Chapter 31 #3
Skirts whipping behind me, I sprinted around the fallen pot. The soup spilled out, bones crackling beneath my feet as I tore out of the cave.
Clouds gathered above me, thick and swollen. Black threads spun through them, lightning—magic—just like the ones I’d seen suspended over the debris in Hamarinn.
Wood splintered. Ice shattered.
The whole earth seemed to shift.
I sped down the path, a whir of blue and gold and silver, slippers skidding in the dirt, hem snagging on the rocks.
Behind me, laughter rumbled with the thunder.
I dared a glance back. In that split second, I saw only the rock face, the roiling of the sky.
Still, my heart beat harder.
Maybe the ogress was hiding, maybe she was a speck of dust, maybe she was a whisper on the wind.
The valley unfolded before me. I needed to get out. I needed to go. But where? Where was the exit, where was—
Red. A speck of it, peeking out from behind a mossy slope. I’d scoped this entire field, every dip, every knoll. Nothing. Nothing but vast, open wildness. And now…
I drew closer. The red speck bloomed into the curve of a cupola, the hillside giving way to four pale walls. A chapel on the riverbank, next to the willow’s weeping tendrils.
A shadow flitted against the stained-glass windows. Someone, something was inside—help. Lungs tight, legs burning, I sprinted to the door. It hung open a crack.
I burst across the threshold. “Hello! Help!” Dust wafted in the shafts of light funneling through the arches, spilling over the silent pews. Candles flickered at the altar, wax pooling onto the aged carpet. “Hello?” I called again, chest caving in with hopelessness.
In a fluid movement, quiet and swift as a wraith, a person stood up from the second row, turning to face me. And that guttered flame below my collarbone ignited into a wildfire.
“Ryder!” His name was a ragged exhale on my lips. Slippers thudding against the aisle, I crashed into his chest, winding a tight ball of his black t-shirt into my fist. “Please, she’s coming! Help me, please.”
He slid one of my loose curls between his fingers, twisting the ends. “You wore your hair half up this time.”
I gave him a shake, my hair falling out of his grasp. “Ryder, you don’t understand. She’s coming.”
“Who?” His long, dark strands fell over his forehead, framing his temples.
A different sort of heat burned through me, but I swatted it away—along with his hand. “Gryla!”
“That old hag?” A coy smile. That dimple I adored. “I can fight her off. But by the sound of it, you already did.”
“You don’t know how strong she is. I’m sure that wasn’t the last of her.” Releasing the fistful of cotton, I stumbled back. “Wait. Why are you here? Is this one of her tricks?”
He filled the short gap between us in one smooth step. “Our souls are bound.”
“What—” I shook my head, coherent thoughts vanishing amidst the shock. “What do you mean?”
“I broke the cardinal rule of a hunter,” he said, gaze sweeping my hair, fingers reaching for another rogue curl. “I second-guessed myself.”
I stilled, hardly able to form the next word. “And?”
He pulled up his sleeve, the blue-and-white river tattoo—the only one inked in color—flowing along the curve of his bicep. “The blood oath never fully sealed.”
That night at the Boardwalk, so many weeks ago, hit me with the force of a flash flood.
I sank into myself, my knees quivering. After Ryder had delivered me to the enemy—after he’d stood there and watched as I struggled to fight the Greater Demon’s evil magic—he’d handed me the very thing he’d stolen off my neck: my necklace. My conduit.
As my brain worked to block the heartache, the chaos, the memory, I’d actually forgotten that in the end, he’d helped me. And then I’d escaped.
We were still tethered.
“So, when I got sent to this realm”—I inhaled a lungful of icy air—“you did, too…”
He tucked the lock of hair he’d been playing with behind my ear. “The real mystery is what kind of trouble did you get into to put us…” He took in the arched room. “Here?”
“I—I’m looking for Gaia.” A step backwards.
A step forwards. “Did you find her?”
“I found Gryla. And…” My back thudded against a wall. “You.”
There was hunger in his eyes, pupils dilated so that only a hint of green flared around them. When he braced his forearm above me, his gaze dropped to my feet, my dress—each curve barely concealed by the thin layer of silk—the ritualistic paint smeared across my chest, my arms, my neck.
His free hand swept beneath my chin.
I shook my head. “No.”
A smirk, a parting of his lips, a nod.
“I’m not doing this.” Heartbreak echoed through me, as if I were reliving it all again. “This”—the word caught in my throat—“is off-limits.”
“Oh, totally.” His brows furrowed, mouth pursed, every visible part of his body disagreeing.
“Worse, forbidden.”
“That makes it more fun.”
“Sinful.”
“All sins are tempting.”
My pulse fluttered. His focus darted to the tick in my neck.
“So,” he said, our breaths tangling together. “What are we not doing?”
“I don’t…” The words were lost, but the tone held an invitation. “I don’t know.”
“Being brave?”
“Being reckless.”
“Right,” he said, biting into his bottom lip. “Let’s not do that.”
Wrapping my arms around his nape, I pulled him in closer, my mouth crashing into his.
Without a flinch, a thought, he sank into my lips, our tongues desperate, as if this could be ripped from us at any moment. Tucking his arms under my knees, he lifted me up, waist pressing into the space between my thighs.
I squeezed my legs around him, drawing us closer, tighter, chasing the friction.
“Saints,” he growled, “I’ve waited too long for this.”
I tilted my head back, staring at the grooves in the vaulted ceiling as he stamped kisses along the base of my neck. “You know I’ll go back to hating you after this?”
“Mmm.” The sound vibrated from the hollow of his throat into mine. “And you know I’ll go back to hunting you.”
I let out a breathy laugh, grabbing his jawline. “Then let’s make it count.”
He swallowed the words, his kiss soft and longing as his silken lips pressed against mine.
Slowly, he unhooked me, coming to kneel at my feet.
Eyes fixed on mine, his hands trailed under my dress, wandering up my legs. The tips of his fingers explored the curves, the dips, sneaking under the lace, featherlight, wanting.
I shifted my hips to stand wider, pressing my shoulders against the wall. “Are you second-guessing yourself now?”
“Baby, I’ve never been so sure about anything.” He pulled the fabric beneath my skirt aside, fingertips brushing the delicate folds of skin.
A whimper escaped me—a yes, a plea. That was all it took to undo him, to turn that dark gaze feral. The first finger slipped in.
Core shaking, I tilted around it. Another finger. More rhythm. From him, from me.
An intense wave of pressure built where another finger circled.
Hips swaying, I pressed a hand against the wall, the other fisting my hair, as I drove him deeper. “Oh, my God.”
In one swift tug, the flimsy fabric I’d called my underwear was at my ankles. I stepped out of them, kicking them over the tiles.
Sliding the hem of my dress upward, he handed me the roll of silk, face flushed with awe and desire, a color I hadn’t seen him wear since…
Anguish flickered like a weak heartbeat.
But then he was saying my name, brushing the word over my skin.
And then I was tugging at his thick strands of hair, hooking my leg over his shoulder.
“River, River, River.” He chanted it like a prayer.
“Ryder,” I answered, his name a praise, a song.
My body arched in response, waiting for those soft lips, drifting dangerously close to that aching, wanting piece of me.
He started at the top, at the tingling nerves. One lick. Two. A moan drifted out of me.
I pitched my legs wider, writhing in rotation with his tongue, every touch bringing us, bringing me, closer and closer.
His mouth swept higher, then lower, in and around, before I eased my palm behind his head. I held it there, in one trembling spot, twisting my fingers in his hair.
“Ryder,” I sighed, knocking my head back against the wall.
Waves of pressure built, spilling into my thighs, my core, my heart.
My hips picked up speed.
“Don’t stop,” I gasped. “Right there.”
A current tore through me, peaking between my legs, splintering off to the rest of me. I was soaring, I was weightless, my blood rushing, my body boneless.
My knees shook, hardly able to keep me standing, but he didn’t stop.
And I didn’t want him to—I clenched against every little zing, every little aftershock that swept through me.
Ryder was just as greedy, swallowing every last drop of pleasure, every last moan and shiver, until I was nothing but a limp, starry-eyed pile of cells.
He sat back on his heels, drinking me in. My silver and gold body paint dotted his cheeks, streaking his nose.
The hunger was still there in his gaze. It followed the rise and fall of my chest, the droplets of sweat, while I caught my breath. One taste wasn’t enough for either of us.
But it had to be.
His hazel irises swelled, eclipsing the darkness that seemed to be a permanent part of him now. I let my hem fall to the floor.
Taking his bottom lip between his teeth, he seemed to steel himself, leashing whatever had possessed him. After a slow breath, he rose to his feet, then held out a hand.
I stared at his open palm, unmoving, unblinking.
For a second, we weren’t in the Heimer Tofra, in a realm etched out of the hollowed-out walls of the elven castle.
We were on the beach, just north of Santa Cruz, getting ready to leave a secret cove, after having just watched the seals splashing and spinning.
A jolt of sadness rocked my heart. Would we ever get there again? To that place where it felt like us against the world, where I was just a grieving girl, and he held all the broken bits and pieces of me.
I locked my hands at my sides, curling them into fists to resist the temptation to touch him further, to walk out of those doors like nothing had changed.
Outside, the sky had grown darker, stormy. He followed me out, and I had to fight every urge to lean into the warmth of his body behind me. Lighting crackled in the distance.
“What changed?” A clap of thunder shook with my words. “Why break your oath?”
When he didn’t answer, I turned to face him, my chin kicking up. Beneath those long, dewy lashes, he stared. “Because you were more addicting than the magic.”
My gaze dropped to his sleeve, to the ripples of water inked beneath it. “We both know that’s the tattoo talking.”
He shook his head, his stare ignited by desire that felt far too real to ignore.
But Ryder had tricked me into thinking he’d cared about me once before. “Why come all the way here if you weren’t just going to turn me in again?”
“I needed you to see that there’s still a piece of the old me, deep down inside. That part of me you saw before you knew who, what I was.” Grabbing my hand, he placed it over his thundering heart. “See? It’s still there, beating for you. You’re the only reason it hasn’t stopped completely.”
My own pulse skittered, and God if I didn’t want to kiss him all over again. But I slid my hand out from his grasp. “You still gave me up. You still betrayed me. You still lied. I will always hate you for that.”
“You hate me? How’s this: I hate myself.” He fisted his hair, tugging so tightly it must have been painful. A muscle ticked in his jaw. “It keeps me up every fucking night, playing in my mind, over and over. Your face. The rubble. Having to stay away from you. It’s driven me mad.”
My eyes slipped back to his arm. “Pretty sure we know why.”
“You took a contract. You know how it feels now—what I risked, what it meant to go back on the oath. And that cursed magic claimed a piece of my soul.” He grabbed the sides of my head, and his lips hovered just above mine.
“But it was worth it. It’s worth every stab of pain, every hollow ache in my chest, because I didn’t care about anything—”
Our heated breaths danced in the sliver between us.
“Until I met you.”
Rain started to fall. Icy pellets drenched my silk dress, smearing the paint on my arms even more. Silver wisps streaked his chin, outlined his nose.
“Promise me something, baby?” A shadow of madness twisted his face as his mouth grazed mine. “Don’t forget about me when I turn.”
That final word was like a cold front, breaking the spell. I pushed him off. “Too late.”
Before I could get anywhere, he latched onto my wrist. “I have eternity to make it up to you.”
“What?” I spat.
“We’re stuck here for good.”
“No,” I breathed. “There has to be a way out.”
“Maybe it’s better this way,” he said, his thumb stroking the butterfly on my wrist.
If I listened closely, I swore a cackle wove its way down the mountain.
I met Ryder’s darkened gaze. “You’re not serious.”
“Let the realms fight it out. We can stay here. Together,” he said, as an arctic wind curled around us.
My free hand grabbed his chin, and I pinched it so hard, my fingertips hurt. “This isn’t the ruthless hunter I know—because he would never willingly stand down and put his tail between his legs. Now, snap out of it, Ryder. We need to get out of here.”
His face hardened, cheeks faintly blushing as if I’d struck him.
Latching my fingers around his tight grip, I took off across the fields. I dragged him behind me as sheets of rain spilled from the clouds, the ground muddy and sloshing, weighing us down.
My head swiveled, taking in the mossy cliffs, the shallow streams, the endless horizon.
“You can’t run from me forever…” Gryla’s voice echoed all around us, shaking the earth, my teeth, my bones.
Desperation thrummed in my veins.
Fingers squeezed mine. Ryder. I turned to face him, and the kernel of an idea, a saying, floated to the top of my mind.
“Aelphicas leges advoco,” I whispered, clouds mottled with the linings of black magic gathering over us.
His eyes narrowed, a question burning behind them, but I didn’t have time to explain.
“Aelphicas leges advoco,” I repeated, this time louder. “Ad veniam proelium. Ad misericordiam certamem. Ad gratiam mors!”
Lightning struck. The world ripped in half. Ryder was flung out of my grasp.
And I enacted elven law.