Chapter 30
Iyana
On their trek back the night before, after Kaz so aptly dubbed Altair as ‘chuckles’ and Emmeric as ‘grumpy,’ she named Iyana ‘sweetcheeks’ (while blatantly checking out her ass), and Talon simply became ‘red.’ By the time they made it back to camp, it was close to dawn. It had been a few weird hours, and Iyana was exhausted. Altair had stoked the fire, and was sitting contemplatively, shut off from the rest of them. She didn’t dare approach him, instead lying near the fire and letting him stew in his own juices. Emmeric and Talon had both gotten into their bedrolls without another word. Kaz shifted into her impressive black leopard, nearly invisible in the night, curled into a circle and fell asleep purring.
After managing a couple hours of sleep—occupied mostly by a dream in which she was passionately kissing Emmeric, of all people—Iyana awoke to Altair sitting in the same position next to a now banked fire, wisps of smoke curling around him. Talon was awake, giggling as he scratched Kaz’s belly in her leopard form. The cat was rolling on her back and making little chuffing sounds. Emmeric was eating breakfast, watching his best friend’s antics. Iyana shook off the remnants of her dream.
“We should get going,” Emmeric said. “We don’t want to give anyone a chance to catch up to us.”
Altair silently stood, gathering his supplies. Iyana did the same, eating a small meal while doing so. Kaz shifted back, luckily keeping her clothes in place this time. But, Iyana realized, that would mean that previously she had shifted while she was naked, if her clothing had reappeared now. Then why had she been naked before? Iyana shook her head. The woman was a mystery, and not one Iyana would unravel in a few minutes.
Iyana climbed onto Pryn, Altair settling in behind her. She leaned into his warmth, and his arm snaked around her waist, holding her close. There was a bite to the air now, with autumn in full effect. Kaz joined Emmeric on his beautiful golden horse.
“Remind me why you can’t run as a leopard?” he asked.
Kaz pouted as she turned to him. “It makes my feet tired.” Iyana could almost sense Emmeric’s sigh of resignation, and it made her giggle.
Altair ran his nose up the shell of her ear until his lips were touching her skin. A shudder ran down her spine. “Careful, my star,” he said, so only she heard. “I’d hate to think you’re developing a soft spot for him.”
“What if I am?” she asked, breathless.
“Then I’d need to remedy that.”
Iyana’s heart beat faster, her lungs squeezing in anticipation. Licking her lips, she said, “Well, maybe I am, then.”
Altair pushed his forehead against the back of her head with a groan. “Are you trying to torture me, astalle?”
Thunder sounded in her ears, and she stiffened, her heart now pounding erratically. Panic creeped in at the edges of her vision, a black fog rolling in slowly, waiting to consume her. Her breathing quickened; her face tingled then went numb. The world disappeared around her, and she was right back in Uther’s dungeon with Azazel nearby, salivating at the idea of trying a new technique on her, to see how loudly he could make her scream.
Iyana flinched away from the feeling of a hand on her face, but it was warm. Large and firm. Not Azazel’s small, shriveled ones. Golden eyes pierced through the black, rolling fog, rooting her back in her body. Altair’s hand slid back into her hair, gently massaging her scalp. He took his time—letting her fall into herself once again. As her breathing stabilized and her pulse slowed, she recognized Altair’s calming magic pulsing through her veins, her own magic cowering in the dark recesses of her soul.
“I’m so sorry, astalle,” he murmured. “I’ll watch my choice of words more closely.” She nodded, numbly. “Can I kiss you?” His voice was strained, like he was punishing himself for her trauma. Iyana nodded again. His soft lips met hers gently, tenderly. This wasn’t his hungry kisses, when he took what he wanted instead of asking. This was an apology. Iyana kissed him back just as tenderly, conveying her forgiveness. In fact, there was nothing to forgive. There were bound to be various triggers she had yet to uncover.
As they broke apart, she noticed they were the only two left in the camp. “I sent them ahead,” Altair said. “I thought you might want some time to gather yourself without others around.”
“Thank you,” she whispered. Altair urged the black stallion into a slow trot, allowing her more time to recover from her anxiety attack before catching up to the rest of the group. Kaz and Tal were discussing something—it sounded like their favorite apples?
“I’m telling you, honeycrisp are the best…”
“You’re absolutely wrong. Granny smiths are unparalleled.”
Meanwhile, Emmeric attempted to keep as much space between himself and Kaz as possible. But she wasn’t making it easy, leaning back into him any chance she could or resting her hand on his inner thigh, all the while continuing her conversation with Talon seamlessly.
“Reds are better than greens!”
Iyana already enjoyed spending time with the shifter; she brought a fun energy and a levity that was needed. Talon was always good for a laugh or a word of encouragement, but it was nice to have the company of another woman. Iyana had never spent this much time around men and hadn’t quite realized how stinky they were without regular access to baths. Oh gods, did she smell terrible too? As inconspicuously as possible, she gave her armpit a sniff.
“You smell amazing, my star. Like lavender blooms in early summer.”
“Get out of my head.”
Altair only chuckled. Emmeric was looking at her with concern, but she wanted to avoid thinking about her earlier episode.
“Kaz, I have so many questions about shifting,” Iyana said, as a way to avoid the topic.
“Fire away, sweetcheeks.”
“Well, first, where are you from?” Iyana asked.
“Nyr,” answered Kaz.
“No shit, really?” Talon said. “I’ve never met anyone from Nyr.”
“Because the king and queen made it illegal to leave the borders. Anyone caught is jailed or put to death, and those who do manage to leave don’t come back. So over the years, people stopped leaving.” Kaz shrugged.
“That doesn’t seem fair,” said Emmeric.
Kaz raised an eyebrow over her shoulder at him. “And your emperor always does the right thing?”
“Point taken,” Emmeric conceded.
“So, why did you leave?” Iyana asked.
“Do I get to hear everyone else’s life stories, or am I only telling mine?” Kaz asked.
“I was in the royal guard for Prince Zane,” Talon said, then gestured towards Iyana, “but I helped bust this one out of the castle, so I guess I’m out of a job now. Emmeric here lost his parents when he was fifteen, joined the royal guard. We’ve been best friends since birth. Iyana is a healer from Istora. Her grandmother died recently.” Iyana screwed up her face at Tal’s blunt retelling of Imo dying. “And Altair is a star who fell from the sky.”
“Thanks for the riveting summary,” Kaz deadpanned, but she quickly smiled again, flashing her brilliant white teeth. “I left because I’m the oldest of thirteen kids, and my parents wanted me to take over the family business, but I have no interest in doing that.”
“Thirteen?” Iyana asked, astounded at the idea of that many children. Most people in Imothia only had one or two, very rarely three. “Are they all shifters as well?”
“Nope,” said Kaz. “Just me. Not even my parents. And let me tell you, my dad was pissed when I first shifted at the age of three. He was angry I had the gift and not him.“ She chuckled. “I tore through the house as a cub, yowling and clawing up the drapes. I had no idea what was happening the first time.” Kaz sighed and became the most serious Iyana had so far seen her. “As is the way in Nyr, because I’m the oldest and the most powerful, I inherit everything from my parents. But it’s not what I want… I want adventure, excitement, love.” She batted her eyelashes at Emmeric. “So I ran away, and I’m not going back. My brother is only a year younger than me at twenty-three. He wants the business more than I do, and as far as I’m concerned, he can have it.”
“Thirteen babies…” said Iyana, still hung up on that aspect of Kaz’s story. “Your poor mother.”
Kaz shrugged again. “We have excellent healers in Nyr. Though it was a little tricky with the triplets.”
Iyana nearly choked. “Triplets?” She’d known it was a possibility, but had never heard of anyone who actually had triplets in their family.
“Yep! There’s me, then my brother. Next is my other brother, he’s twenty, followed by my sibling who is eighteen. Then twin sisters, both seventeen. Two brothers who are fifteen and thirteen. Then two sisters who are nine and seven. And lastly, the triplets, two boys and a girl, are all currently three years old.”
Talon whistled. “That’s quite the spread.”
“I thought I had a large family,” Altair said. It was the most he’d spoken of his family, besides telling her the star family units were called constellations. Iyana desperately wanted to press more out of him but knew he wouldn’t open up. Not with everyone else around. He was exceedingly tight lipped about his history, his family, and Iyana didn’t want to push him if he wasn’t ready. He obviously had some trauma associated with being banished to the sky, especially with the tight spaces. Remembering back to how he’d trembled in her arms while they stayed the night in that cave, she decided to leave it be for the moment. He’d tell her more when, and if, he wanted to.
She still hadn’t told him all that had taken place in Azazel’s chambers, and she wasn’t sure she could voice them. The torture master continued to haunt her nightmares—she would find herself strapped to the cold, sterile table, awaiting pain. Iyana would wake in a panic expecting to be back in the dungeon, fingernails missing, back flayed open, and the past few days were an elaborate hallucination. In those moments she would focus on things which tethered her to the present—Altair’s earthy and sweet scent of petrichor, his warm hands on her body, the faint pulse of the connection with Emmeric in her chest.
“So, sweetcheeks,” Kaz interrupted her thoughts. “You’ve asked me a lot about myself and nothing about shifting.”
“Are there many of you left?” Iyana asked.
“Only a handful that I know of,” replied Kaz.
“Can you only shift into a leopard?”
“Yeah, only the one form for me. Nyr’s legends say, in the past, our ancestors were able to shift into any animal form they desired.” Kaz sighed wistfully. “That would be so convenient. But I am really fond of my leopard. It’s not all bad.”
“Wait, you said healers helped with the triplets. Is their magic just as diminished as ours is?”
Kaz shook her head, which flung her beaded braids into Emmeric’s face, making him flinch backwards. The shifter pretended not to notice. “Nope. We’ve been fortunate in Nyr to have retained a significant portion of our magic. Most humans still possess small amounts, and those with more power typically will become healers. Or another profession which is made easier by magic. It’s why, as a shifter, I’m more rare, and the most powerful within my family.”
“How is it that Nyr still has magic while the rest of Arinem doesn’t?” Talon asked.
“Simple. We worship Yrza, Goddess of the Moon; we named our capital after her. She was the one who blessed us with our magic.”
“But Athusa and Istora have seen their magic drastically decline since the gods went to sleep,” Emmeric said. “The only ones to possess any sort of magic here are the healer, and only very little. How is Yrza supplying you with magic when the gods slumber?”
Kaz patted Emmeric’s knee. “You poor, stupid boy. Yrza isn’t sleeping.”
Kaz refused to answer their group’s whys and how do you know questions after she dropped the bombshell revelation one of the gods wasn’t sleeping with the rest of them. Altair especially was interested in the information. Which made sense, as he had lived on Arinem while the gods were still awake and wandering the world. They’d eventually stopped pestering Kaz for more information when she snapped at them, saying she had nothing more to tell them. They spent the rest of the afternoon comfortably, jumping from one conversation to another.
They let Kaz in on the Aztia and Kanaliza business, which she took in stride, and their mission to depose Uther, who turned out to be a megalomaniac bent on world domination, which didn’t shock her in the slightest. Iyana guessed coming from a powerful family in the Kingdom of Nyr where magic still existed, not much would surprise Kaz. Other than Altair, it seemed.
A chill breeze blew through as the sun set, and they found a small clearing with a large rock formation on one side blocking them from the wind. Setting up camp, Altair wanted Iyana to attempt to start the fire with her magic.
“Should I…get Emmeric to help?” she asked.
“Not yet,” Altair said. “I want you to know what you’re capable of without him, what your limits are. What it’s like when he isn’t channeling magic into you, so you’re better able to control it once he does.”
“Okay,” she said, closing her eyes. The connection to her magic now was instant, the woman made of fire reaching out to hold her hand automatically instead of shying away. Scrunching her face tighter, Iyana envisioned a spark of flame in the palm of her hand. Only when she could feel the heat did she open her eyes—to find nothing there. Not even an ember. Sighing in defeat, she mentally pleaded with Altair to let her be done.
“You can’t be done, astalle. How can you expect to take down an emperor without your magic?”
“Get out of my head…” she mumbled.
“My star, you can’t learn if you give up when things don’t immediately go your way. Magic is a muscle and needs to be strengthened through hard work and determination.”
Shutting her eyes again, she wound her way back to her magic source. The woman was made of fire, after all, maybe she’d be able to help. Got any ideas for me? Iyana thought. Or better yet, throw some fire into my hand? A calming presence filled her, feeling like a mother’s touch. Tears threatened behind her closed lids; she tried her hardest to hold the sobs in. She hadn’t realized how much she’d been longing for her mother until that moment. How grounding the image of her mother had been in the dungeon. She had motivated Iyana to cling to life more than once. The calm, and love, within her allowed her to focus on the individual aspects of fire—the heat, the light, the crackle as it devoured its fuel, its burn when one wandered too close, yet the comfort and safety it provided. And she felt it. A small spark in her fingertips.
Opening her eyes, there it was, a flame hovering over her hand, no bigger than a date. Pride sparkled in Altair’s golden gaze. Iyana grinned. She maintained the fire in her hand until she glanced at Emmeric, her flame reflected in his bright blue irises, a heat to them reminding her of when she rode in front of him on the way to Athusia. I am still a man, he’d said as he ground his length into her. Iyana was ashamed to say she’d thought of that moment more than she wished to. There was a tug in her chest, and pleasure-filled warmth rushed through her veins. She and Emmeric gasped simultaneously, the connection taking hold of them both.
The fire in her palm grew from the size of a date to a mango, then a coconut, and soon was blazing taller than she stood, continuing to grow. Altair was shouting at her to control it, but there was no control. The fire was now a living being; it was in charge, and she was its vessel. It licked at the leaves of the trees above them, but Iyana could not tear her gaze from Emmeric’s. Suddenly the connection dropped, and her chest heaved with the unexpected emptiness, but the fire continued to rage. Then Altair was there, his hand on hers, and the fire bowed to his calming touch, reducing to only an ember. He plucked the ember out of her palm, allowing her to disconnect from her magic, and placed it in their pit, starting a much more controlled blaze. Iyana realized the reason for the broken connection as she saw Talon climbing off of Emmeric—he had tackled his friend to save them all from her.
Oh gods.Iyana began to shiver. Easily, so easily, the entire forest might have gone up in flames, endangering all of their lives. Covering her face with her hands, she sank to the forest floor, but strong arms encircled her waist, keeping her upright.
“Come with me,” Altair growled, practically dragging her into the trees away from the others. Which was for the best. She had no idea how to gain control of the magic, especially with Emmeric in the mix, and most importantly, she didn’t know how to stop it when she needed to.
Iyana paid no attention to where Altair dragged her, until he forced her against a tree, the bark digging into her back. The sharp pain made her gasp. He crowded into her space, lifting her chin with a finger until she looked him in the eyes. He was furious. The angriest she’d ever seen him. Honestly, Iyana deserved his anger. He’d been nothing but patient with her, training her magic which differed from his own, listening to her whine and complain about the thing that wouldn’t come naturally to her.
“What did I say before?” he asked, his voice low and full of malice.
“I’ll practice more,” she said. “Promise. I’ll focus, really start to—” Altair cut off her voice when he wrapped his hand around her throat. It was gentle, without pressure. Iyana could still breathe, but felt as though her ability to even do that much might stop as he stroked the pulse point on her neck with his thumb.
“Not about practicing,” he said. Iyana was confused. If he hadn’t dragged her out here to ream her about the magic, then… “I told you to never look at Emmeric like you wanted to fuck him.” Oh. Oh. His voice lowered even further as he continued those torturous circles on her neck. “A punishment may be warranted.”
“Like what?” she asked, breathless.
Altair hummed, dragging his lips up the side of her face to her ear. “I could think of a few things.” He nipped at the skin behind her ear, trailing the tip of his tongue down her neck.
“Yeah?” Iyana’s heart was beating out of control. That she was able to utter a single word was miraculous.
“Yeah.” Tightening the hand around her throat, he crashed his lips to hers, devouring her. She kissed him back, matching his tongue’s every stroke. Her hands found their way to Altair’s broad shoulders, fisting his shirt to tug him even closer. Iyana felt close to combusting, and she wanted to catch fire.
Then Altair was spinning her around, pushing her breasts against the tree, hand still at her throat. He pulled her face back, kissing her hard again, her peaked nipples rubbing just right against the rough bark. Altair ground into her ass, and she felt he was as excited as she was. She’d wanted this so badly. Keeping his hand wrapped around her neck, he drew her flush with his muscular body. His other hand created a trail of heat as it found its way to her lower abdomen. He toyed with the hem of her breeches. Back and forth, back and forth, not going where she desperately needed him. Iyana thrust her hips forward, trying to get him to move. He chuckled, the sound pulsing through her entire body.
“So eager, my star.”
“Altair, please,” she panted.
“Please what? Use your words, astalle.”
“Please touch me. I need you.” Then his hand finally dipped below her waistband, and softly passed over the bundle of nerves at her core. Iyana gasped, her head falling back onto Altair’s shoulder. His fingers began to move, slowly and lightly at first. More, she needed more. He explored lower, and groaned at the wetness already pooled there.
“So ready for me,” he murmured in her ear, nipping it lightly. Iyana moaned as he pressed one finger into her, then two. Finally moving, filling her the way she’d been craving. His thumb rubbing circles on her center, increasing pressure, then decreasing, driving her to the brink of insanity. All the while, he nipped and kissed his way from her ear down her jaw, his hand still firmly on her throat.
Iyana’s breathing intensified, her stomach clenching. The sensation was too intense, too much. Altair’s thumb increased in pressure on her clit, and his fingers inside of her curled in exactly the right spot. Iyana gripped his forearm, nails digging into his skin. Her lungs forgot how to breathe.
“Come for me, astalle,” he whispered in her ear. She shattered into a million pieces, crying out Altair’s name, her body a shooting star streaking across the sky. Her vision returned to her slowly as she descended back into her body. Spent and satisfied, but ready for so much more. Reaching behind her, she ran her hand up Altair’s hard length, feeling it twitch in her palm. Gods, she wanted him so badly inside her, claiming her.
But he grabbed her wrist, stilling her movements, his hand retreating from her pants. Altair turned her back to face him, putting the fingers which had just been inside her into his mouth. Groaning, he sucked and licked her climax from his fingers. She almost came again from the sight.
“Delicious,” he growled. She reached for the ties of his pants, but again he stopped her.
“Altair,” she panted, needy.
“This is your punishment, astalle. You’ll wait for more.”
“Isn’t that punishing you as well?”
Altair gave her a wicked grin. “Worth it.”