Solara, faerie princess of D'Naath, is betrothed to a king she's never met. Visiting her sister Noele in Winterland, Solara's departure to the southern kingdom is imminent. But after a misunderstanding she must remain in Winterland with Roarke, the elvin warrior who stirs her blood like no other could. Bound to another, she knows her love for Roarke can never be. But her heart won't listen.
Roarke's sense of duty and honor rules his life. Though his very soul burns for Solara, she is fated to marry a king and will never be his. He tries to maintain his distance from the scarlet-haired faerie, but their passion cannot be denied.
Though forbidden, their destiny is inevitable, searing them with a fiery love that cannot be extinguished.
There are no customer reviews available at this time. Would you like to write a review?
November 13, 2009
Number of Print Pages*
Adobe DRM EPUB
* Number of eBook pages may differ. Click here for more information.
Excerpt from Fiery Fate by Jaci Burton
Solara sighed and once again fixed her gaze on Roarke's naked back, imagining how his muscles would ripple under her touch, how he would bring her body to life with his strong, powerful hands. The same visions that had haunted every sleepless night since the last time she had seen him. No matter how she tried to fight the demon desire that lived inside her, one look at him and she was reminded of everything she had tried to forget.
How was she to marry one man when she clearly felt something for another?
But she had not come to Winterland to moon over a man she desired and could not have. She was here to visit her sister, Noele, before she made the long journey to Greenbriar.
She pondered the combatants, with every passing second more and more convinced that she would be unable to go through with a marriage to a man she did not love.
Noele had been lucky. She had been destined as Garick of Winterland's bride, and their match had ended up one of love. The passion between her sister and Garick was palpable to anyone who stood near them.
'Twas what she wished for herself. If that was selfish, so be it. Her heart ached for another. She could never be the bride of a man as cold and unfeeling as Braedon of Greenbriar was said to be.
Picking at a speck on her blue shift, she concentrated on her hands, willing the melancholy that had settled over her to vanish like a butterfly on a gusty wind. Yet it had remained for days now and she could not force it away.
Her fate was sealed, her destiny not of her own choosing. What could she do but see it through?
No. There had to be another way. She could not do this!
"What ails the beautiful faerie today?"
Glancing up, she squinted in the blinding sunlight. It did not matter that her sight was restricted. Roarke's voice entered her very soul.
"Nothing ails me." How had he snuck up on her when she'd only averted her eyes for the briefest of moments? Had she known the men had ended their skirmish, she would have disappeared before Roarke had the chance to look up at the stairs and see her sitting there.
Now that he stood so close, her body reacted by flaming to life. 'Twas like an illness making her feverish. He kneeled on the stairs, blocking the light from her eyes with his body. His skin was bathed in a fine sheen of sweat and she balled her fingers into fists to keep from swiping her hand over the corded muscles of his shoulders and down his bare chest.
Truly, he took her breath away. Hair as dark as the bark of the trees in D'Naath hung long to his shoulders. A short, clipped beard and moustache graced his angular jaw. Would that beard tickle her lips and her cheeks when he rubbed against her? And what of his mouth? Could he perform magic on her body with that mouth?
How would his beard and lips feel lower on her body?
"Is there something wrong, Solara?"
She shook her head, forcing her thoughts away from pondering his full lips. "No. I was just catching the morning sun and breathing in the beautiful air of summer."
"You appear unhappy." He reached out and traced her forehead.
Shock registered deep within her at the power of his touch. She backed away from his hand, unable to bear the sweet torment.
"What is wrong, sweet Solara?"
Oh please go away. I cannot bear the pain of your touch, the fiery promise in your deep voice. She shut her eyes and willed him to disappear. When she opened them, she found his dark eyes studying her, a frown on his deeply handsome face. "There is nothing wrong. I must go find Noele now."
But when she stood and turned to leave, he reached out and laced his fingers around her arm.
"I have to. I cannot stay here."
"What if I ask you to stay?"
His voice held a teasing edge, and yet the undertone carried a serious question. Were they still talking of her leaving to see Noele? Or had their conversation shifted to something deeper, more permanent?
Something she'd thought constantly of, but refused to lend voice to.
"You know I cannot. I am destined elsewhere."
He dropped his hand. "Aye, I know. It's foolish."
"Aye, it is."
She should walk away. Or he should. Neither of them had the right to be alone together. Solara knew that, and she was certain Roarke did, too. But he didn't leave. And she found her feet to be immobile.
But standing here next to him, inhaling his musky scent, forcing her hands to remain at her sides so she didn't reach out and touch him--'twas all too much to bear.
"I should go."
He still watched her, tilted his head to the side. "Aye. You should."
"There is no reason for me to stay."
"No, there is not." He reached for a scarlet curl, threading it through his fingers. "And yet you remain."
"You could leave," she offered, wondering why he expected her to be the one to walk away.
"I could. But for some strange reason I don't wish to."
She closed her eyes for a brief second. His words should mean nothing. He played a game with her, and nothing more. But when she opened them again, she realized he was as torn as she was, and unable to take a step either forward or backward.
"This is wrong, Roarke. We should not even be talking."
He released the curl he'd been holding and moved his hand over her bare shoulder, letting it rest there. She fought her body's reaction to his touch, to no avail. She was on fire.
"I think there is much unsettled between us," he whispered. "I would speak with you alone this eve, if you can manage."
Her breath caught and held as his eyes flamed, mirroring the desire she found so often in her own reflection. So, he had felt it too. That all-consuming passion for someone who was nearly a stranger. Knowing he had feelings for her only made their situation worse. And yet she was too curious to resist that which she knew she should.