As Kelsie settled into a fretful sleep, Leo cast his mind back to the reason why he tolerated Victoria, as irritating a wench as she could be at times.
The day he met her he had died. Felt the life drain from his body. It had been a curious experience, but one he had been prepared for and he had gone to it without fear, expecting to find himself in the lands of his ancestors.
Instead, he had woken up with a witch's heart beating in his chest and Victoria herself being curt and somewhat cruel, as was her way when she was displeased.
He still remembered precisely how it had been to open his eyes and look into hers that first time, her emerald gaze so enchanting that for a moment he was certain he had ascended to some higher realm and was looking into the eyes of an angelic creature.
Then he had felt the dirt at his back, smelled the familiar scent of blood soaked ground and his perception had switched immediately. He had known about witches, of course, and had been taught to hate them with such disgust that finding his shattered heart beating at her whim had almost been enough to make him cut it from his breast then and there, but he had been too much of a coward to stand by his convictions of hatred. He had left the witch – who he now saw had been a young woman just as vulnerable and lost as himself, and had gone as far and as fast as he could in the opposite direction. Never had he spoken of what had taken place in the forest. He had disappeared entirely from his lands, taking himself to the southernmost kingdom of Uhr where for seven long years he learned an assassin's trade.
Leo had considered himself tainted, broken, a shadow of what a man should be. Fortunately for him, the guild's instructors had no time for that brand of self-pity. They were merciless, taking every shred of hatred he had for himself and working it out on his body until by some miracle they eventually beat it out of him.
It had taken seven years to accept that he had been given a gift like no other. Seven years to realize that he had left a young woman to perish in the deep woods, not because she was evil, but because he was weak.
An assassin's trade was a bloody but profitable one. And, surprisingly, an ethical one too. The guild required more than mere money to carry out their actions. They required meaning, sense, a greater good to be achieved. None fell to Leo's blade who did not deserve it – or so he had justified it to himself. There was evil in the world, of that he had no doubt. Not of the witchcraft kind, but of the essential base greed and sadism kind. His blade had become a cleansing force and his reputation soon began to grow.
He often thought about the witch who had given him new life, and wished that he had been better to her. He had left her without so much as a curt thank you, and to fate unknown. She claimed that his heart would beat as long as hers did, so he knew she had survived, but that did not mean that she had survived well. The area he had left her in was particularly lawless and brutal, and any one of a number of fates could have befallen her. He wished he could have just one more minute with her to thank her for what she had done. His path before meeting her had been one of misery, and now he found himself with a purpose and a skill beyond compare.
One day, Leo was out in the city of Sellington, the seat of the Assassin's Guild. He could not recall why precisely he had decided to go out for a walk. He knew only that he was restless, and his legs seemed to carry him of their own accord through the busy streets. He felt as though he was looking for something, though he did not know quite what.
Somewhere near the fish markets, the sound of an altercation nearby drew his interest. In a little alley well off the main street, a woman was being detained by a group of the Sellington guard. There were quite a number of them clustered about her, shouting and making a great deal of noise, blades drawn.
Leo's chivalrous instinct drew him toward the gathering. He could see a flash of pale gold hair and then a uniquely female exclamation.
“Leave me be, you fools!”
The guards parted for a moment. Leo looked between their blades and locked eyes with the woman.
It was her.
He had run across seven kingdoms to evade her. And now he found himself face to face with her once more, a blade to her neck just as it had been the first time they'd met.
“Slice the witch's throat,” the guard captain growled. “We have no time to burn her as she should be burned.”
Leo stepped forward. His dark leather typically made him blend with the shadows, so revealing himself was in itself an act of force. The guards started back, surprised by the sudden apparition. Leo knew how he appeared, a tall man with dark hair falling to his shoulders, eyes like steel focused on them with an expression that heralded death.
“Let her be,” he said. “She is no witch.”
“She turned our Henry into a snake,” the captain stated. “She must die.”
On the verge of yet another almost certain death, the woman had the same frosty calm and charm he remembered from the forest. Her eyes glittered with something he had at first mistaken for malevolence, but which he suddenly understood was a deep grief for all she had suffered. To a casual gaze, she seemed haughty and aloof, but she was neither. She was miserable and deeply afraid.
“He tried to force his snake upon me,” she said. “I thought it appropriate.”
“She is no witch,” Leo repeated. “She is a sorceress. And she is mine. I apologize for her actions, gentlemen. Here is some coin to atone for your loss.”
He produced a heavy pouch of coin and tossed it to the captain. The man opened it, saw the unmistakeable flash of gold and began to stammer.
“Er.. well... Henry was always hasty with... we can overlook... come on lads.”
Leo reached out and grabbed the woman by her arm as the guards began to squabble over their shares of the pouch.
“Come, Matilda,” he said. “We must away from here. You are needed to charm a set of fish scales.”
She gave him a curious look, but followed in his wake, at least at first. A few blocks away, she stopped and wrenched her arm from his grasp.
“My name is Victoria,” she said in that uniquely elegant voice. “And you're late.”
Leo stared at her. “What do you mean, late? I just saved you.”
“You had no choice but to save me,” she said with no small amount of arrogance. “Your heart beats with mine, remember?”
“That makes no sense, witch. I have not seen you in years, and you say I was... what... due to save you? I did not even know you were in Sellington.”
“You did not need to know,” she said with a little roll of her eyes. “Dull boy, I would have explained it years ago had you stayed to listen. You will come to me when I am in danger and you will ensure that I remain alive. In doing so, you preserve yourself. It is not something you need think about, or even understand...mpphhh!”
She was cut off in her diatribe by Leo's large hand clapped over her mouth.
“Silence,” Leo growled. “We are not yet safe.”
He released his hand and she lowered her tone to something less strident.
“We are not?”
“The gold I paid with is painted silver. I, er, confiscated it from a money lender. They will discover the deception soon enough.”
“So you are a charlatan as well as tardy. Figures.”
He had been in her company only a matter of minutes and already he could not tolerate her attitude. Leo did not waste further breath on her, instead he simply caught her rump with a hard slap of his palm. It made a very satisfying sound, and the feeling of her generous and shapely rear beneath his hand was equally gratifying.
A look of pure shock crossed her face, so incongruous he would have laughed were he not so angry at her.
“Who I am does not matter,” he said. “You did not care who I was before you charmed me.”
“I do apologize for saving your life. I see how much more convenient it would have been to let you rot.” She rubbed her rear while glaring at him with narrowed eyes.
“Now you listen to me,” Leo said, drawing himself up to his full height. This Victoria was tall for a woman, but he was taller. “I'm not going to tolerate your attitude, witch, so you can stow your vicious lip. You and I are going to talk.”
“Talk?” She cocked her head to the side and looked at him with wicked eyes. “Is that what you want to do to me, Falkroy?”
“You know my name,” he said flatly, hardly surprised.
“I have come to know a great many things about you.”
Leo tapped his foot and regarded her with a raised brow. “You've been following me, haven't you, witch.”
“Only the last year or so, since you began working, shall we say, professionally,” she said with an unapologetic smile in which pure mischief and glee danced. “For a master assassin, you can be quite dim at times.”
“If you have interfered...”
“Only to keep you alive,” she said with a broader smirk. “But perhaps I should not admit that. I know how you loathe being kept alive.”
Leo stared at her, stunned yet again. A year this creature had been in the shadows, keeping her distance as his thoughts wandered repeatedly to her. Perhaps that was why. Perhaps he had caught a glimpse or two that did not consciously register yet put her in his mind. Or perhaps some other magic was at work. He did not know. All he knew was that he had seven years of regret to put right – and he intended to do so.
He took her by the hand and led her through the city streets, back to the guild house. Not a word was spoken between them as he led her up the stairs to the apartment that had been awarded to him upon his graduation. She followed him quietly as a lamb, and then waited mutely as he shut the door and fastened it from the inside to ensure that they were not disturbed. He had so much time to make up for.
Looking into her eyes, he did not know whether he loved her or not, but he knew that she had taken his heart in every sense. This was a brave, strong woman who was accustomed to hatred and who bore it beautifully – but who deserved so much better.
His mouth descended on hers, his hands cupping her face gently as he kissed her thoroughly. He felt her tongue slide against his, the ferocity of her desire no less than his own. They were perfectly matched in will and so much more besides. His hands roamed her gorgeous body, cupping her curves, finding the soft swell of her breast beneath her dress.
Her gown soon fell to the floor and his clothing was shed equally eagerly, she placing hot kisses and nipped bites across his chest as he found her neck and put his teeth to it in a light graze. From the beginning they had growled and snarled at one another like wild animals. Now their antagonism was finding proper release in physical form, his cock hardening against the soft swell of her belly as his hand found her rear and painted it with hard slaps that made her moan and laugh with a masochistic glee.
He threw her upon the bed and covered her body with his own, her pale thighs spreading willingly. His cock was hard, his blood pounding hot in his ears. He needed to claim this woman as she had claimed him. He needed to take her so thoroughly she would never doubt that she was owned as much as he was.
Her warm, wet slit spread for his cock as he thrust inside her, burying himself all the way in one strong stroke that bought a cry of delight from her lips. Joined with her by hip and heart, he lost himself in her willing embrace and found that she was every bit as vigorous a lover as he.
They rutted and fucked and coupled until they could not do anything but lie in the sweat soaked sheets, weak limbed and dehydrated. And then they spared a word or two for one another.
“I promised myself that if we ever met, I would not quarrel with you again. I intended to offer you my apologies,” Leo said, letting a silken strand of her hair drift between his fingers.
“Well, you certainly made quite an apology,” Victoria smiled, beautifully flushed in the aftermath of their lovemaking.
“I abandoned you in those woods,” he said. “I am sorry for that.”
“You were of some use before you fled,” she smirked. “And I learned a lesson of sorts. I bear you no ill will. You were but a boy.”
“And you were but a girl,” Leo said. “If I were to find myself in that forest again...”
“I would not have to save your life, for your life would not need saving. You have become deadly, Falkroy. You wield your blade like the wind. You were fast back then, but now... time itself seems to still for your thrusts and parries. There is something almost... magic about the way you move. I was fortunate that you were there.” She cast her eyes to his. “Why were you there?”
“Would you believe I did not intend to survive that encounter,” he admitted. “I was but twenty years of age and the woman I believed I loved had fallen pregnant to another man. I thought my sword sung in service of nothing at all. So I went into the wilds, intending on... I don't know, perhaps living the rest of my days as a hermit.”
Her laughter drew a sharp glance from him.
“I am sorry, Falkroy,” she apologized, putting her hand on his chest in a light touch. “I do not intend to jest at your pain, but I cannot imagine you so maudlin as to consider a life as a hermit. You are of a warrior's blood through and through.”
“And you are a wi...”
She put her finger to his lips. “Sorceress,” she said. “I am a sorceress. A tired one. Close your eyes, Falkroy. We have said enough for one night.”
He had fallen asleep then, with her languid form wrapped in his arms. When he woke in the morning, she was gone. Some new mischief had taken her from his side. He had not known it then, but it would be another seven years before they would meet again.
For a time Leo looked for her, but Victoria knew how to disappear quite thoroughly and as the events of his own life began to overcome him, fame, riches, power all bringing willing wenches to his bed, she became the standard against which all other women were measured – and against which all others fell short.