Chapter 31 The Moonveil
The second week of training for the trials was more challenging to sleep through than the first. Anxiety and expectation filled me every night. I was obsessed with practicing the third trial.
I knew it was impossible and yet I wanted to master it. I still hadn’t grasped the ruby, but I was getting closer.
The dragon guide had revealed the magma dragon’s weakness: heat. If I could overheat it, bring the rest of its body up to the same molten temperature as its core, its movements would slow, just long enough for me to reach the ruby.
The problem was time. I never had enough of it to conjure the mass of flames needed to wrap its entire body. The dragon was enormous.
During the day, my thoughts seared with desperate strategies to attempt to reach the ruby. The obsession devoured me. At night, dreams twisted into relentless nightmares, nightmares of the crimson dragon and its master. All I could see lately were those intense green eyes. I never truly rested.
Sleeping had been hard these days; the stress and anxiety kept me awake. And if I did, nightmares would taunt me. Tonight I couldn’t even find sleep, and I had no books left to distract me; I’d returned them all yesterday.
All I had left was Lorik’s dragon guide, and I’d already studied it twice.
When I checked the clock, it was past midnight. A full moon hung high in the sky, spilling pale light through my window.
Without changing out of my white pajamas, I left my room. No plan. No destination. I drifted through the dark halls of Solphire Tower, my mind consumed by the trials looming just one week away. Only when I stopped did I realize where my feet had taken me.
I stopped in front of the metal doors to the Hall of Mirrors.
I pushed the doors open, thinking I could practice wielding a large number of flames to overheat the magma dragon.
Inside, the room was dark, lit only by thin strands of moonlight reflecting off the mirrored wall.
I walked to the center of the hall, flames dancing in my hands and in the air. Suddenly, the metal doors behind me screeched.
I turned, flames growing in the air. A dark figure stood by the door, but I couldn’t tell who it was.
“Who is there?” I asked. The figure took two steps toward me, and my flames illuminated his body. As soon as I saw the face, I extinguished all the fire above me.
“Don’t stop on my behalf,” Lorik said. “I’ll leave you to practice.”
I hadn’t seen him all week. He had kept his word about staying away.
Lorik was turning around already. Desperate to keep him there for just a little longer, I said the first thing that came to mind.
“I couldn’t sleep,” I spat. “I wandered here to practice my flames against the magma dragon.”
“You are trying to overheat it. Smart,” Lorik responded. “The 5-minute trial practice is nearly impossible to achieve. So don’t stress yourself over not reaching it. You will have more time in the real trial.”
“I don’t stress myself over it,” I lied. “And you did it in under 5 minutes last year in your trial practice. Or so the rumors say.”
“Forget what I did. Forget what anyone else did,” he said, not flinching at my compliment. “Focus on yourself. You demand more from yourself more than needed,” he said, yet again reading me like an open book. “Isn’t that why you cannot sleep?”
“No,” I said, stepping twice toward him. “I have nightmares or… dreams that keep me awake.”
Lorik’s mouth half opened, but I asked something again before he could. “What are you doing here?”
“I don’t sleep much. I am a Moonveil, after all,” he said.
“I know that, but why here in the hall of mirrors?” I asked again, not knowing what response I expected from my question.
“Same as you. Practice, but I’ll leave you alone. You need it more than I with your trials next week,” Lorik said, turning around.
My heart raced. I didn’t want him to go. The truth burned close to the surface, my sleeplessness had less to do with dragons than with him. Seeing him walk away would destroy me.
“Wait!” I screamed.
Lorik tilted his head, looking at me out of the corner of his eye while my heart pounded in my chest.
“What is it, Princess?” Lorik asked. I knew what he meant. Stay away or stay with me. I waited a second too long to respond to the debate inside me, burning me.
“Stay,” I whispered.
He was suddenly there, portaled so close I could feel the heat of him. I met his gaze as he held my face with his rough hands.
“Thea,” he said. There he was again, repeating my name as if it were sacred. I was no
princess when it was only him and me. “I gave you space. I gave you time to walk away. If I touch you today, I won’t let you go. I won’t stay away from you ever again. So I ask again, you want me to stay or walk away?”
My need for him clouded my mind, turning every thought into noise. Being so close hurt, physically like my body strained toward something forbidden.
I was done with logic and done with restraint. I wanted him. All of him.
I couldn’t explain it. I only knew the heat was there, coiling and building inside me, unbearable and undeniable.
“Stay,” I said again.
Lorik didn’t hesitate. His mouth crashed into mine, desperate and claiming.
I kissed him back just as fiercely, our tongues tangling with despair.
My hands were in his hair, holding to anything I could to keep him right there.
His hand found my ass, pressing me to him.
His grip was possessive, his hunger unmistakable.
I moaned into the kiss, lust twisting inside me. I tried to push Lorik away, tried to deny this desire. But I couldn’t.
“I can’t get enough of you,” he breathed, driving me back against the mirrored wall. His hunger showed in every move, his hands tearing at my shirt. Buttons scattered across the floor as he paused, drinking in the sight of me.
“Don’t stop,” I demanded.
He pulled his shirt over his head in one smooth motion, muscles flexing as it hit the floor. My breath caught at the sight of him, broad shoulders, carved chest, power barely restrained beneath his skin.
He kissed me again, deeper this time, one hand sliding down my stomach, tracing heat in its wake. His mouth left mine, trailing over my jaw, my neck, my collarbone. My head fell back as pleasure spread, sharp and dizzying.
His fingers found me, already wet, already aching and slid inside me without warning. I cried out, my nails clawing at his back as he set a ruthless rhythm with his fingers. His mouth was closing around my nipple, drawing another broken sound from me.
My thoughts were completely shattered. There was only him, his hands, his mouth, the way he drew reactions from my body I couldn’t control, arching me helplessly into his touch.
When his fingers finally pushed me over the edge, the pleasure ripped through me so fast it stole my breath. And almost immediately, disappointment followed. I already missed him. Missed the way he made me feel undone.
Lorik studied me as I stood there, still panting and my body trembling. I wanted more of him, even though he’d already given me everything. It still wasn’t enough.
I couldn’t stand that he was seeing all of me, wrecked, open, craving, while he was still only half undressed. With one clean, desperate motion, I shoved his pajama pants down, freeing his hard length. My hand wrapped around him, squeezing firmly, confidently, and claiming.
A low, rough growl tore from his chest.
“You are going to be the end of me,” Lorik breathed, his voice strained, barely holding together.
His mouth crashed into mine with bruising force, reckless and hungry, and I welcomed it. Our tongues tangled as I moved against him, slow at first, then harder, needing to feel every reaction I pulled from him, needing to feel him lose control the way I already had.
The Moonveil in front of me was not the disciplined and restrained one I knew. That version was gone, and in its place stood something raw and wild, his desire pressed against mine, fierce and unyielding, mirroring the ache bearing tight in my chest. We had waited too long, that much was clear.
“Take me to your room,” I demanded. “Now.” The world blurred.
Seconds later, we were there. He lifted me easily, my legs locking around his waist as he carried me to the bed and laid me back against the cool sheets. His body filled the space between my thighs, his head pressing insistently where I needed him most.
His lips parted as if he were about to ask for permission again. Before he could, I spoke, cutting through the hesitation with a certainty that surprised even me.
Lorik had drawn something to the surface inside me, a version of the princess I barely recognized. One driven by want, by pleasure, by the undeniable truth that there was only one person who could undo me. Him.
“I want you,” I said.
Lorik’s eyes darkened, something dangerous flickering there as he didn’t hesitate. I had given the Moonveil permission. Permission to cross the line, to drag us both into madness.
He pushed himself inside me in one firm thrust, stealing the air from my lungs as my body stretched to take him. My back arched instinctively, his name tearing from my throat as a raw sound rumbled from his chest, wild and unrestrained.
He stayed there for a moment, filling me so deeply it felt deliberate, as if he were savoring my complete undoing. My hips rocked helplessly beneath him, instinctively begging for more. No, I was demanding it.
Then, finally, he moved.
He set a perfect rhythm, slow at first, then relentless. Each thrust stole more of my breath, scattered my thoughts further, until I couldn’t tell where I ended, and he began. There was only the motion, the heat, the way he made me feel.
“More,” I murmured into his ear, grabbing him where I could to bring me closer to him. I didn’t begin to have enough of him.
There would never be enough of his scent, his body, his strength. I shattered. I saw stars as he drove me to a pleasure I had never felt. My breath was short, and I was asking for it.