Hi guys! We now welcome K.C. Wells as she visits with her new release A Bond of Truth, we have a great excerpt and a fantastic giveaway, so check out the post and click that giveaway link ❤ ~Pixie~
A Bond of Truth
It is twenty years since the Bond of Three returned to Teruna. The kingdom of Kandor, once Teruna’s enemy, seeks help and sends its finest warrior, Dainon, on a diplomatic mission. A solitary man since his wife and child died, Dainon is unable to explain why an encounter with a young man on a beach rocks his world to its core.
Prince Arrio of Teruna has always been attracted to men but has never acted on it—until he meets Dainon. Headstrong Arrio goes after what he wants, despite his fathers’ advice. But when Prince Kei arrives unexpectedly, Arrio finds himself drawn to both men. Is history repeating itself?
Prince Kei has his first taste of freedom, and is shocked when the visions that have plagued him since childhood become reality. The three men embark on a voyage of discovery. No one has foreseen the day, however, when the arrival of a stranger threatens to destroy their bond.
He’d come over the crest of a hill and there it was before him, spread out as far as the eye could see. The size of it, the vast expanse of sky across the horizon, the way its hue was reflected in the rolling waves, an ever-changing, constantly moving carpet of color and light…. Dainon had read of such things, but his first encounter with the sea left him in awe. The lakes where men fished in Kandor were tiny in comparison, and although Dainon had learned to swim in their waters, he yearned to dive beneath these huge, tumbling waves and feel them lift him up, support him. He wanted to sink below the surface and discover the mysteries hidden in its depths.
Dainon leaned over and patted Tarrea’s neck. “Shall we ride along the shore, girl? Kick up some sand?” She had earned a rest, as they’d been traveling since daybreak at a steady pace. He descended the hillside at a slow trot and followed the crooked path down through a rocky outcrop to the beach, its outer edges mainly shingle but giving way to white sand where the waves crashed in, all froth and lace. They trotted along the shoreline, the sound of the incoming tide loud after the quiet of his journey.
What brought him to a halt was the view of a saddled black horse tethered to a rock roughly half Dainon’s height. Five days without a single person crossing his path and his ears yearned for another’s voice, but there was no one in sight. Dainon scanned the beach, searching for some sign. He came to a stop and climbed down from Tarrea’s back before reaching for the food bag to hang over her ears. “Have a rest, girl.” He tethered her reins securely around another craggy boulder and left her to eat.
Dainon walked over the soft sand that firmed where the tide had washed over it. The air was salty and fresh, coming off the sea in cool wafts that made his skin tingle and revived his senses. He longed to take off his sandals and dip his hot feet into the cool water. Then he remembered that time was his own. He could do whatever he wanted.
He perched on a rock and removed the heavy leather sandals, dropping them to the ground. The breeze over his heated flesh was very pleasant. Dainon stood on the cool, damp sand and let out a sigh of contentment.
“It feels good, does it not?”
He jerked up his head and stared at the figure emerging from the waves. The young man was tall and lean, with bronze skin and toned muscles. He was perhaps in his early twenties, with light brown hair and blue eyes, the hint of a scruffy beard along his jaw, and the merest hint of hair on his chest. Water dripped off him, what remained beading on his glowing tanned skin.
Dainon caught his breath, shaken by his body’s reaction to the nude figure. Dainon had grown up in the company of warriors and was accustomed to nudity, but for some reason, the sight of all that toned olive flesh disconcerted him. The young man’s torso rippled with muscle, with a clearly defined vee where it dipped to his groin. His hips were slim, leading to toned thighs, and his penis, long even when flaccid, was the same warm color as his skin. It spoke of time spent nude in the sun, and the thought sent a shiver sliding down Dainon’s spine, though he had no idea why. He brushed aside his unaccustomed discomfort and rose. “After a long journey, it feels wonderful.”
The young man came to a halt before him, apparently unperturbed about being naked in his presence. “Have you traveled far?” he asked in a clear, rich voice.
“About five days on horseback,” Dainon replied.
The young man’s eyes lit up. “Where have you journeyed from?”
Mindful of his king’s instructions, Dainon replied truthfully. “From Kandor.”
Cool blue eyes regarded him with interest, but then the stranger tilted his head. “You appear weary. May I offer you some hospitality? My home is not far from here, and I can promise you plentiful food and a comfortable bed for the night.” Before Dainon could reply, he plowed on. “Please, do not refuse me. It would be no trouble, and I have been brought up to show kindness to strangers. Indeed, if my fathers knew I had not made such an offer, they would be ashamed of me.”
Perhaps Dainon was more tired than he had realized. And he couldn’t deny the idea of sleeping in a bed was extremely appealing. It had been many years since he’d spent more than one night on the hard ground, and he yearned for the softness of a mattress.
“Your offer is a welcome one,” he admitted, “and I would be a fool to turn you down.”
The young man’s face lit up, his eyes bright. “Excellent! Then perhaps I should introduce myself. I am Arrio, and I dwell in the city of Teruna. My home is only an hour or so from here. Shall we ride together?” He glanced down at his body. “Although I should probably dress first.” His mischievous smile was a delight.
Dainon extended his hand. “I am Dainon of Kandor.”
Slim, cool fingers wrapped around Dainon’s. Seconds later, the jolt that shot up his spine, lighting every nerve ending, froze him into stillness.
By all that is holy.
Dainon stared at their conjoined hands, his brain struggling to process what his body was telling him. Only once before had he experienced such a phenomenon, and in such different circumstances that he was left shaken to the core.
“What…?” He sought the words, but they remained tantalizingly out of reach.
“Is something wrong?” Arrio’s brow furrowed. “You are pale, almost as if you are on the verge of collapse.” He put his arm around Dainon and eased him into a sitting position on a nearby boulder. When he broke contact to move to his horse and grab the cream robe that lay across the stallion’s back, the sensations ceased abruptly.
Dainon found his voice. “Who… who are you?” It was on the tip of his tongue to ask what the young man was. Surely there was something… magical about him, some unearthly force that clung to him in an attempt to unseat Dainon’s reason. It would be the only explanation for what he had experienced.
I have felt such… power before. And the memory of it was as sharp as if it had been yesterday.
When I first felt the touch of my Tarisa’s hand in mine, and knew her for what she was—my soul mate.
The question appeared in the forefront of his mind before he could stop it. Then who are you, Arrio, that you should have such an effect on me?
Born and raised in the north-west of England, K.C. WELLS always loved writing. Words were important. Full stop. However, when childhood gave way to adulthood, the writing ceased, as life got in the way. K.C. discovered erotic fiction in 2009, when the purchase of a ménage storyline led to the startling discovery that reading about men in love was damn hot. In 2012, arriving at a really low point in life led to the desperate need to do something creative. An even bigger discovery waited in the wings—writing about men in love was even hotter….
K.C. now writes full-time and is loving every minute of her new career. The laptop still has no idea of what hit it… it only knows that it wants a rest, please. And it now has to get used to the idea that where K.C goes, it goes.
And as for those men in love that she writes about? The list of stories just waiting to be written is getting longer… and longer….
Where to find K.C. Wells: