TWENTY-ONE
Gideon
The fire flickered bright and hot, and Gideon held his frigid hands to it.
Seraphine lay in his lap, curled asleep.
She often accompanied him when he left the cottage to continue his watch.
They sat under a hollowed portion of rock that faced the glacier.
It blocked the wind and allowed him to see the hole that yawned on the surface of the ice, dark and silent for almost two months now.
He had set up camp in the hollow space, with a propped canvas as a shelter and a crate that held cooking implements, blankets, and some food.
The time that passed worried him, and he often wondered if Hara had met with some trouble.
Perhaps the two-headed monster on the beach had caught her, or her mother was proving difficult to reason with.
Maybe they could not convince any other sorcerers to take the plunge into the pit again.
There was no way of knowing, and so Gideon had to remind himself that while time stretched into weeks here on the outside, inside the stone it may have only been an hour.
Once a week, he made the short journey back down the mountain to visit the fae and Alcmene.
She was adjusting well to life outside of the stone, and she and the fae couple had become amiable companions.
With her help, they expanded their underground home and added two new rooms.
Gideon thanked them profusely for opening their home to two human strangers, but they always waved away his words.
There was a hot spring that burbled up into a pool nearby, and during his visits, Gideon would soak away the chill of the mountain.
Afterward, he would savor the comfort of a roof over his head and, over a supper of hearty root soup and wild fowl, they would speculate.
“If Hara succeeds in getting the others out, the stone will no longer provide magic to the city,”
said Gideon.
“It will be gradual, but eventually, they will start to notice.”
“If each person takes several months to extract, it might be so gradual that no one will notice until a significant number have been freed,”
said Alcmene.
“But there will come a day when they do notice, and when that day comes, I don’t know what my father will do,”
said Gideon. There was an ominous silence after this statement. Who would receive the Commander’s wrath?
“Would they attack the fae?”
asked the fae woman softly. Gideon wanted to assure her that his father would not move against her people, but he could not promise that.
“He might. What was the agreement between them?”
“After my sister showed them how the stone could be used, they were promised that they would be granted special protection under Corvus, unlike the sorcerers. He entrusted them with this special privilege under the condition that the stone continued to provide the city with power.”
“And the fae posted no guards?”
asked Gideon.
“The stone protects itself. It has been used by our people for hundreds of years and has never come to harm. Anyone who comes close to it would either fall to their death or become trapped in the stone with the others. It needs no guards,”
said the fae man.
“I think Armot counted on that. It was easy to hold up their side of the deal.”
“Then it is very possible that the fae could be targeted if the magic dries up. They could even be thrown into the stone as replacements to supply magic to the city.”
The fae man and woman wore matching expressions of horror, and Gideon felt heartsore.
He knew his father too well.
The ruthless efficiency that Gideon had been raised to admire seemed unimaginably cruel now.
His father would stop at nothing to solve a problem.
Briefly, Gideon thought of the new weapon he was building, and worry ate at him like boiling acid in his gut.
It had never bothered him before, the idea of creating magically enhanced weapons.
Now that they knew the true source of the magic in the river, it was all the more monstrous.
“We should warn them,”
said Alcmene.
“They need to know what is coming.”
“If they learn about what Hara is doing, they will send their own fighters to put a stop to it,”
said the fae woman.
“They will wait for her to emerge and kill her, and any sorcerer that is with her.”
Gideon slumped back in his chair.
“We need to let the fae know that they are in danger without revealing why.”
“It has been many years since we were exiled from the fae court,”
said the fae woman.
“I’m not sure how we will be received. They might kill us, or imprison us, in which case we would need to rely on the sorcerers to set us free. And I’m not sure if we could ask that of them.”
“It comes down to whether we are willing to risk our freedom to save them,”
said the fae man, taking her hand.
“We don’t have to do it. We do not owe them safekeeping.”
“But I do,”
said the fae woman heavily.
“I am also their Rexina. I dissented because I knew that aligning with Corvus meant we would become tools of his oppression. It is a false safety.”
Gideon stared at her.
“You would have been a great leader.”
The fae woman smiled sadly.
“I spoke up thinking that I was right and that everyone would see it. I made the crucial mistake of thinking that would be enough.”
“Fear is a persuasive politician,”
said Gideon. It was something his father was fond of saying.
“We will consider warning the fae,”
said the man.
“Thankfully, we have time.”
That conversation had happened over a month ago, and they still had not made a decision.
Gideon pulled his cloak tighter about his shoulders, but Seraphine did not stir.
He reached down and scratched her behind the ears.
He remembered something Hara told him about the cat all those months ago in her cottage. Something about how the cat’s life would end when hers did, as her magic sustained its long life.
Seraphine purred at his touch, and he felt relief at each delicate breath and the warmth emanating from the sturdy little body. At least he knew Hara was still alive.
The cat’s eyes opened suddenly, and it sat up.
A small dark shape caught his attention from the corner of his eye, and he was instantly alert.
A snakelike creature was moving over the rock, and Gideon tensed, reaching for the hand pistol he had retrieved after emerging from the stone.
When it came closer, he realized that it walked on four legs.
An otter made its way toward them, and Gideon kept his grip tight on the pistol.
Seith.
He’d seen the sorcerer shapeshift before when he had pulled Hara from the river.
At the time, Gideon grudgingly accepted the disgraced traitor, even if Hara seemed to revile him.
Now, he was wary. He had not seen Seith since Hara told him not to accompany them.
Finally the otter came to stop before the fire, eyeing him.
“Seith,”
Gideon said tonelessly.
The otter seemed to waver and ripple, and then the rangy man materialized before him, the flickering firelight making him look even more gaunt.
“Lord Falk,”
said Seith.
“I trust you are well?”
Gideon glared at him. He would not waste time exchanging niceties with the fallen prince. Seith cleared his throat awkwardly.
“I have some news from the valley. The magic has disappeared from the river. I felt it dissipating all day, and when I swam down to the city, there was chaos. The power is gone. The lights are dark, the autocars and the transportation have all come to a standstill. I went to the palace and it is in an uproar. There is panic.”
“But how?”
asked Gideon, standing. His gaze slid past Seith to the pit on the glacier. All was still and quiet. If there had been some catastrophic event that destroyed the stone, it had been subtle.
“I was hoping you could tell me,”
said Seith.
“Have you seen any sign of them?”
“No,”
said Gideon.
“There has been nothing for weeks. What could this mean?”
“I do not pretend to know the intricacies of how the stone works. The only ones who do are the fae, and they are notoriously unreliable in their magical knowledge.”
“So you’ve made clear,”
said Gideon dryly. It was obvious the Ilmarinen prince still held onto prejudices against the fae from the old court.
“There’s more,”
said Seith.
“There is talk in the palace that the war down south has reached a permanent ceasefire.
The Lenwen king has gone missing, and his sister has fallen in love with the Norwen Steward.
They are planning to wed.”
Gideon’s head reeled at this news.
King Bryan was missing? Only a few short months ago, Gideon had been tracking Bryan and his men, ready to trade the king’s sister for land, and now he was gone? He had been surrounded by twenty or thirty trusted men-at-arms.
It seemed impossible that all of them could have failed him and let him come to harm.
Something was peculiar about this, and with a sinking heart, Gideon wondered if this was another plot of his father’s to drum up hostile feelings between the two countries.
But it seemed his father had not counted on the princess and the Steward somehow growing feelings for each other.
And if the princess was in love with the Steward of Norwen, then the poor bard in the village—
Gideon groaned.
How stupid he had been not to have seen it.
The Steward was an eccentric, according to his father.
Of course he would choose to disguise himself as a dirt-poor bard for his tour instead of taking a troupe of servants and wagons filled with comforts.
Gideon still did not know why or how the Lenwen princess had come to live with him, but that was neither here nor there.
The war was ended, the city was in shambles, and his father would be dangerous.
If he was willing to attack the Lenwen king to cause discord, Gideon did not know what else he was willing to do.
And if his father found out that Hara was the cause of the stone’s failure . . .
Above the constant cracks and hisses from the glacier, there came a rumbling from deep within the ice.
Gideon and Seith paused, looking towards the river of ice.
There was silence, and then another boom sounded and shook the very air.
Seraphine’s fur was standing on end, and she let out a low yowl. Gideon bent down to stroke her.
“Shh, it’s all right,”
he said mindlessly, all the while straining to see in the dusky light if there was any movement.
Then the booming grew deafening, and Gideon saw a flare of orange within the ice at the edge of the glacier.
As he watched, the ice began to glow red, as though magma was threatening to erupt from it.
The glow faded briefly, and when it reappeared, it burned so brightly that Gideon took a step back, not knowing what force was behind it.
He and Seith crouched low behind a nearby boulder.
Though they were several hundred paces from the glacier, there was clearly something otherworldly that was forcing its way through.
The wall exploded outward in a shower of ice shards and boiling water.
Fire and white hot sparks poured from the opening as though it was the maw of hell.
The glacier groaned as the ice shifted, threatening to collapse over the fiery cavern.
Gideon and Seith slowly peered over the boulder as the flames died.
Through the smoke and the dripping edges of the melted wall, figures began to emerge.
They seemed to be dressed in robes and rags, some standing tall while others clung to each other.
There was a woman who stood to the side of the opening, her hands raised as though she were propping up the fragile arch above them.
Gideon stood and stepped around the boulder.
There were so many.
His body felt weightless as the realization dawned on him.
She had done it.
Somehow, she had freed them all.
As the last figures emerged from the opening, the woman with raised hands let them fall, and as she did, the entire tunnel caved in with an earth-shuddering crash.
The blocks of ice quickly settled, and soon there was no evidence of their passage ever existing.
And then Gideon saw Hara at the very back of the group.
She supported her mother as they walked, and without thinking, he ran.
He ran down the slope, scattering rocks and skidding down haphazardly.
He leapt over chunks of ice and sprinted when the ground leveled out, splashing through the icy glacier runoff.
She saw him, and her eyes seemed to glow.
A few of the surrounding sorcerers shied from him, but he did not care.
All he could see was her face, and all he wanted was to feel her in his arms.
At last she was there, and he lifted her up, kissing her with an abandon he had never allowed himself before.
Her lips were cold, but they quickly warmed under his mouth and she kissed him back, twining her arms around his neck and tilting her head to lock them together.
She was safe, and he would never let her go.
Angharad
Hara warned the sorcerers that there were witch hunters stationed throughout the mountains, but there were several who took the chance and left without a backward glance.
Many more stayed behind as they became accustomed to a world that was not created by their own minds.
Gideon showed them to the camp he had been living in for the past few weeks, and they quickly settled in.
With the help of Roger and other fire mages, they were able to get several more fuel-less fires started.
There were some healers within the group and someone was able to multiply the blankets and food that Gideon had stored, and soon everyone was resting in relative comfort.
But Hara knew they could not stay there.
They would need to move by the next day at the latest.
Gideon told her about the state of the city, and it was as she feared.
Already, the effects of her actions were being felt, and soon someone would be sent up to investigate what had happened to the stone.
Seith was there waiting, and Hara burned with cold fury.
Her mother froze by her side, clamping her hands around Hara’s arm when she caught sight of him.
Seith’s eyes widened when he saw Desideria, and he made as though to push his way towards them through the crowd.
Hara shot him a scathing look and jerked her chin to the side, daring him to come one step closer.
She would not let him near her mother again, even if she weren’t injured and disoriented.
Thankfully, he realized that Hara was not above making a scene, and his steps halted.
His shoulders drooped, making him look like a lost child, until he turned away with a mournful glance over his shoulder. Wise.
“I can’t believe he would lay his hands on you,”
her mother muttered, glaring at him.
“He promised me he would never do that.”
“He didn’t. That was only your fear, Mother. The real Seith is far too cowardly to confront me directly,”
said Hara.
“The real Seith?”
asked her mother, turning confused eyes to Hara.
Hara felt it would only confuse her mother if she tried to explain that the mock-Seith in her realm was not the same as the one who stood among the crowd of sorcerers. It would take time for Desideria to separate the blurred concepts of reality and dreams. At least the mock-Seith’s attack had instilled a hatred in her that the real Seith deserved all along.
Hara watched him with loathing as he clasped hands with his fellow sorcerers, who welcomed the sight of their prince in their ignorance. She knew his secret, and he would never lay hands on her mother again.
She did not trust Seith, but she knew that there were others in the group who could easily demolish him if he did anything untoward. Before she and Gideon made their way down the mountain, she pulled Roger aside.
“Watch him,”
she told Roger in an undertone. His laughing face turned sober at once as he followed her gaze toward Seith.
“He is a traitor and a coward, and if he tries anything, feel free to scorch him.”
Roger set his hard jaw and nodded once, rubbing his knuckles.
“Never liked him. His brother was decent; would have been a good king. But something didn’t seem right about that one.”
Hara studied his corded arms and tall form.
“With your power, are you sure you aren’t part Ilmarinen yourself?”
Roger laughed, delighted.
“If only my mother could hear you say that. She insisted that my father was a distant Ilmarinen cousin. Always wanted to rub shoulders with them. But if that’s my kin,”
he said, nodding toward Seith.
“I’m better off a bastard.”
Hara grimaced, inwardly agreeing. She wished she had never learned who her father was.
“I’ll leave my familiar here,”
she said, watching as Seraphine received pets from a witch nearby.
“If anything is amiss, she will come and fetch us. We’ll be just down the mountain to see some friends. Unfortunately, I don’t think their home is big enough to sleep upwards of fifty sorcerers.”
“It’ll be nice to sleep under the stars,”
said Roger with a grin.
“I almost missed the cold; my world was sweltering.”
Hara smiled at him and went to where Gideon waited with her mother.
“Who is he?”
Gideon asked lightly as they made their way across the plain.
“Roger Brightbellow. He is a powerful fire mage. It’s thanks to him and Odessa that we were able to get out of the ice.”
After a pause, he said.
“Is Odessa his wife?”
“No, she just offered to help. She is able to make things weightless with her magic.”
“Hm,”
said Gideon, but it sounded more like a snort.
“He seems like he’s much older than us.”
“He’s a little older, but I don’t know if he’s married,”
said Hara. Then she noticed the firm set of his mouth that gave away his nonchalant expression.
“Are you jealous?”
“Why should I be jealous of an older, muscular sorcerer who can make fire powerful enough to blast through ice walls?”
said Gideon irritably.
“Don’t forget his rugged good looks,”
teased Hara.
Her mother surprised them both when she patted Gideon’s shoulder.
“You are very handsome,”
she said.
“And you’re brave—you have no magic, but you still went into the stone. And you dress well.”
Gideon’s expression at this dismal list of accomplishments was so pitiful that Hara couldn’t help but laugh.
When they reached the cottage, Alcmene came running out to meet them. They all embraced, with many tears and so much squeezing that Hara found it difficult to breathe. The fae couple stood in their doorway, glad smiles lighting their faces.
When they had all gathered inside the snug burrow, food and steaming drinks placed before them, the fae woman turned to Hara.
“How did you do it?”
Hara took a drink to wet her lips, and then she told them of the monster, the knife, and the disintegrating stone.
“There is an old saying,”
said the fae man.
“‘Have knowledge of poisons, and know where your enemy gets their water’. It seems iron was an effective poison.”
“Your skill has grown,”
said Alcmene proudly.
“To perform a transformation of that size while under stress—it’s no easy task.”
Hara felt her neck growing warm at her tutor’s praise. How she wished she could show her the formulas she and Melietta had been working on in Sarai’s laboratory.
“So, the stone is gone,”
said the fae woman.
“Will the fae be upset?”
asked Hara. She knew it was sacred to them, but it seemed to inspire fear more than devotion.
“Some might, for the principle of it. That place was special because it was the largest intact deposit of sorbite ever found, but we have mined it for centuries. The fae still have smaller stones to use for magic.”
She held up her hand, and for the first time, Hara noticed that she wore a bone ring set with a cloudy, deep stone.
The fae woman rested her hand on the table, and Hara tore her eyes from it as the woman spoke again.
“I am more worried about the Emperitor’s reaction. You have the gift of Sight. What is Corvus doing right now?”
Hara gathered what reserves of strength she had left and cast about in the influence, trying to find Corvus.
She found him easily.
He was huddled in a dark office, sitting on the floor and bumping his back against his desk repeatedly.
His hands were curled like claws against his head.
She felt for Commander Falk, and he was also in his study, but he was gazing out the slim arrow slit windows.
His hands were behind his back as he gazed down at the darkened city.
A faint sound reached her, as though a crowd of thousands was roaring below.
There was a knock on his door, and Turnswallow entered.
“Send a party up to Herebore,”
Falk said.
“A dozen armed men, including your Recruiters. Report back what you find.”
Turnswallow nodded and turned to leave the room.
Hara surfaced from the vision.
“He has charged Turnswallow to come here with a dozen men. They will be here by this time tomorrow,”
she said. They all looked at the dark sky and breathed in relief.
“Good, that gives us time,”
said Gideon.
“But what will we do?”
asked Alcmene.
“We must go to the fae realm to warn them,”
said the fae man, and everyone turned to him.
“We have had time to think and discuss it, and I believe this is the time.”
“But even if you warn them, where would the fae escape to?”
asked Hara.
“We have many strongholds,”
said the fae woman.
“Some are more regularly used than others, but it is not unheard of for the court to uproot every hundred years or so. So long as the Rexina is there, the others will follow. Much like bees in a hive.”
“And the sorcerers? What is their fate?”
asked Hara.
“The fae could offer them a place to hide at the new court, if my sister would allow it. It might sway her to see the faces of those she condemned. Otherwise, they are free to escape to Mycan, or south to Norwen and Lenwen where sorcerers are free to live as any other.”
“Now that the war is over, it will be even safer,”
said Gideon. At Hara’s curious look, he explained.
“The princess Alexandra is to be wed to the Steward of Norwen. He was disguised as a bard for the past year. Seith heard it from the palace.”
Hara couldn’t help the shocked gasp that escaped her.
So Tom the bard was the Steward all along.
She knew Alexandra was noble, but she never would have guessed that she was next in line for the Lenwen crown.
Consummate actors, the pair of them. It was difficult to pull her thoughts back to the conversation at hand.
“But if any of the sorcerers wish to come and aid us, we would greatly appreciate it. We are all magickind. And if Corvus finds any of us, there will be violent retribution,”
said the fae woman.
“Who knows? With that much magic aligned and pointed towards Corvus, we might have a chance to defend ourselves.”
“Desideria, can you See what will happen?”
asked Alcmene as she turned to Hara’s mother.
“Can you See if we will be safe?”
At Alcmene’s words, Hara’s mother placed her hands over her ears and shut her eyes, shaking her head back and forth.
“Won’t. Won’t look,”
she muttered.
“Seith conditioned her to fear her visions. He hurt her,”
said Hara softly, wrapping an arm around her mother’s shoulders until she felt her relax.
“I don’t think she will willingly look for some time.”
There was a tone of outrage from everyone at the table, and Gideon’s eyes blazed in anger.
“I’ll kill him myself the next time I see him,”
he muttered.
Hara shared in his anger, but she felt appeased knowing that, at the very least, there was a blast of molten fire trained on him in the form of Roger.
Conversation turned to plans for the coming day, and Hara held her mother’s hand throughout it.
They showed Hara and her mother to the hot spring so they could wash, and afterward Alcmene led them to one of the new rooms she helped the fae create.
It was hollowed out so that the ceiling and walls were circular and lined with whitewashed stone.
Alcmene put out a new bed roll beside her own while Hara gently applied a healing spell to her mother’s leg again.
The bruising was still intense, and her mother winced and panted as the numbing spell wore off.
The fae woman entered with a tray of teacups.
“Old recipe,”
she said, passing a steaming cup to Hara’s mother.
“It gives dreamless sleep and eases pain.”
Hara’s mother sipped her tea, and the fae woman left them. With a final pain-relieving spell of her own, Hara kissed her mother’s brow and turned toward the door.
“Wait,”
said Alcmene, passing a steaming cup into Hara’s hands.
“Oh, thank you,”
she said gratefully, gulping down the hot tea.
“I could use a dreamless sleep.”
“It’s not for sleeping, my girl,”
said Alcmene in her brusque voice.
“It should last for a month, at which time you’ll need to find a new preventative.”
It took a few moments for Hara’s weary mind to comprehend her tutor’s meaning, and only at her mother’s chuckle did she understand.
“I don’t think I’ll be needing this tonight,”
said Hara.
“I’m not likely to swive anyone when I can hardly keep my eyes open.”
“Are you simple? That boy has been waiting for your return for months, out there alone on that mountain,”
said Alcmene, her eyes narrowed in her weatherbeaten face.
“One doesn’t need the Sight to foretell what will happen. We don’t need any more little Falks running about.”
“You worry too much, Mene. Hara is a grown woman now,”
said her mother with a soft smile.
“Don’t listen to her—that kind of attitude is how she ended up with you,”
grumbled Alcmene.
Her words would have been offensive coming from anyone else, but Hara laughed.
She had almost forgotten Alcmene’s sharp tongue.
Twenty years in an enchanted prison had not dulled it a whit.
Gideon waited for her in the cramped hallway, holding the hand lantern she recognized as the one she had taken from the palace.
He led her to the second room that Alcmene had made.
It was identical to the previous one, but this room had been used by Gideon when he was not up on the mountain.
When they stepped into the room, he closed the door behind her softly and pulled the latch tight.
His fingertips trailed lightly down her arms before he took her hands and led her to the small cot.
Exhaustion clung heavily to her like wet clothing.
She could not remember the last time she slept.
“How long was I gone?”
she asked him.
“A little over two months,”
he said, brushing her damp hair from her shoulder.
“It’s been almost four months since we left the palace. If anyone came to search for us, they would have given up by now.”
Gideon’s hand hadn’t left her as he played with her hair and traced it down her arm, but there was nothing lustful about his attentions.
She felt in his touch the longing and relief that she was here, and whole.
Hara brought up her hands to caress the sides of his neck, his shoulders, reveling in his tangibility.
His eyes were warm and clear, half-lidded as he watched her face.
She had almost forgotten how beautiful he was, and it made her a little shy.
“You should get some rest,”
he said, turning away to arrange the bedclothes.
She crawled between the covers and he followed after, extinguishing the lantern light.
No sooner had the darkness blanketed them than sleep claimed Hara.
She walked along the spiral hall again, wandering alone and passing rooms with confusing images.
A ship at sea, a wedding, Corvus embracing a young man.
She walked quickly, the scenes filling her with an unplaceable sense of dread, and then there was a blinding spark of light.
The rooms seemed to evaporate under the glare, as though the light was a physical force, and all that existed was the shining, burning oblivion—
Hara stirred, disoriented.
Her heart seemed to beat an irregular rhythm, and she placed a hand over her chest to calm her breathing.
For a terrifying moment, she did not know where she was, and then she heard Gideon’s breaths and felt his arm resting heavily across her stomach.
Her heart slowed as she concentrated on his breathing.
The sorcerers were free of the stone, and for this small pocket of time, they were safe.
This room was real.
The stones under their bedding, the gray light seeping through the window, the stream outside and the woods all around were real.
And Gideon.
She turned under his arm and buried her face against his warm chest.
He stirred, his arms tightening around her with drowsy strength, and he pressed his lips to the top of her head.
“Bad dream?”
he murmured.
It was more than that.
The time in the stone had altered her in ways she was not yet aware of, and it frightened her to think that the things she saw might be more than mere dreams.
There were things she did not want to see, but would force themselves to be known.
It felt like a curse.
At her silence, Gideon sketched his fingertips up and down her arm.
“Do you wish to talk about it?”
Hara closed her eyes and concentrated on the journey his fingers made, the warm gentle drag across her skin.
It reminded her of his quiet caresses the night before, almost tentative.
For Hara, it felt like they had only been separated for a day, but it wasn’t so for him.
She drew his influence over herself like a blanket, slipping into his past.
She Saw the long cold nights on the mountain, the wind ripping at his shelter and giving him little rest.
Looking over his shoulder, trying to pick out the sound of footsteps over the cracks and groans of ice, in constant fear that his father’s men had found him at last.
Seraphine curled by his side, nestled in his bedroll.
The hours he spent staring at the dark pit, haunted with uncertainty as the weeks passed.
The longing.
It tinged his memories, soaked them.
Oh, how he had missed her.
Hara opened her eyes, and her hands found his shirtfront.
“No. I don’t want to talk.”
Fisting the fabric in her hands, she pulled until his mouth bloomed over hers, inwardly thanking Alcmene.
As they kissed, his lips opened and his mouth grew bold and demanding, tipping her head back. The hesitancy in his touch was gone, and she felt all the yearning from his memories spill forth as he took her invitation.
He was lithe muscle under her hands as she pulled off his shirt, and he wasted no time bunching up her shift and lifting it over her head.
He formed a cage of heat around her body as he climbed on top of her, and he smelled of the cold mountain and the herbal soap that the fae used.
The delicious weight of him pressed deeply between her hips as he settled there, nipping at her shoulder and running his tongue down to her nipple.
Hara panted, trying very hard not to moan.
The earthen walls were thick, but she did not know how sharp fae hearing was.
“It’s been so long,”
he said in a rough whisper against her breast.
“I missed you for every hour of every day. I got no rest from wanting you.”
He ran his hand down her body until his fingers brushed her lower belly.
“Did you miss me too?”
Slowly, his fingers reached the ache between her thighs, and he let out a shuddery breath when he felt her.
“Oh, you did,”
he whispered, capturing her mouth as his fingers became wet and slippery.
“Gideon, please,”
she breathed into his mouth.
She felt his smile against her lips.
“Not yet. Let me have a taste,”
he said.
“Climb up.”
She only hesitated for a moment before she grasped his meaning. Then she untangled herself from the bedclothes and clambered over his chest, resting her knees on either side of his head. Gently, she lowered herself so that she barely felt his breaths against her.
“Is this . . . I don’t want to crush you—”
Her words were cut off as he gripped around her thighs and pulled her down, hard. His hands kept her locked and spread for his mouth as he began to feast at her in fluttering, sucking caresses.
Hara arched her back as a sharp, sweet flicker burned where he licked. Only the concern that she could be smothering him kept her earthbound. She tried to raise herself higher, but he let out a grunt and yanked her down again.
“I don’t want you to suffocate,” she said.
“I do. I hope I die like this,”
he said in a rough whisper.
“Use me. Ride.”
Despite her worries, she gave a tentative rock of her hips. He groaned in approval, so she did it again, and again, and soon she found her spine growing supple as she lost herself to the pleasure. Even the sharp tip of his nose provided relief, and she found guilty pleasure as she rode him with more and more abandon.
Before she lost herself completely she stopped, certain that he had grown tired of using his mouth. But he pulled her back.
“Not until you come,”
he growled.
“If it takes all night, you ride my face until you come apart. Drown me. Fucking smother me.”
His words were her undoing, and she forgot her careful movements. She reached down to grip his hair as she ground down onto him, seeking the pressure and friction she needed to fulfill his demands. Her pleasure sparked and ignited, and she came with shaking knees atop him, her muscles spent.
Then she was pressed back down onto the bedroll, and in place of his tongue came the bluntness of his cock, filling her excruciatingly slowly.
“Gods,”
Gideon hissed, and his hand reached down to grip at her arse, holding her open. He began to move out of her, and when he entered again, he plunged deeply. Then his patience seemed all but depleted. He began to ride into her, hooking her leg over his arm to keep her spread for him.
“I want you to come again, Hara,”
he panted.
“Can you do that for me?”
Hara nodded and slipped her hand between them, rubbing at the sweet crest that was sure to quicken her climax. Gideon faltered as he realized what she was doing, then he recovered and surged into her ferociously.
“If I could see what you were doing right now . . .”
“Imagine it then,”
Hara demanded breathlessly, and he bit her shoulder to muffle his groan.
“Do you know what I’m going to do to you after you come?”
he said.
“I’m going to wrap those gorgeous legs around my shoulders and clean you up with my tongue.”
A shiver of surprise prickled her skin. “Again?”
He nodded.
“Whenever you’ll let me, Hara. I’ve been without.”
His words kindled the burning desire that had been building since his fingers found her in the dark.
With every stroke, Hara felt herself rising, canting her hips to meet his.
She clenched around him so hard that he had to work to push through her tightness, panting harshly against her neck.
She imagined him watching her touch herself, and all at once she was there.
He thrust through her orgasm relentlessly, making her muscles shudder in release as glowing hot stars sparked under her skin and pulsed through her blood.
Then he was no longer inside of her, and heat bloomed over her sex as his mouth settled between her legs.
He ran his tongue through her wetness, dipping it inside of her and lightly brushing her sensitive spot.
She brought her knees up and almost let out a cry, but he pulled her legs down so that her thighs rested on either side of his head.
He took his time, thoroughly tasting every fold and every wet patch of skin on her inner thighs.
“So messy,”
he said with satisfaction, wiping his mouth on the linens before kissing his way up her stomach.
“You must really like me, Hara.”
She could do nothing but whimper and grab at his hips to pull him back inside.
The playful words died on his lips as he entered her again, chasing his own pleasure now.
She wanted it to be good for him, to reward him, and so she squeezed her inner muscles and whispered his name.
An aggravated moan escaped him in response.
Hara wrapped her legs around his waist and ran her hands down his sinuous back.
Even in the dark, she could feel his beauty as he thrust hard into her.
Her hands found the silky locks of his hair and she pulled, feeling her climax rushing up again unexpectedly.
“So good,”
she cried.
“Gideon, I’m coming again.”
“Oh fuck,”
he ground out.
His movements became tense and slow as his release trembled down his spine.
He was damp with sweat, and he buried his hands in her hair and his mouth against her neck, trying and failing not to make a sound.
When they were both finished and spent, he rolled off of her and they panted in the dark.
Then he reached for her as a bone-trembling weariness overcame her, and they slipped into unconsciousness without another word.
It was not usual, this relentless desire between them, and Hara was relieved that this, at least, could not be changed with time or distance or magic.
The dreams did not return that night.