FOREVER KNIGHTS: #12 Primal Intent
ALAZAR - Knowing Me

Nightway Castle, Nightway

ALAZAR

Days passed quickly in Nightway now. True to his word Alazareth was relentless. She’d be in the hallway and a night would caress her hair and shoulder with too much familiarity. Or one would push her into a bend in a deep corner and shower her in heated kisses before he pulled his helmet back on and walked away as though nothing had happened.

Taunting her mercilessly. He was everywhere.

Every time she passed a knight now her eyes would skim sideways to peer into the helmet and see if laughing blue eyes returned her gaze.

One particular day she came out of the castle and strode through the bailey. Dual braids sweeping down over both shoulders.

She saw Alazar turn fully to watch her as she walked by. And he was playfully struck in the shoulder by his sparring partner. “What are you looking at?”

“I thought I heard something.”

“The Queen? In a pretty gown. Best set your sights lower, C-”

“Are we practicing or chatting!” Alazar cut him off before he could finish the sentence while she was in hearing range.

“Not even you have a chance to that end.” Another knight laughingly jested.

“Best avert your eyes!” Another crowed.

“Wash up!” Alazar barked. “Enough training for today.”

They all nodded muttering apologies and made way to the stables.

Alazar took his seat and began sharpening his blade when a skirted shadow fell over his sword. “Hello.” He greeted without looking up.

“What a cruel trainer you are.”

“If they are to be strong, they need to train hard.”

“Is the Captain of the Guard so ruthless as to allow you to push them every morn?”

“He thinks its good for them.” Alazar hitched his chin and looked up at her. “Those are quite lovely on you.” He gestured to each of her shoulders.

They look like they could use a good tugging during loving. His thoughts wandered as he eyes them. His thoughts becoming even more untoward as his eyes lingered over the dress molding her curves.

“They are quite nice.” She lifted one drawing his eye back to it. “Jessica brought the style from the Paladines.” She grinned giving it a hard yank that had his eyes widening.

Surely she can’t know.

“I think they’re quite-” She grabbed the other in a tight fist to pull them both twice. “Lovely…”

He groaned. The hell she doesn’t…

She knew exactly the effect it’d have on me. She knows me too well. His armor was getting uncomfortable.

“Riaura!” He warned.

She twirled one around her finger as she looked around absentmindedly. “It seems such a hot day.” She fanned herself. “I feel as though I’m getting all…” She peered down into the inches of exposed cleavage above the neckline of her dress before returning her gaze to him. “Sweaty…”

He growled in his throat and moved to stand up. Written with warning. His expression fierce.

Offering him a half smile and flirtatious wink she sauntered off.

There’ll be no sleeping for several nights. He knew. Watching her hips swing as she walked. Bloody woman!

Two can play at this little game…She wants to up the anty. I’ll raise the damn stakes.

That night he wove through the corridors. Shucking bits of his armor into every corner too black to see into. And there’s certainly plenty of those in this bloody castle.

He expertly creaked her chamber door open. Knowing the precise moment to press on the hinge to keep it from creaking as he had listened to it often enough. Day after day.

Wondering what she’s doing up here. All alone.

He took in the scene of her laying in the bed. Glimpses of her bare feet protruding from the coverlet between curtains on one side of the bed. As he rounded it he saw her head was closer to the side where the lone curtain burned on a side table.

He avoided every creaky board he’d heard from the lower level until he reached her curtained bedside. The pink curtains drawn back to reveal her strung across the pillows. In her usual messy fashion.

She slept at an angle taking up the entire expanse of the bed. Gold hair strung out around her head in every direction. A chunk of it draping over the edge of the bed and halfway to the floor.

Truly, how does she end up so scattered?

She wore a night dress.

Kind of.

Though it likely had initially been a highly appropriate lady’s nightdress it was now twisted in such a way that the sleeves were over her shoulders and resting along her arms and the top had crept down low enough that he was sure if he looked hard enough he’d be able to spot a nipple peering above one. But that wasn’t nearly the most intriguing part.

It was what she had in the hand up by her head next to his hip. A little silver dagger with a simple handle. It was small enough as to possibly be concealed in a lady’s fist.

How has she not cut herself in her haphazard sleep.

She probably has. He realized logically.

There’s probably still a bit of blood on it from the last man that crept into her chamber in the dead of night. He thought ruefully before sobering. Hopefully there hasn’t been any others. The thought disturbed him.

As many assassins as have been after her lately it’s a very likely possibility. For all she knows, one of her knights could turn on her at any time. He grunted at the irony of his own thoughts.

He reached down. And drew a finger over her cheekbone. Using it to shift her hair back from her face. He knelt before her and leaned over the edge of the bed to just barely brush his lips against hers.

“Alazareth.” She whispered against them.

“How do you know?”

She leaned up onto her elbow and he followed to stand, leaning over her. Dropping an arm behind her hip to look at her in the glow of candlelight. Her gaze followed as his torso hovered over her.

“I know your smell, the feel of your presence, the brush of your lips.”

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