Chapter 22
Bellanca slowly opened her eyes, cool, dawn quiet and thin gray light greeting her through a sparse canopy. A warm body curled around hers from behind, a heavy arm across her waist and a big hand gripping her breast over her tunic. Her senses instantly ignited.
“Carver?” she whispered.
“Still sleeping.” He nuzzled the back of her neck, and hot shivers rushed down her spine.
“Sleep talking?” Her smile was ridiculous. Ridiculous and huge.
He chuckled. His warm breath caressed her nape as he pulled her closer, locking them together on the thick bedroll shielding them from the night-damp ground of the forest. The fresh, verdant scents and still somnolent sounds of nature surrounded them, and a soft wool blanket half covered them—a layer she didn’t really need with Carver cocooning her in his warmth. “Logic has no place before the sun rises.” He kissed her shoulder, then seemed to drift back to sleep, his muscles relaxing around her.
Bellanca lay there, wrapped up in Carver and anything but sleepy. Every sensation jumped out at her in living color, and her hard-beating pulse carried a searing mix of magic, amazement, and anticipation through her. What she’d always imagined about intimacy and what she actually felt with Carver were so different. Whatever virginal unease remained kept disappearing the moment they touched and a bonfire of passion ignited. Instead of wanting to escape, she wanted more, nearer, fiercer . Nothing made her feel trapped or vulnerable. Things between them had only just changed, but Carver made closeness and desire feel so natural. It was a new sort of magic—a heady one, different and deliciously untamable. She wanted to follow it until it scorched her.
Her skin tight and her heart racing, Bellanca luxuriated in the feel of a heavy, loose-limbed Carver against her thrumming body. She’d only packed one larger version of their camp bedding, which had seemed very bold and committed of her a day ago but now seemed like excellent foresight. Unfortunately, they’d both been too exhausted and sore after a full day of travel—and much of it on horseback for the first time in months—to make good on the flirting they’d managed to fit in between watchful silences, speculation about gods, and trying to plan their Power Bid for Atlantis.
Carver’s even breathing veered toward soft snoring, and she huffed, incredulous. How could he sleep when she was strung so tightly you could shoot an arrow off her?
The tension gathering inside her demanded she move, and she wiggled her hips, fitting her backside right into the curve of his body. “Carver?” She rubbed against him. “Are you awake?” Brimming with restless energy, she pressed back harder and squeezed her legs together.
He groaned, the low sound half-sleepy and half-aroused. “I am now.” He thrust back, his hardening shaft gently prodding her.
Desire thumped in her belly. “I feel you,” she murmured.
“I know.” His big palm lightly caressed her breast. He slowly thrust again. Voice husky, hungry , he rasped, “Do you like it?”
“Yes,” she breathed out. Closing her eyes, she tipped her head back and arched into him, offering more of her backside and pushing her breast harder into his hand. A molten weight spread through her, the pressure ribbon-tight and wonderful. Magic sparked beneath her skin, burning the imprint of things she never knew she wanted right into her flesh. The idea of sharing her body used to terrify her, but now, certain parts of her silently screamed for Carver. “I never imagined…”
“Never imagined what? Desire?” His lips slowly brushed the back of her neck in an open-mouthed kiss as he held her breast, softly kneading. His thumb rasped over her nipple, and her mouth fell open, heat pooling in her abdomen.
“I never really thought about my own desire.”
“Or you repressed it.” Every word he spoke kissed the back of her neck, his lips warm and almost tickling.
Tingles washed over her, spreading featherlight goose bumps. A little breathless, she teased, “Someone’s confident.”
“Someone’s right .” He flicked his tongue against her nape. She gasped, her muscles tightening and reminding her of her soreness from the ride yesterday. He licked her again, savoring her this time as he stroked her breast and rocked her against him.
The ache inside her grew heavier and more urgent. “Maybe.” Probably. Low down, a growing knot of sensation tormented her with the conflicting need to prolong the intoxicating tension and unravel it immediately. She moved against him, faintly undulating. “I just never imagined you’d desire me .”
Carver stiffened. Locking her against him, he muttered, “You must’ve blinded yourself with your own fire.”
She bit her lip, half smiling. “You weren’t exactly obvious.” Craving more of the pressure and friction, she lifted her backside to get him moving again. Carver let out a controlled exhalation and returned the pressure, slow and soft, his hips lightly thrusting.
She moaned, reciprocating. There. Better.
“No… Not obvious. I just taunted you for months, wouldn’t let you out of my sight, crossed worlds for you, and happily pretended to be your husband for… How long? Ah, that’s right. Since the day you came home from Spiro’s and told me we got married while you were at work.” He pushed his hard shaft against her as he gripped her nipple between two fingers and pinched. A fiery jolt shot through her. Her breath caught, and arousal dampened her core. “Not obvious at all…”
Her heartbeat thudded between her legs. “Are you saying I’m obtuse?”
His chuckle rolled over her shoulder like the sultry rumble of a summer storm. “Something to work on, princess.” He toyed with her nipple again.
Her exhalation shuddered out. “I taunted you, too. As often as I could.”
“You were infuriating.” He nipped the curve of her neck. “In retrospect, I loved it.”
She laughed, pressing her thighs together and rocking her hips. Carver rocked with her. Heady sensations rose as fast as the Atlantian tide, demanding all her attention. Her thoughts turned distant, her focus on every touch of Carver’s fingers, every press of his long, strong body against hers, and every whisper of his quickened breaths across her fevered skin. The hard length of him prodded her, pulsing sometimes. Every soft thump made her core clench and her belly tighten. Magic whipped through her, adding to the pressure that demanded relief. She could never let her power out with Carver this close, but she could imagine climaxing in a wild burst of fire. It made her burn with need.
Tilting her head back, she sucked cool air into her heated body. How had the impossible suddenly become the inevitable? The unwanted the very thing she wanted most? Had she been so convinced of Carver’s undying love for Konstantina that she’d failed to see how he’d looked at her all these months? Or had she been too terrified of her own misgivings and feelings, of her visceral attachment to this man, to let herself envision any possibility beyond what they’d already established—teammates and antagonistic friends?
“The thought of being like this with someone used to fill me with dread,” she whispered, marveling at her own words. “Now that I’m living it, I don’t know what I was so scared of. I want to wake up like this every morning.”
“That’s because you’re living it with me .”
Carver. Yes. Need coiled inside her. “Is it really that easy?”
“Easy?” His low laugh moved her hair and heated her neck. He slid his hand down her torso, spanning her middle. “I wouldn’t describe anything about us as easy.”
She bit down on a smile. Magic blazed along with happiness, but no sparks popped out, and no flames escaped her. The closer she got to Carver—or different closer—the more easily she controlled her powers. Was this part of what happened when separated souls fully recognized each other? Things got easier, clearer, better? “Maybe that’s changing. I’m already less likely to accidentally burn you, and you’re far less moody. After only a few kisses, we’re both benefitting.”
With a low grunt, Carver nuzzled her neck. He thrust his hips again, pressing his rock-solid erection against her. “Just think what we can accomplish once we’ve claimed each other.”
Heat tore through her. “Yes.” She could almost feel them joining just from his words, her imagination as on fire as the rest of her. Carver’s hand on her belly slid up, the tip of his thumb grazing the underside of her breast in a teasing back-and-forth that made her gasp and shiver. She shifted against him but couldn’t get close enough. Impatient, she turned in his arms.
As if he’d been waiting for her desperate kiss, their lips met and locked, effortlessly connecting. Moaning, she wiggled closer. The hard length of him pressed against her lower belly, and she angled in to him, sliding her leg between his. Carver swept his tongue into her mouth, deepening the kiss, and need surged through her on magic-hot blood.
“You’re volcanic.” His throaty whisper came out more pleased than worried against her lips.
She exhaled in a rush, trying to cool herself. “No hiding anything, I guess.”
“No hiding ever .” Drawing away enough to look at her, he brushed her hair back, its soft glow illuminating the morning shadows and highlighting the contours of his face. She wasn’t in the habit of controlling small things like the inner smoldering of her hair and the radiance of her eyes around Carver, and she liked seeing him lit up in her glow. “I’m volcanic, too. It just doesn’t show as much.”
“The difference is that I could burn you.” She didn’t want to, would never on purpose…
His eyes flicked over her face. “You’re worth the risk.”
She rolled her lips in, emotion suddenly on the cusp of flooding out. When had anyone ever given her so much? Given her everything? “You make me want things. Want you .” A flush crept over her. Voicing her feelings aloud was still hard, no matter how far they’d come.
“Good.” His dark eyes heated. “Because I want you, too.” He gripped her waist, rolled onto his back, and pulled her on top of him. Straddling him, she gasped, abrupt agony shooting a violent protest through her legs.
“Good gods .” She took heavy breaths, trying to bring the flaring pain back to a stable ache. “I’m really not used to riding anymore.”
Holding her hips, Carver quirked a brow. “That bad?”
“You try straddling something and see what happens,” she snapped.
He chuckled, half laugh, half groan. “It’s probably wisest to save our legs and strength for the day ahead.”
She rolled off him with a long, thick moan, her legs practically creaking as she brought them together again. “My body forgot what it’s like to be on a horse.” Sighing, she gingerly lay down beside him, both of them stretching out and testing their limbs. Disappointment settled over her, those tense, needy sensations still sparking inside her, but she was also aware of a subtle sense of relief as she laid her head on Carver’s shoulder and nestled into his side again. A woman didn’t reinvent herself in a day. Maybe it wasn’t a bad thing to kiss and touch some more before doing anything else—things that would change them and their lives forever.
Carver’s arm came around her, his hand settling into the curve of her waist. “I’d love to mock you right now, but I truly can’t. I’m as stiff as you are.”
“We’ll warm up and it’ll pass. Muscles are helpful that way.”
“Are you suddenly an optimist?”
She huffed. “I’m always the optimist here. You’re the one who’s all thunderclouds and grunts.”
He grunted in reply, and she smiled, contentment sinking deep into her bones. Getting used to them was definitely a good idea—or the them they were now.
They lay there for a few minutes as the dawn light brightened from dull to warm, listening to the horses shuffle and graze. Birds trilled back and forth to each other around the clearing, and in the silence between breaths, Bellanca could faintly hear surf crashing against the eastern coast of the island.
Carver finally took a deep breath and sat up with a wince, bringing her with him. “My seat bones are already protesting the idea of getting back in the saddle.” He glanced toward the horses. “But the Shard of Olympus awaits. Hopefully,” he added with a touch of his usual cynicism.
Bellanca wasn’t at all ready to start the day and would happily have lazed there until the sun set again. Some part of her desperately wanted to delay launching back into their mission when they’d barely launched into their new life.
“Wait.” She reached for Carver before he could rise, fear suddenly churning inside her. What if things didn’t go as they hoped? What if everything ended before it even began?
He stopped, his brow creasing. “Bel?”
“I’m happy—truly happy—for the first time in my life.” She swallowed hard.
His eyes softened, warmed. He squeezed her hand. “Your words make me proud.”
She inhaled raggedly, her heart clenching. This man…strong, brave, steadfast, hers . Looking at him, all the blazing emotions inside her compressed into one diamond-hard truth. The gods were right. Their connection did make them dangerous. She would protect their future together no matter what. And if Hera tried to destroy it with a flick of her pitiless fingers, Bellanca would burn off her hand.
***
They made good time thanks to the horses, and it was midmorning the next day when they crossed into magical creature territory and started moving up the coast to the north. Even near the shore, the land was heavily wooded, and dryads peeked out at them from behind boulders and trees. The nature sprites eventually stopped hiding and openly followed them along the rough coastal path. Dryads were known more for their curiosity than for aggression and simply trailed behind, their soft and fleeting whispers to each other like a breeze through the branches, ephemeral, indistinct, and a little shiver-inducing when they washed over you from behind.
Bellanca shifted uncomfortably with so many eyes on her back. After nearly two days in the saddle, her legs and bottom ached less from the shock of riding again, and other, deeper concerns had overtaken her thoughts. Where were the vicious centaurs that had chased them off the only other time they’d journeyed this far to the north? And what about other magical creatures? She’d heard that basilisks and empousai roamed this area, and the last thing she wanted was an encounter with deadly serpents or vampiric beauties trying to devour them whole.
Vigilant, she kept her eyes on the woods. The sea wasn’t safe, either. An unrelenting tension gripped her chest, and she inhaled tightly, trying to loosen the pressure. Arete’s ears twitched. Athena had hidden the Shard of Olympus in a place where Atlantians definitely wouldn’t stumble upon it by accident, but she’d made it hugely perilous for them to find, too. And the dire possibilities didn’t stop with dangerous magical creatures—who considered this their land. What about the automaton harpies? The missing children? Hera? Her every thought went from bad to worse.
“I cannot wait to get this over with,” she muttered under her breath.
Carver glanced at her, his lips quirking. “I hope you’re not referring to anything to do with me.”
She didn’t have a laugh in her right now and made a face instead. “Hera knows where the shard is but can’t get it because of Athena’s spell, and neither can Eryx. She wants me to wield it in her name. Why me? Because I’m Thalyrian and can retrieve it? She would’ve given it to Eryx years ago if she’d known where it was.”
“Maybe she wanted him when he was the only choice to end Punishment in her name. No matter how terribly she’s been neglecting her duty—no, betraying it—she’s still the patron goddess of women and their welfare. She must know what’s better for the island. Now that you’re here, I think she wants you —but only on her terms.”
“She’ll have better luck with Eryx,” Bellanca ground out.
“Because he’s already in place?”
“Because he’s a greedy puppet. Promise him magic, and he’ll dance to any tune.”
“But why doesn’t Hera want the shard for herself?” Carver asked. “Wouldn’t that be easier? Just use its magic to win the war?”
“Maybe it wouldn’t give her the power she needs.”
He slanted her a questioning look. “How so?”
“She’s already extremely powerful. She can control thoughts, conjure animals, shape-shift, alter the weather, fly .” She’d seen that herself. “She’s immortal, eternally young, physically strong. What else could she possibly need except the undying love and loyalty of an entire chunk of the Olympian world?”
Carver’s mouth pursed. “So it’s not a weapon she needs. It’s something more powerful, something driven by human emotion.”
“Emotion—yes.” The path narrowed, and the horses funneled into the tight space between two bulging thickets, Arete taking the lead. It opened again, and Carver and Zeph sped up, returning to her side. “There’s nothing more powerful. Emotion determines everything we do, good or bad. It can drive a person to great heights or great depths.” She lifted a hand and let her sun-flare magic heat the air between them. “Attachment, loyalty, devotion created this. Just imagine what new heights—or depths—Hera could reach if she suddenly monopolizes the fervent worship across all of Atlantis.”
Carver let out a low whistle, shaking his head. “Enough to overpower Zeus and take his throne.”
“Enough maybe even to exile him. He could end up in his own horrible prison with the souls he’s tormented in Tartarus for eons.”
Carver visibly shuddered, and Zeph tossed his head, as attuned as ever to his rider and friend.
Bellanca touched the amulet around her neck, her finger slipping into the empty oblong spot in the middle. As much as some things were starting to make sense, others didn’t, and every breakthrough just led to more questions. “But why can’t Hera just give magic back to Atlantis herself, or use the shard to do it? Why does she need me to end Punishment? Or Eryx?” She grimaced, his name like rotten fruit on her lips.
“Other gods can’t undo a god’s work. We already saw that when Hera cursed Cat and Persephone couldn’t reverse it. None of the Olympians could. It’s why we had to search outside of Olympian magic.”
“But the shard is Olympian magic.”
“But you’re not a god. Neither is Eryx.” Carver shrugged. “I don’t think it’ll be the shard reigniting magic at all. It’ll be you . The shard will just amplify your natural ability enough to…ignite something huge.”
She nodded slowly, her eyes narrowing in thought. “So in the hands of any Magoi, it could do the trick?”
“Any?” He arched dubious brows. “I doubt it. I’m not fully convinced Eryx would be able to bring back magic, even with his murder ceremony.” Carver’s jaw stiffened. “I guess it depends on how powerful he would’ve been without Punishment.”
“And that, we don’t know…” Bellanca murmured, thinking. “He might not be powerful enough, but what if I’m too powerful? What if I set Atlantis on fire? I have no idea how much oomph to give, and it hasn’t rained in weeks.”
“‘Fire in the sky.’ That’s what Cleito said.” Carver swung a storm-gray gaze on her. “Go slowly, I guess?”
“Oh, that helps.” She rolled her eyes. “Losing my newfound sister is bad enough. Possibly burning down an entire civilization is even worse.” She reached down and patted Arete’s sweat-dampened neck, looking for comfort more than giving it to her horse. Poor Cleito. Was she alone? Afraid?
Her throat thickened. Of course she was. And Bellanca had no idea how to rescue her sister without damning worlds to Hera’s spite and wrath.
“Hera must be watching. We’re practically on her doorstep.” Carver nodded ahead as the distinctive cave formation above the water finally came into view around a bend. “There it is. The owl cavern.”
Her stomach dropped, everything in it souring like goat milk on a hot day. Soon, Hera would know the choice she’d made—and kill Cleito to punish her.
Her heart like lead, she peered into the woods, then glanced behind them. “Nothing’s attacked us—yet.”
Carver huffed, the cynical sound the least reassuring thing she’d heard all day. “Hera wants us to free the shard. Maybe she called off the creatures.”
“Good point…” They neared their destination, and Bellanca couldn’t help feeling less confident by the second. Unease roiled inside her as they guided their mounts down a steep incline to a small, sandy cove. The cavern entrance hung over the water at the north end of the beach, part of a cliffy outcropping rounding out the inlet. The rock formation looked just like Athena’s symbol, the owl.
Dismounting, they left the horses to wander the beach and eat sparse, tough seagrass near the edge of the sand. Between Mount Olympus looming to the north and the Shard of Olympus somewhere nearby, power buzzed in the air like cicadas in the morning. Even Carver felt it and rubbed his arms, frowning, while Bellanca’s skin prickled with magic, biting from inside and out.
She made a conscious effort to keep her fire in check as they moved on foot toward a narrow spit of rock that ran almost parallel to the cavern entrance and would bring them closer to the opening. A slight breeze offset the midday heat as they clambered onto the granite ledge and picked their way toward the tip. At the end of the ledge, they stopped and looked at the opening across from them. Gentle waves slapped the rocks and reflected sunlight onto the roof of the cavern, painting it in bright ripples before darkness conquered the inside.
“Low tide. Calm sea.” Carver nodded toward the owl formation. “That’ll help us.”
Bellanca glanced out over the great ocean basin. Maybe the favorable conditions were Poseidon’s doing. Turning back, she eyed the distance to the roughly rounded entrance. “This part’s yours. You’re the better swimmer.” They’d already agreed that Carver would dive to find the shard while she kept watch from the shore.
“You don’t sink, which is all that matters. You should try swimming more often.” Carver unbuckled his belt and dropped it by his feet. He pulled his tunic over his head and dropped that, too, his muscled back rippling.
She watched him, her lips parting and her breath quickening as a different kind of heat stole through her. “All that water makes my magic fizzle.”
“You’re more than just your magic.” He glanced over his shoulder and caught her ogling him. “Like what you see?” He winked.
She snapped her mouth shut. “You could use a rinse. You stink.”
Chuckling, Carver finished undressing, his back still to her. Bellanca couldn’t take her eyes off him, an ember heating in her belly. She’d never seen him fully naked and stared with open curiosity and frank appreciation as the rest of his clothing joined his belt and tunic on the rocks. His wide shoulders tapered to a lean waist and strong buttocks several shades lighter than the rest of him. She bit her lip, her eyes dipping and taking in his long, powerful legs. The slightest movement sent muscles shifting under his skin, and the dusting of dark hair covering his limbs made her want to reach out and run her hands over them. She curled her fingers in, sliding them over her own palms to ease the ache for sensation. She swallowed. Even his feet were attractive. Long and almost elegant.
He turned and her eyes snapped up, skating over his front too fast to fully appreciate the details. She still glimpsed a significant manhood nestled in a thatch of black hair and the chiseled muscles framing his hips and lower abdomen. She already knew the ridges of his torso and his broad chest by heart, the protective pendant she’d given him a permanent fixture just below his collarbone. Her pulse thrummed, desire and magic humming in her veins and swirling through her body. She kept her eyes on his face, a flush burning over her.
A knowing smile curved Carver’s mouth. “Do I live up to expectations?” Somehow, his teasing rang like an all-too-real question, and his expression sobered.
She nodded. “Mine.” Hot and thick, the word poured from her like lava down a long, ragged hill. Flames briefly licked over her as she gave in and looked her fill, her eyes slowly dipping over him. Her mouth went dry. She didn’t touch, but oh, how she wanted to.
Carver stepped toward her, and she lifted her gaze again. He reached out, his eyes heating. A little tug brought her flush against him. “Yours.”
Her breath caught. One word, but it meant everything.
He dipped his head and kissed her. Their lips fused, and relief sang through her. He growled softly, deepening the kiss and tightening his hold on her. She pressed into him just as hard, wanting to mark herself with the imprint of his warm skin and strong body. She craved the heat they generated. It was better than any fire. A fierce, urgent need swept through her, unfurling from the depths of her soul. Not just desire, but the utter necessity to keep them whole, intact, together . Without him, she could’ve been fearless. With him, she might be stronger, but she was so vulnerable.
“Carver.” His name came out edged with sudden desperation. This was a turning point. For them. For their mission. What if it all unraveled?
He slid his kiss toward her ear. “Mine,” he rasped. “Now. Always.”
Her breath shuddered. “Yours,” she whispered.
“Say it.” His gaze searched hers. “Now. Always.” Sunlight warmed his skin to gold and brought out the flecks of silver in his eyes and the darker, blue-gray rim around his irises. She drank him in—his long, strong nose, angular jaw, and soft, stubble-framed mouth, his lips just perfectly shaped for kissing. His intense look turned questioning. “Bel?”
She shook her head. Fire in her eyes, she murmured, “I’ll say it when you’re deep inside me, and I’m claiming you back in that barbaric southern ritual of yours.”
Carver exhaled sharply, a wry smile curving his mouth as he wrapped his arms around her. “You’re killing me.” Voice like gravel, he said, “What happened to the blushing innocent who couldn’t wait for me to put on a tunic in the morning and cover my manly torso?”
She smiled against his chest. “You burned her up with your first kiss, and I tossed her ashes out the window.”
His gruff laughter stirred her hair. “Never say that.”
“Oh, you liked her, did you?” Tilting her head back, she lifted her brows in question.
He chuckled. “I was madly in love. No one else could annoy me so thoroughly.”
Her eyes widened. In love. Her heart squeezed, then plummeted, punching a hole in her stomach. The dangers they faced and the uncertainty of tomorrow mocked her. She squared her shoulders, trying not to show the terror suddenly engulfing her. “I have plenty more annoying you to do, so come back to me—safe and whole.”
Her voice still wavered, and Carver frowned, tilting his head as he looked at her. “This is just the beginning.”
“It better be,” she said sharply.
“It is.” Carver’s gaze held hers. “You and I are forever.”
Her breath shallowing, she murmured, “The heat between us burns me, and I’m made of fire.”
His lips curved. “The things you say.” He shook his head, smiling wider. “Never stop.”
Her words didn’t hold a candle to madly in love in her opinion, but she was glad she’d made him happy.
She stretched up and kissed him, tender but ardent. “I thought that if I gave a part of myself to someone, I’d never get it back. That I’d be less, weaker. But now I see the truth. I’m more . Stronger.”
“ I’m more.” He kissed her again, harder. “What I didn’t have any more lost all hold on me when I started seeing what I do have. And it’s better, deeper, real . I love you.”
Her heart jagged painfully sideways. “Stop.” She swallowed, her eyes burning. “This isn’t supposed to feel like a goodbye.”
“It’s not.” Carver touched her cheek. “Everything will be fine. The sea is calm. There’s no one here and nothing around. Everything’s quiet. It’s not too deep with the tide low, and the water’s so clear I can see straight to the bottom. I’ll dive until I find the Shard of Olympus. I’ll bring it back to you.”
She nodded, exhaling shakily. “I’ll keep watch from here.”
Carver’s eyes flicked toward the beach. “If anything does happen… If she comes, or if you’re outnumbered by anything, take the horses and run.”
She snorted, her spine abruptly stiffening. “You really are an idiot.” She stepped back, shoving him lightly. As if she would ever flee and leave Carver behind. She shook her head, scowling.
He grinned. Reaching out, he slid his hands into her hair and pulled her toward him. He crushed their lips together, too quickly, and then his hands were gone, the heat of his touch and mouth already leaving her. “In that case, burn them all, Firebringer.”
She nodded. She would.
Without another word, he stepped toward the edge and turned, his magnificent body gilded in sunshine, then dove into the water.