14
By the next morning, the storm had finally passed.
Sunlight filtered through the cracks around the wooden door, casting pale light across the dusty floor.
Inside the shelter, the warmth from the fire had dulled to glowing embers, but it was enough.
Kurt didn’t need firelight to feel the heat of Malea’s body curled against his beneath the shared blankets.
He lay still, one arm under her shoulders, the other draped across her waist. Malea breathed softly, her hand resting on his chest. He did his best to memorize the moment. He knew this was special. More special than he’d ever imagined it could be.
He basked in her closeness, the peace in her expression, and the surprising tenderness he felt after everything they’d done to, and with, each other in the night. And yet…something nagged at him.
His gaze drifted toward the door. The storm had been violent and had whipped up far too suddenly.
There should have seen signs long before the storm hit.
Lowering clouds, the wind shifting, or a drop in temperature.
But there had been none of that. Just a swiftly moving wall of ice and snow, bearing down with the fury of something that felt… unnatural.
Kurt shifted slightly, brushing his lips against Malea’s temple.
He sent up a silent prayer to the Mother of All for the virkin and for them all finding this shelter when it was most desperately needed.
He had to go out and see how the horses had fared in the night, but faint sounds from the other side of the fireplace wall were reassuring.
He could easily hear that the horses were still there and moving around a bit.
Malea stirred in his arms, blinking awake. “Morning?” There was uncertainty in her tone as she tried to look around, then her gaze settled on him.
“Just barely,” he murmured, loving the way she looked at him, all soft and sleepy in the dim light. “The storm blew over.”
She sat up slowly, the blanket slipping low over her bare shoulders and giving him a glimpse of the lush breasts beneath. His breath caught at the sight of her like that, with her hair tousled, skin kissed by firelight and sleep. But her eyes, when they met his, were sharp.
“Do you think there was something funny about that storm?”
“Yeah.” He pushed himself upright, reaching for his shirt. “I don’t think it was natural. That wasn’t just a mountain squall. It came on too fast and hit too hard.”
“I agree,” she said quietly. “There was something a little off about it all. As if we triggered a magical defense or something. I’ve heard tales about such things.”
“It was a trap,” Arch’s voice sounded in their minds as he flew down from the rafters where he and Keera had made a small nest for themselves overnight.
Keera followed, landing on the warm hearth. “You’re right in thinking it was a magical defense. We talked it over last night and examined the traces of magic in the wind.”
“I think you triggered a magical ward. Designed to scare you off or bury you in snow,” Arch concurred, nodding his little head
Malea frowned, drawing the blanket around herself as she rose. “You think it was protecting something.”
“We do,” Keera said.
“You suspect a mage is making the big diamonds. If that’s the case—and we think you’re right—then it makes sense that the mage would lay traps on the way to the diamond mine to keep it secret.
There could be layered protections, in fact.
Illusions. Other kinds of defenses. Surveillance spells, even. ”
Malea stood. “So, are we going to run into more trouble as we get closer?”
“No. Not now that we know to look for it. We can shield you. We’re sorry we didn’t before,” Keera said into both of their minds.
“There’s nothing to be sorry for. We knew we were taking on a dangerous mission before we started this journey,” Malea assured the virkin.
“Shield us…how?” Kurt asked, tugging on his boots.
“Magically, of course,” Arch replied, as if it were obvious.
“We can hide your presence from certain kinds of magical detection. We can’t fool every eye, but we can confuse most magical traps with our own superior brand of magic,” Keera told them proudly.
Kurt exchanged a look with Malea, both of them clearly impressed.
Malea shook her head, smiling at the virkin fondly. “You two are far more capable than we realized.”
“Yes, we are very capable,” Keera said with a smug toss of her wings.
Arch puffed out his chest. “And now that we’re shielding you, you should be able to approach much closer without triggering another storm, or whatever else lies in wait for the unwary.”
Kurt smiled slightly. “I guess we’re lucky you insisted on coming with us.”
“Yes,” Arch said. “You are.”
Malea laughed softly and turned toward Kurt. “So, do we keep following the same trail?”
He stepped toward her, reaching out to brush a loose curl behind her ear. “We do. But we keep our guard up. And we trust our friends to keep us hidden magically.”
The virkin both made chirping sounds of agreement.
*
When the last of their supplies had been packed, the fire doused, and the air in the little shack began to feel cold once more, they left their shelter.
Malea adjusted the strap of her satchel as Kurt brought the horses around.
The hearty beasts had both fared well in the lean-to overnight and were ready for action.
Malea was rearranging things in her saddlebag when Kurt approached from behind.
She felt his warmth before he spoke, and her heart fluttered a bit at his nearness.
Her reaction to him was even more intense than it had been before, now that she knew what it felt like to be with him.
Their night together had lit a flame that wouldn’t soon be extinguished.
“Ready?” he asked quietly.
She turned to face him. His hair was slightly mussed, the stubble along his jaw a little thicker this morning.
There was a softness in his eyes that she wasn’t sure she’d seen before.
Even the night before, when he’d touched her like she was the only thing keeping him tethered to the earth, he hadn’t quite looked at her with such depth of affection that it stole her breath.
“I’m ready,” she replied as he stepped closer.
“I just want to say one thing before we set out again,” Kurt said softly, his hand rising to cup her cheek.
“I know we said we’d pretend to be courting for the sake of our mission, as a cover.
But last night changed everything for me.
I’m not pretending, Mally. I really am courting you, and I want you to know that I’m serious about it and didn’t take anything for granted. ”
She blinked up at him, her heart warming at his words. He took a small step closer, brushing his thumb lightly along the curve of her cheek.
“I don’t know when it changed. Maybe when I saw you by that campfire, looking like a woman instead of the girl I remembered. Maybe before that, and I just didn’t let myself feel it. But it’s changed. We’ve changed.”
Malea swallowed hard, her heart thudding. “It’s that way for me too,” she admitted, then started to feel uncharacteristically shy. “So, what happens now?”
“We keep moving. We finish what we started. And when it’s done…” He cupped her cheek, his voice lower, more intimate. “I want to find out where this leads. If you want that too.”
“I do,” she whispered, her voice trembling a bit with the weight of the emotion coursing through her system.
He smiled and leaned in. Their lips met softly at first, but then, the warmth between them flared again. Not with passionate heat this time, but with something deeper. Steadier. Something much more meaningful. It felt like caring and acceptance. It felt wonderful.
At length, he pulled back, his forehead resting lightly against hers.
“Let’s go finish this mission, so we can get back to the good stuff,” he murmured, grinning at her.
She nodded, steadying herself as best she could as she took a step back.
Kissing Kurt always seemed to set her head spinning.
A moment later, they were both mounted, and together, they turned the horses back to the trail they’d been on the day before.
The virkin had already taken to the trees, guiding their path.
With hearts open and purpose burning bright, they began their journey once more.
*
More than an hour later, Kurt adjusted the reins in his hand and cast a glance skyward. The storm had blown itself out overnight, leaving the world blanketed in a crisp, crystalline silence. The sky above was a rare, cloudless, almost peaceful, blue. But beneath that, a pulse of tension remained.
The virkin flew in a lazy arc ahead of them, but Kurt could feel the energy vibrating faintly in the air.
A magic he hadn’t known they possessed now hummed between their little scaled companions, cloaking him and Malea in something he didn’t fully understand.
Magic was something he’d heard about but had rarely experience himself, but he trusted the virkin to keep him and Malea safe from harmful magic.
The virkin moved through the landscape like whispers on the wind, guiding their path and somehow, magically hiding their presence.
Kurt guided his horse up the narrow trail, the snow crunching with shushing sounds beneath its hooves.
Malea rode just behind him, the hood of her cloak pulled up, her expression focused.
He knew she was probably mulling over the same thoughts he was.
Whoever was growing magical diamonds that were being made into blades big enough to kill dragons had access to power neither of them had anticipated.
“We’re close enough now that we can feel where to go by tracing the magic,” Arch said unexpectedly, interrupting Kurt’s introspection.
“I didn’t know that sort of thing was possible,” Kurt said softly to Arch, who was gliding effortlessly nearby.