LotS/Camelot Fic: Birthright - Part I (8/10)
Title: Birthright - Part I (LotS/Camelot Crossover) 8/10
Author: TheDawn
Pairing: Cara/Morgan, Berdine/Raina, Cara/Darken, referenced Cara/Dahlia
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Dahlia may need some snuggles.
Word Count: 2696
Disclaimer: Neither Legend of the Seeker or Camelot are mine - but you'll never convince me that this didn't happen.
Summary: Morgan Pendragon's life was turned upside down when her mother was killed to make room for her father's new wife. When a mysterious Sister arrives from across the sea in D'Hara, she enters a world she never could have imagined - and was always meant to know.
Author's Notes: This would be where I take extreme liberties with some aspects of book canon, mostly having to do with the bond. I'm twisting it to suit my own devious purposes:P See Chapter One for full Author's Notes.
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Birthright - Part I (8/10)
Much later, when all four women were well sated, Morgan lounged naked on her cot, watching the others help each other back into their leathers. Now that the haze of lust was cleared, she was better able to consider everything Berdine had told her.
“Mistress Berdine,” Morgan said, a pleased smile tugging at her lips when the woman in question turned to her immediately, ready for orders. “Tell me more about this bond. How is it that I came to possess it?”
Berdine smiled, eager to share what she knew. “From what I've read, the bond is held by only one Rahl at a time - ordinarily, the presiding Lord Rahl. I'm not certain, but I believe that when Panis was killed, the bond passed to the next eldest living Rahl - your mother - rather than down the line of succession.”
“And then when my mother died, it passed to me?” Morgan pondered; something was wrong with that.
“Not quite,” Berdine said, recognizing Morgan's confusion. “It would have then passed to Lo- Darken Rahl, he being the next eldest of the bloodline. I can only assume that at some point he must have died and been brought back with the Breath of Life - long enough for the bond to pass to you?”
“You don't sound too sure of that,” Morgan observed.
Berdine sighed, sinking down to sit in the chair by the desk. “It doesn't quite fit. I don't recall ever feeling the bond with Darken Rahl. So either he died shortly after your mother did, and was brought back, or there's a piece of the puzzle missing.”
Raina smiled fondly at Berdine's obvious frustration - she knew how much Berdine hated to admit that she didn't know something. Tying off the laces of Cara's neck-guard, she stepped over to her lover, resting a hand affectionately on her shoulder. Berdine tilted her head toward the touch, and Raina's hand slid up to stroke at the back of her neck.
“So the bond is held by the eldest living Rahl,” Morgan mused as she shifted to make room for Cara on the small bed. “Why would it not have returned to my cousin when he was revived?”
“That I can answer,” Berdine said with a confident smirk. “The passing of the bond is triggered by death - once it left Darken, it couldn't return to him unless you died. And even then, I'm not certain it would work that way. Everything I've read of the bond implies that it only passes one way - once you lose it, you can never get it back.”
“That would be why Mistress Sibyl never allowed me to be killed in training,” Morgan said, realization dawning on her.
“I always wondered if the rumors were true,” Cara said, trailing gloved fingers idly over the bare skin of Morgan's abdomen. “That you've never had the Breath of Life. It's too bad about the bond - I think you'd enjoy the experience.”
“Sibyl knows who I am,” Morgan continued, remembering all of the details of her training that had never quite seemed to fit. “She told me I was destined to rule, but she never said that it would be Britain. It makes complete sense! She was grooming me to rule D'Hara.”
“Lady Rahl,” Raina said nervously, glancing toward the open doorway. “You may want to be careful with this information. Darken Rahl may not have the bond, but he has the loyalty of D'Hara - and its armies.”
“Raina's right, Mistress,” Berdine offered. “The bond is stronger in Mord-Sith because we have been trained with the agiel - we've quite literally had our loyalty beaten into us - but it is still possible for us to resist it, at least for a time. For the average D'Haran, the bond is nothing more than a vague compulsion - easy enough to ignore, particularly if the subject doesn't know or recognize who the presiding Lord - or Lady - Rahl is.”
Morgan frowned, contemplating her options. “It seems as though my cousin will yet need to be kept in the dark about my true identity,” she mused unhappily.
“'It is a great thing to know the season for speech and the season for silence,'” Berdine quoted.
“Seneca,” Morgan said, impressed.
Berdine cocked her head, a bright smile spreading over her lips. “You know it?”
“Sibyl taught me much more than mere obedience. Seneca also said that 'No one can wear a mask for very long',” Morgan said, before sighing in resignation. “You do have a point, however. I shall have to remain silent, at least long enough to come up with a sound strategy.”
Cara pressed herself against Morgan's side, her tongue flicking out to trace Morgan's earlobe. Cara smiled as her mistress shivered at the touch. “At least we know who you are.”
-----
“I for one will be more than happy to serve you above all others.”
Dahlia froze as she neared the archway. Cara's words cut deep; she still remembered nights spent curled into the curve of Cara's shoulder, Cara's soft voice assuring Dahlia that she was the most important person in the world to her, apart from Lord Rahl. Now it would seem that Cara had found someone to replace even him. Tears pricked at Dahlia's eyes, and she swiped at them angrily; it was pointless to dwell on childish promises. All that mattered now was making sure Morgan got what was coming to her. If Dahlia could somehow emerge from it with Cara back in her arms, all the better, but she was no naive child, clinging to foolish hopes.
The room fell silent as Dahlia entered. The smile melted off of Cara's lips as she turned to look in Dahlia's direction. Her eyes grew cold, distant; nothing like the warmth and affection that Dahlia had taken for granted.
“Can I help you, Dahlia?” Morgan asked curtly; she was well aware of how Dahlia felt about her, no matter how artfully Dahlia pretended at submission.
Dahlia cleared her throat, raising her chin and setting her jaw. “I was on my way to devotions,” she explained. “You must not have heard the bell. At least, I assume you're attending?”
“I wasn't aware that they were optional,” Morgan said with a derisive smirk. “Berdine, Raina, you had best go and give Lord Rahl his due.”
The lovers shared a knowing glance before bowing their heads to Morgan. Dahlia stiffened as they brushed past her to exit the room.
“You may as well join them, Dahlia,” Morgan said, reaching inside for the power she'd come to know so well. “Mistress Cara and I will be along after she has helped me to dress.”
Dahlia scowled, but the tug of magic in her chest prevented her from arguing. “Yes, Mistress,” she said through her teeth. Anger bubbled up in her chest as she turned around to follow the other two Mord-Sith to the devotions hall.
Morgan watched her go with a wary eye. “She's going to cause trouble.”
Cara smirked, shifting up to straddle Morgan's hips. “She can try,” Cara purred, rocking her hips into the woman beneath her.
Morgan smiled, pleased and somewhat touched by Cara's staunch loyalty. Reaching up, she cupped the back of Cara's head, pulling her down into an ardent kiss.
“What about devotions?” Cara murmured against Morgan's lips.
“Considering I am the rightful target of them,” Morgan began, arching her hips against Cara's, “I think we can stand to be a little late.”
*****
The devotions had already begun by the time Morgan sauntered into the hall, with Cara close behind. Darken Rahl watched with narrowed eyes as they made their way through the rows of Mord-Sith to take their usual places.
It took a repetition or two for him to realize that while Morgan had knelt with her sisters, she wasn't actually saying the words. Next to her, Cara was repeating the devotions as obediently as ever, but her head was tilted ever-so-slightly toward Morgan. If he didn't know better, he'd almost think Cara was saying the devotions to her fellow Mord-Sith, rather than to him. This lapse in loyalty would have to be rectified - and perhaps he could find out more about Morgan by spending some...quality time with her favored pet.
“Rise,” Rahl instructed when the hour was up, his eyes immediately locking with Cara's as she raised her head. There was a familiar challenge in her steady gaze, but something about it seemed different to him; before, there had always been an underlying respect in her defiance. Now, it seemed to be shifting into something more like disdain.
That was, of course, because Cara knew that he was not the true Lord Rahl. Without his title, he was nothing more than a man, as far beneath her as the pet she had waiting for her in the dungeons. Her lips curved up enigmatically as she returned his gaze, almost daring him to guess at the truth. She was wholly unsurprised when he summoned her to him as the rest of the Mord-Sith began to file out of the hall.
“Mistress Cara,” he said, leering. “It has been too long since I have experienced your...particular talents. I should like to have some pleasant memories to take with me when I return to the People's Palace tomorrow.”
Cara's eyes flicked to one of the arched doorways, where Morgan was watching with a dangerous glint in her eyes. She felt a tug in her chest, sharp enough to hurt; Morgan clearly did not approve of Darken's intentions. Cara smirked. She didn't need to be commanded to deny his request; he no longer held any power over her, and as such she owed him nothing - least of all the pleasure of her skills.
“My lord,” Cara said, artfully composing her features to suggest a hesitance that she certainly didn't feel. “You know that I am eager to serve you in any way you see fit.”
“Then why does it sound like you are about to refuse me?” Darken asked, his hands clenching unconsciously into fists.
“I am in the middle of breaking a particularly difficult man,” Cara explained smoothly. “I suspect he has knowledge of the Seeker's whereabouts. I've left him alone in the chains for three days now, and he is due for more...hands-on attention.”
“Splendid,” Darken said, clapping his hands together almost happily. “I'll join you in the dungeons, then; I do love to watch you work.”
“Lord Rahl,” Cara said carefully, “I'm sure you can appreciate the delicate nature of the situation. Reliance is but one small step away from obedience, as you well know. Your presence would call my authority over him into question.”
Rahl's eyes darkened in warning. “My own authority is higher than that of anyone else in all of D'Hara,” he said coldly, his gaze flicking briefly to Morgan. “I trust you remember that?”
“Of course, my lord,” Cara said smoothly. “It's only that this man was not strong of mind to begin with; he's teetering on the edge of insanity as we speak. The training required to shift his loyalties to you might be enough to push him over. Ordinarily, I would enjoy testing just how far he could be pushed - but I would not want to risk losing such crucial information to madness. The Seeker must be stopped.”
Darken was silent for a long moment, sliding an index finger over his lips as he contemplated Cara's words. It certainly seemed to make sense; the Seeker was the only thing standing between him and the final box of Orden, and he was well aware of Cara's preferred training methods - there was no reason to think that what she told him was anything but the truth. Still, there was something about the way she looked at Morgan that made him uneasy; he had hoped to collect a few more pieces of the puzzle tonight. And Cara had never refused his attentions before; that was suspicious in its own right.
A slow, seductive smile curved over Cara's lips; as though she could hear his thoughts, she swayed closer to him, sliding a gloved finger down his chest. “My lord,” she purred, tilting her head toward his ever-so-slightly. “You know that I would like nothing more than to join you in your bed. If you'd prefer, I can leave him until morning. One more night without food or water shouldn't make that much of a difference; and if he goes mad, or dies, I'm sure you will defeat the Seeker even without the knowledge he may possess.”
Her hand slid lower, slipping between the split in his robes to hook into his belt, and for a moment he looked sorely tempted; panic seized Cara's chest as his expression clouded with lust. This was a dangerous game she was playing; Morgan would not be pleased if Darken Rahl succeeded at getting Cara into his bed - she didn't need the insistent tug of the bond to tell her that. Perhaps if she got him alone, she might be able to kill him - it would be messy, but it would leave Morgan with an unrivaled claim to the throne.
“No, you're right,” Darken said finally, disappointment and frustration evident in his tone. His lips pulled into a tight line as he closed his hand around her wrist and tugged it away from his belt. “This information is more important. I shall have to enjoy the pleasure of your company at a later time.”
Cara pouted skillfully, feigning disappointment to cover up her relief. Bowing her head, she prepared to take her leave.
“Mistress Cara.” Darken's hand was still tight around her wrist, though, and he tugged her to him, his other hand gripping her chin. Swiftly, he lowered his lips to hers, claiming her mouth in a rough kiss.
She responded eagerly, as she knew he'd expect her to; as his tongue plundered the depths of her mouth, her leathered hands slid up his chest, clutching at his collar to pull him in closer. His beard was rough against her chin, his mouth hard and demanding - taking his pleasure, rather than sharing it the way that Morgan did - but Cara moaned into his mouth nonetheless. She saw this for what it was: a public display of his own imagined dominance. She would indulge him, if it meant she would be spared having to share his bed. Morgan's eyes still searing into her back were reminder enough that her Lady Rahl's wrath was not something she wanted to incur.
He pulled away finally with a hard bite at her bottom lip, falling just short of drawing blood. His lips curved into a satisfied smile as he glanced over to see Morgan's eyes smoldering with jealous rage. “You are dismissed,” he said, releasing Cara's wrist before turning to Dahlia, who was lingering in the archway in another corner of the room. “Mistress Dahlia, it appears I will require your services once again.”
Dahlia straightened, barely containing the smug smile that tugged at her lips. Lord Rahl wasn't the only one enjoying Morgan's jealousy. “Of course, my lord.”
Cara watched them exit the room, pleased with her own performance. Her satisfaction dropped away, however, when she turned to meet Morgan's infuriated gaze.
Chapter Nine
Author: TheDawn
Pairing: Cara/Morgan, Berdine/Raina, Cara/Darken, referenced Cara/Dahlia
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Dahlia may need some snuggles.
Word Count: 2696
Disclaimer: Neither Legend of the Seeker or Camelot are mine - but you'll never convince me that this didn't happen.
Summary: Morgan Pendragon's life was turned upside down when her mother was killed to make room for her father's new wife. When a mysterious Sister arrives from across the sea in D'Hara, she enters a world she never could have imagined - and was always meant to know.
Author's Notes: This would be where I take extreme liberties with some aspects of book canon, mostly having to do with the bond. I'm twisting it to suit my own devious purposes:P See Chapter One for full Author's Notes.
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Birthright - Part I (8/10)
Much later, when all four women were well sated, Morgan lounged naked on her cot, watching the others help each other back into their leathers. Now that the haze of lust was cleared, she was better able to consider everything Berdine had told her.
“Mistress Berdine,” Morgan said, a pleased smile tugging at her lips when the woman in question turned to her immediately, ready for orders. “Tell me more about this bond. How is it that I came to possess it?”
Berdine smiled, eager to share what she knew. “From what I've read, the bond is held by only one Rahl at a time - ordinarily, the presiding Lord Rahl. I'm not certain, but I believe that when Panis was killed, the bond passed to the next eldest living Rahl - your mother - rather than down the line of succession.”
“And then when my mother died, it passed to me?” Morgan pondered; something was wrong with that.
“Not quite,” Berdine said, recognizing Morgan's confusion. “It would have then passed to Lo- Darken Rahl, he being the next eldest of the bloodline. I can only assume that at some point he must have died and been brought back with the Breath of Life - long enough for the bond to pass to you?”
“You don't sound too sure of that,” Morgan observed.
Berdine sighed, sinking down to sit in the chair by the desk. “It doesn't quite fit. I don't recall ever feeling the bond with Darken Rahl. So either he died shortly after your mother did, and was brought back, or there's a piece of the puzzle missing.”
Raina smiled fondly at Berdine's obvious frustration - she knew how much Berdine hated to admit that she didn't know something. Tying off the laces of Cara's neck-guard, she stepped over to her lover, resting a hand affectionately on her shoulder. Berdine tilted her head toward the touch, and Raina's hand slid up to stroke at the back of her neck.
“So the bond is held by the eldest living Rahl,” Morgan mused as she shifted to make room for Cara on the small bed. “Why would it not have returned to my cousin when he was revived?”
“That I can answer,” Berdine said with a confident smirk. “The passing of the bond is triggered by death - once it left Darken, it couldn't return to him unless you died. And even then, I'm not certain it would work that way. Everything I've read of the bond implies that it only passes one way - once you lose it, you can never get it back.”
“That would be why Mistress Sibyl never allowed me to be killed in training,” Morgan said, realization dawning on her.
“I always wondered if the rumors were true,” Cara said, trailing gloved fingers idly over the bare skin of Morgan's abdomen. “That you've never had the Breath of Life. It's too bad about the bond - I think you'd enjoy the experience.”
“Sibyl knows who I am,” Morgan continued, remembering all of the details of her training that had never quite seemed to fit. “She told me I was destined to rule, but she never said that it would be Britain. It makes complete sense! She was grooming me to rule D'Hara.”
“Lady Rahl,” Raina said nervously, glancing toward the open doorway. “You may want to be careful with this information. Darken Rahl may not have the bond, but he has the loyalty of D'Hara - and its armies.”
“Raina's right, Mistress,” Berdine offered. “The bond is stronger in Mord-Sith because we have been trained with the agiel - we've quite literally had our loyalty beaten into us - but it is still possible for us to resist it, at least for a time. For the average D'Haran, the bond is nothing more than a vague compulsion - easy enough to ignore, particularly if the subject doesn't know or recognize who the presiding Lord - or Lady - Rahl is.”
Morgan frowned, contemplating her options. “It seems as though my cousin will yet need to be kept in the dark about my true identity,” she mused unhappily.
“'It is a great thing to know the season for speech and the season for silence,'” Berdine quoted.
“Seneca,” Morgan said, impressed.
Berdine cocked her head, a bright smile spreading over her lips. “You know it?”
“Sibyl taught me much more than mere obedience. Seneca also said that 'No one can wear a mask for very long',” Morgan said, before sighing in resignation. “You do have a point, however. I shall have to remain silent, at least long enough to come up with a sound strategy.”
Cara pressed herself against Morgan's side, her tongue flicking out to trace Morgan's earlobe. Cara smiled as her mistress shivered at the touch. “At least we know who you are.”
-----
“I for one will be more than happy to serve you above all others.”
Dahlia froze as she neared the archway. Cara's words cut deep; she still remembered nights spent curled into the curve of Cara's shoulder, Cara's soft voice assuring Dahlia that she was the most important person in the world to her, apart from Lord Rahl. Now it would seem that Cara had found someone to replace even him. Tears pricked at Dahlia's eyes, and she swiped at them angrily; it was pointless to dwell on childish promises. All that mattered now was making sure Morgan got what was coming to her. If Dahlia could somehow emerge from it with Cara back in her arms, all the better, but she was no naive child, clinging to foolish hopes.
The room fell silent as Dahlia entered. The smile melted off of Cara's lips as she turned to look in Dahlia's direction. Her eyes grew cold, distant; nothing like the warmth and affection that Dahlia had taken for granted.
“Can I help you, Dahlia?” Morgan asked curtly; she was well aware of how Dahlia felt about her, no matter how artfully Dahlia pretended at submission.
Dahlia cleared her throat, raising her chin and setting her jaw. “I was on my way to devotions,” she explained. “You must not have heard the bell. At least, I assume you're attending?”
“I wasn't aware that they were optional,” Morgan said with a derisive smirk. “Berdine, Raina, you had best go and give Lord Rahl his due.”
The lovers shared a knowing glance before bowing their heads to Morgan. Dahlia stiffened as they brushed past her to exit the room.
“You may as well join them, Dahlia,” Morgan said, reaching inside for the power she'd come to know so well. “Mistress Cara and I will be along after she has helped me to dress.”
Dahlia scowled, but the tug of magic in her chest prevented her from arguing. “Yes, Mistress,” she said through her teeth. Anger bubbled up in her chest as she turned around to follow the other two Mord-Sith to the devotions hall.
Morgan watched her go with a wary eye. “She's going to cause trouble.”
Cara smirked, shifting up to straddle Morgan's hips. “She can try,” Cara purred, rocking her hips into the woman beneath her.
Morgan smiled, pleased and somewhat touched by Cara's staunch loyalty. Reaching up, she cupped the back of Cara's head, pulling her down into an ardent kiss.
“What about devotions?” Cara murmured against Morgan's lips.
“Considering I am the rightful target of them,” Morgan began, arching her hips against Cara's, “I think we can stand to be a little late.”
*****
The devotions had already begun by the time Morgan sauntered into the hall, with Cara close behind. Darken Rahl watched with narrowed eyes as they made their way through the rows of Mord-Sith to take their usual places.
It took a repetition or two for him to realize that while Morgan had knelt with her sisters, she wasn't actually saying the words. Next to her, Cara was repeating the devotions as obediently as ever, but her head was tilted ever-so-slightly toward Morgan. If he didn't know better, he'd almost think Cara was saying the devotions to her fellow Mord-Sith, rather than to him. This lapse in loyalty would have to be rectified - and perhaps he could find out more about Morgan by spending some...quality time with her favored pet.
“Rise,” Rahl instructed when the hour was up, his eyes immediately locking with Cara's as she raised her head. There was a familiar challenge in her steady gaze, but something about it seemed different to him; before, there had always been an underlying respect in her defiance. Now, it seemed to be shifting into something more like disdain.
That was, of course, because Cara knew that he was not the true Lord Rahl. Without his title, he was nothing more than a man, as far beneath her as the pet she had waiting for her in the dungeons. Her lips curved up enigmatically as she returned his gaze, almost daring him to guess at the truth. She was wholly unsurprised when he summoned her to him as the rest of the Mord-Sith began to file out of the hall.
“Mistress Cara,” he said, leering. “It has been too long since I have experienced your...particular talents. I should like to have some pleasant memories to take with me when I return to the People's Palace tomorrow.”
Cara's eyes flicked to one of the arched doorways, where Morgan was watching with a dangerous glint in her eyes. She felt a tug in her chest, sharp enough to hurt; Morgan clearly did not approve of Darken's intentions. Cara smirked. She didn't need to be commanded to deny his request; he no longer held any power over her, and as such she owed him nothing - least of all the pleasure of her skills.
“My lord,” Cara said, artfully composing her features to suggest a hesitance that she certainly didn't feel. “You know that I am eager to serve you in any way you see fit.”
“Then why does it sound like you are about to refuse me?” Darken asked, his hands clenching unconsciously into fists.
“I am in the middle of breaking a particularly difficult man,” Cara explained smoothly. “I suspect he has knowledge of the Seeker's whereabouts. I've left him alone in the chains for three days now, and he is due for more...hands-on attention.”
“Splendid,” Darken said, clapping his hands together almost happily. “I'll join you in the dungeons, then; I do love to watch you work.”
“Lord Rahl,” Cara said carefully, “I'm sure you can appreciate the delicate nature of the situation. Reliance is but one small step away from obedience, as you well know. Your presence would call my authority over him into question.”
Rahl's eyes darkened in warning. “My own authority is higher than that of anyone else in all of D'Hara,” he said coldly, his gaze flicking briefly to Morgan. “I trust you remember that?”
“Of course, my lord,” Cara said smoothly. “It's only that this man was not strong of mind to begin with; he's teetering on the edge of insanity as we speak. The training required to shift his loyalties to you might be enough to push him over. Ordinarily, I would enjoy testing just how far he could be pushed - but I would not want to risk losing such crucial information to madness. The Seeker must be stopped.”
Darken was silent for a long moment, sliding an index finger over his lips as he contemplated Cara's words. It certainly seemed to make sense; the Seeker was the only thing standing between him and the final box of Orden, and he was well aware of Cara's preferred training methods - there was no reason to think that what she told him was anything but the truth. Still, there was something about the way she looked at Morgan that made him uneasy; he had hoped to collect a few more pieces of the puzzle tonight. And Cara had never refused his attentions before; that was suspicious in its own right.
A slow, seductive smile curved over Cara's lips; as though she could hear his thoughts, she swayed closer to him, sliding a gloved finger down his chest. “My lord,” she purred, tilting her head toward his ever-so-slightly. “You know that I would like nothing more than to join you in your bed. If you'd prefer, I can leave him until morning. One more night without food or water shouldn't make that much of a difference; and if he goes mad, or dies, I'm sure you will defeat the Seeker even without the knowledge he may possess.”
Her hand slid lower, slipping between the split in his robes to hook into his belt, and for a moment he looked sorely tempted; panic seized Cara's chest as his expression clouded with lust. This was a dangerous game she was playing; Morgan would not be pleased if Darken Rahl succeeded at getting Cara into his bed - she didn't need the insistent tug of the bond to tell her that. Perhaps if she got him alone, she might be able to kill him - it would be messy, but it would leave Morgan with an unrivaled claim to the throne.
“No, you're right,” Darken said finally, disappointment and frustration evident in his tone. His lips pulled into a tight line as he closed his hand around her wrist and tugged it away from his belt. “This information is more important. I shall have to enjoy the pleasure of your company at a later time.”
Cara pouted skillfully, feigning disappointment to cover up her relief. Bowing her head, she prepared to take her leave.
“Mistress Cara.” Darken's hand was still tight around her wrist, though, and he tugged her to him, his other hand gripping her chin. Swiftly, he lowered his lips to hers, claiming her mouth in a rough kiss.
She responded eagerly, as she knew he'd expect her to; as his tongue plundered the depths of her mouth, her leathered hands slid up his chest, clutching at his collar to pull him in closer. His beard was rough against her chin, his mouth hard and demanding - taking his pleasure, rather than sharing it the way that Morgan did - but Cara moaned into his mouth nonetheless. She saw this for what it was: a public display of his own imagined dominance. She would indulge him, if it meant she would be spared having to share his bed. Morgan's eyes still searing into her back were reminder enough that her Lady Rahl's wrath was not something she wanted to incur.
He pulled away finally with a hard bite at her bottom lip, falling just short of drawing blood. His lips curved into a satisfied smile as he glanced over to see Morgan's eyes smoldering with jealous rage. “You are dismissed,” he said, releasing Cara's wrist before turning to Dahlia, who was lingering in the archway in another corner of the room. “Mistress Dahlia, it appears I will require your services once again.”
Dahlia straightened, barely containing the smug smile that tugged at her lips. Lord Rahl wasn't the only one enjoying Morgan's jealousy. “Of course, my lord.”
Cara watched them exit the room, pleased with her own performance. Her satisfaction dropped away, however, when she turned to meet Morgan's infuriated gaze.
Chapter Nine