(n.) the state of being unaware of what is happening around you.

Raneem's knees buckled as she pressed her fist between her teeth to stifle her cry. The point between her thighs throbbed like wildfire and felt as if they were being fondled, caressed and played with. Every sensation that she felt down below coursed throughout her body, making even her fingertips sensitive. Her breathing came in rasps and she moaned despite the control she tried to wield. She bit her knuckles, not feeling any pain as all the feelings concentrated on only the pleasure between her legs. Gods, it was too much.

As mysteriously as it happened, the pleasurable sensations vanished, leaving her quivering on the floor. The hand she had been biting was bruised anew and the other had been holding onto one of the crystalline figurines that decorated Zane's room.

She concentrated on steadying her breathing. Steadying herself. She knew her dress was stained with her wetness and Zane would notice. Again. The first time it happened three days ago, he had stared at the wet spot and then at her face with his lips curled in a grin and his eyes set like a predator. He asked her what had happened and she lied saying that she spilled water and accidentally sat on it. But she knew he knew better, though he did not say anything. Even she could smell herself and it was certainly very distinct from the smell of just water. Besides, she knew she was red from head to toe with the question.

It was happening often - the tingling sensation and the arousal that came with it - but it was not often strong. Most of the time, she could control herself and hide it. She could only thank the gods that the intense tremors did not happen when Zane was around. She did not know what excuse she could claim for that.

She tried to stand but found that she was still too weak for that. Instead, she ruminated on all of it. Zane had backed off from touching her intimately as he did on her first night at the lake. When he did touch her, it was careful, tender and often at the places where her spine would tingle in response. And only very briefly.

Perhaps his sudden tenderness was the reason why she was having dreams of him night after night. His touches were always sensual and caressing, but never intrusive or forceful like the night at the lake. Her dream Zane was different from the real one that seemed to dominate everything. Not that she preferred one over the other. In her dreams, his hands and lips nuzzled her neck, her arms, her stomach and her thighs, never going further. Her favorite had been the first night she had dreamt it when he kissed her lips so tenderly, she was surprised her brain could come up with a tender elf after his forcefulness at the lake. Always her sleep was peaceful, and always, she looked forward to the dream and the glorious feeling she would have waking up.

She even started to worry for him when one night, he screamed cursing. His hands were grabbing fistfuls of the bed sheet and he was breathing as if he was in pain. He dismissed it as a nightmare when she asked him what woke him but she didn't believe him. His face was laced with pain, but he would not tell her anything. That was the night she dreamed him kissing her just above her hidden treasure. Part of her cursed him for disrupting that dream. Especially since it did not continue when she went back to sleep.

And then, there was another thing that troubled her in all this. He had never once questioned her about the state of her country. He had been so adamant at finding out what he wanted to know when he caught her, she expected him to start asking the same day. But not once had he asked. At least, not yet.

Her thoughts shifted elsewhere anticipating any word from her father. It would only be two more days before a messenger would arrive, if not her father himself. She didn't care if Amira would accompany him, she promised herself she would tell him the truth and she would accept whatever her father's judgment would be. But she would protect Adam if the king sentenced him to death for such treason. He was after all, her real father.

In her mind, it was all set, but she knew when the time came, it was not going to be easy and a few hearts, if not all, will be breaking that day. But her father needed to know the truth. And his acceptance or rejection of her would tell her how much her father truly loved her and her mother. It was all done for his sake, after all.

"Raneem?"

She spun around so quickly, she felt her neck crack and pain shot all around her neck to her head. She clutched them and bent forward in pain, whimpering. There was no one to blame but him. He should not be surprising her every chance he got!

The pain dissipated, replaced by warmth. Warmth of a hand engulfing her own and of lips pressed just below her ear above her hand. Zane's breath, as he chanted words she could not understand, roused her as her body tingled once again. His unique smell assaulted her and it was all she could do not to fling herself at him.

His lips grazed up toward her ear lobe and whispered, "Be careful next time," before he let go of her.

Her hazel eyes met his bright green ones. She recalled her dreams and quickly looked away. Again, his touch was brief but it inspired something in her. Something that made her want to curl up in his arms and stay there.

"Thank you," she said, not knowing what else to say.

Suddenly, he was in her line of vision once more, bending himself to meet her eyes. "I know I have been keeping you here like a prisoner for so long. Perhaps, you would honor me with your company around Treliron?"

"The honor is mine," she started, but remembered the problem she had with her clothes. "Perhaps you would allow me to change before we leave?"

Zane's face held that infuriating grin and predatory eyes once more, chuckling low. He knew and he was enjoying her squirm.

"Of course," he acquiesced in amused tones. "I shall wait for you outside." He took the figurine from her hands and put it back where it belonged.

Raneem let out a breath she did not know she had been holding when he exited the room. Her legs were still shaky but she could hold herself up better. She has had many suitors, daring dukes, mischievous marquesses, earls, counts, viscounts and even barons, but from none of them had she felt anything like she felt with Prince Zane. With them, she dreaded every touch, even the simple respect of touching their lips to her fingers. But with Zane, she wanted him to touch more than her hands. By the gods! She was beginning to understand why some women have been sleeping with rakes behind their husbands' backs. The arranged marriage brought them no joy and she shuddered to think what her life would be like marrying someone whose touches she dreaded.

But Zane was an elf, and she, a human. Without even a trace of elfin blood in her. It would be foolish to think that he had any interest in her. She knew he was only acting on his nature to mate for the year. It surprised her when she found out about it. That elves only mated once every twenty-one years and that marriage did not exist. Every elf was family and the child born from the mating of two elves in their mating year was brought up by all.

It was a strange custom, but it did make sense if one lives for too long. For all she knew, he was fucking another elf every time he went away. The thought twisted her heart and she recognized it to be jealousy. "Stupid, Raneem. Stupid!" She slapped her forehead. Of course it shouldn't matter. She had no claims on him. She had no right to be jealous.

Zane's smile greeted her as she stepped out, his hands outstretched and she took it. She could not deny the sensations that crawled through her hands to the rest of her body as her skin made contact with his. In a gentlemanly manner, he hooked her arms around his and she nearly groaned. She was still sensitive down there and with him so close, there seemed to be no rest for the yearning and the dull throb she was feeling.

"Treliron is beautiful," she said, trying to distract herself. "Every tree seems more alive here than in Gwahan and every creature more cooperative with each other-more docile."

"It's the Elixir," he said. "It breathes more life to everything. One of the main vessels is in the Ollan - the place where-we first met. I am sure you have felt things more strongly there."

She nodded. "Everything felt more real there."

He nodded. "It is one of the powers of the Elixir. We share its gifts of life. Some say we are its seed. But we do not really know. Its lore has been lost to us. Even our understanding of it is so little now."

"Perhaps, things are meant to be that way."

"Perhaps. We-" he stopped and a few moments have passed before another elf stepped into the clearing.

"My lord, one of the scouts has arrived. I believe she has something important to say," Nuat said.

Zane sighed. "Princess, forgive me. I have need to attend to this. I will be back."

Raneem nodded. "I understand, Prince Zane. I shall wait."

He gently took her hand and pressed his lips to her knuckles. She stamped down on a shudder as they held each others' eyes. And then he tore away and followed Nuat.

She watched him as he disappeared in the thick foliage and settled herself on leaning on one of the two huge trees in the area. It was not nearly as beautiful as the flora and fauna near the Elixir, but it was still leagues better than the tended gardens in her castle home. The leaves were more green and the flowers, brighter. Even the sun that shone through was not searing-hot.

Her eyes closed taking all of it in. She inhaled the myriad of smells that she would only describe as soothing. She was about to speak to herself when her throat constricted and her eyes shot open. Her first reaction was to scream, but the constriction was there and her open mouth only breathed out air. In front of her was the elf, Lucas. His eyes murderous.

"You are all the same wretched fools, are you not?"

Raneem slowly calmed herself. Whatever Lucas wanted, she was sure it was her fear. He fed on it to fuel whatever hatred he hid behind those eyes.

"You have taken our sister, raped her until she died of grief and shame. The truce was supposed to lend credence your honour, but here you are wrapping our prince in your little scheme." His hand snaked up to her throat and held her tightly below her jaws. "You are taking advantage of his weakness and I will not allow that. What I will do is fuck you raw so you won't even have the strength to do anything to him. I promise you, it will not be pleasurable for either of us, but I will do what I must."

Panic rose inside her and she found that she could not even move, but she let none of it show in her face. Outwardly, she knew she looked fierce and challenging because Lucas slapped her. She saw nothing but white and her cheek stung. Her jaw felt bruised and her ears were deafened by a single tone. But it was her throat that pained her the most. He did not let go and she could only gasp and cough as she felt herself getting choked.

"We will see how defiant you are when we're through. Princess." He said her title as if it were a mockery. "Have you anything to say princess? No?" His hand manipulated her head and found herself staring straight at him again when her vision cleared. "Well, first, let's see if you like how you're being treated right now."

Her eyes widened, disgusted at the hand he was bringing up her inner thigh. It didn't matter that he was perfection himself with his blue eyes and dark hair. She was disgusted to her core. She wanted to close her legs and stop him, but she was still unable to move. Most of all, she could not let him know that she had not yet fully recovered from her earlier ordeal, nor with the sensations brought by Zane. Despite her fear and disgust, her fearless look never wavered and Lucas' face flashed a hint of frustration that was immediately gone.

"Hmmm...I can feel your heat from here," he said, his hand about three fingers away from where no one has touched her before.

She wanted to cry, but she kept up the façade. She could not let this creature be the first one to touch her there. He had no right, but she could not do anything about it. His hand crawled up higher then suddenly stopped.

"If you do not stop, I will be forced to harm you. Do not let that happen, Lucas."

She knew that voice though it took on a dangerous tone. Hope flooded through her and tears she had been keeping threatened to spill.

"If you proceed with this, it is tantamount to harming the princess and it will shatter the truce. I will not let it be said that the truce was broken because of elfin idiocy."

In an instant, his hands let her go and so did the tightness of her throat as she dropped to the ground, shaking. Nothing had ever frightened her as much as what she had just gone through. Her senses closed in about her as if compensating for her helplessness earlier. He was so close and she could not do anything to protect herself. The tears were there, but she just could not show them to the man who sought to defile her. She felt the same sensation of warmth across her body, making her a little comfortable.

"...eem? Raneem?"

Her eyes saw him, but it was not after a little while that she recognized him.

"Are you well? Did he-did he touch you?"

Raneem could hear the anger in his soft tones. His eyes shifting from worry to outrage, flitting like a hummingbird.

"You came just in time." She could not get the quiver out from her voice. "Thank you so much."

His thumb brushed her cheek and it was only then she noticed that she was crying. Something about his tenderness let out all the fear, anger and anxiety that she walled in. The torrent of emotions denied her the ability to speak. But words were insignificant as her tears spoke her emotions and comfort came in the warmth of Zane's embrace.

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