Chapter 10
Ashtine
If this was a dream, she did not wish to wake.
Not only because it was the first truly restful sleep she could remember in years, but because she was surrounded by the scent of the sea.
The winds were there. She could feel them gently flowing around her, but they waited.
All her life, the winds had spoken when they wished.
Now they waited until they were summoned.
A give and take. A balance. A peace she had desired for months. Years. Decades, if truth be told.
Ashtine took a deep breath, curling more into the male beside her and soaking in these last moments of calm. She wasn’t fool enough to think this could continue, but she was wise enough to take the reprieve while she could.
Opening her eyes, she found Briar propped on several pillows, one arm behind his head.
His other arm was curled around her, fingers making a light sweeping motion along her waist and hip.
If he knew she was awake, he didn’t reveal it, and she took the time to truly study him.
His pale, blonde hair was such a stark contrast to his dark skin.
It reached his shoulders and made his icy blue eyes stand out even more.
He appeared completely relaxed as calloused fingers continued their same path.
Had he simply … lain here this entire time?
Glancing at a window, she found the light of a dying day.
The sun was nearly set. Someone, she assumed it had been Noelle, had been in the room and lit candles and sconces and tended to the fire.
There was fresh water on the bedside table, along with a plate of dried meat and cheese, although the food appeared untouched.
He had to know she was awake. Fae could sense the smallest shift in breathing, and in the silence of the room, he could detect a change in heart rate, but neither of them spoke.
Was that normal when waking next to someone?
She wouldn’t know. This was a new experience.
While she had been intimate with males before, it had been only that.
She had never woken next to one. Never spent an entire night with someone.
She’d never actually slept next to another in her centuries of life.
How odd to still experience new things even after over two hundred years of living.
Minutes passed. Briar’s fingers never ceased their movement, and she was nearly lulled back to sleep until a burst of flames appeared next to Briar’s head. He sighed, pulling the message from the fire and scanning it. Then he tossed it aside, propping his arm beneath his head once more.
“You must go,” Ashtine said, loosening her grip where her fingers were still curled into his tunic.
“It can wait,” Briar answered, shifting onto his side. He propped his head on his fist, staring down at her. “How do you fare?”
“My wellbeing need not be your concern.”
“And yet it is,” he countered. “Ashtine, what happened?”
“That question is too broad, and I find it confusing to answer.”
He nodded in understanding, contemplating his words before he spoke again. “What drove you to the courtyard today?”
“The winds are unrelenting,” she answered, rolling away from him and onto her back. “Is this common practice?”
When he didn’t answer right away, she glanced at him, finding his brow pinched in confusion. It was an expression she was far too used to.
“You do not need to supply an answer,” she added, turning away and trying to find the resolve to get out of the bed. She knew this stolen peace would shatter the moment her feet touched the floor. But fingers were gripping her chin, gently turning her back to face him.
“Do not dismiss me, Ashtine,” Briar said, the words somehow both gentle and commanding all at once. “I simply need a moment to discern what you are saying and how to respond.”
“I understand I am—”
“I swear to the gods, if you say you are vexing, I will become upset,” he interrupted, and the temperature in the room dipped. “I am learning how to speak with you, but you must give me the chance to do so. I do not become impatient with you. I request the same courtesy.”
Ashtine’s eyes narrowed. “You are impatient at this very moment.”
“Impatience and displeasure are different.”
“You do not need to spend time learning how to communicate with me.”
“You misunderstand me,” Briar said, leaning imperceptibly closer. “I want to learn how to speak with you.”
“Why?”
He huffed a small laugh. “I can see I was not clear when I kissed you weeks ago. I want to learn everything there is to know about you, my dear. If you are amenable to that, please clarify what you were referring to when you asked if this was common practice.”
Ashtine was silent, mulling over his words before saying, “I find you both intriguing and perplexing, Briar Drayce.”
“And I only find you captivating, Ashtine Evermorn,” he replied, his thumb brushing along her bottom lip. “Now tell me.”
She nodded once, gathering her thoughts. “I simply wonder if it is common practice to wake next to someone and have a conversation.”
“That depends.”
She rolled towards him once again because no one had taken the time to learn how to speak with her, let alone try to explain social expectations to her. It was just understood she would be the Wind Princess with her head in the clouds and whispered nuances in her ears.
“What are the qualifiers for such an interaction?”
“It is quite common to ask of another’s wellbeing, but in this case, I am a friend who is worried after finding you in such a state earlier today,” he answered.
She nodded slowly, processing that. “So if we were not friends, the interaction would have been different?”
“If we were not friends, it would have been inappropriate for me to sit in a bed next to you while you slept,” he replied. “Then again, it was likely inappropriate either way.”
“Because of our titles,” she said in understanding.
“Fuck our titles, Ashtine,” he replied. “When it is just us, I care little of our titles. It was inappropriate because while you slept I let my mind wander to what it would be like if I could steal kisses and touches without worry.”
“It breaks laws of old,” she whispered.
“But to answer your question,” he went on, ignoring her comment. “If that were us, I would have still asked how you were faring when you woke. Then I would have kissed you until we were both breathless.”
“That would never happen. I have magic of wind and air,” she answered.
He huffed a laugh. “Then my lips would have likely strayed away from yours. Ideally, I would already be wearing little clothing, and you would be in the same state.”
“Your thoughts wandered too far,” she admonished.
He caught some strands of her hair, winding them around a finger. “You wish to stick with conversation then?”
“I …” She watched him for a moment, seeing his lips twitch. Her eyes narrowed. “You are teasing me again.”
“I would never, my dear.”
“You are a liar, Briar Drayce.”
“Perhaps,” he conceded, releasing her hair, before rolling to his back and stretching.
“But I …” she started, pausing when he turned to look at her again.
“You can speak plainly with me, Ashtine. Always.”
“I know. I simply … I enjoy this,” she said. “I did not think I would.”
He smiled softly. “As do I.”
“I think I would enjoy the intimacy as well.”
His blue eyes seemed to darken. “We could put the theory to the test?”
“That would be unwise,” she replied, but her eyes darted to his mouth anyway.
He moved fast, and she let out a small gasp as he rolled, hovering over her. “I tell you I have spent the last hours thinking of what it would be like to taste you again, and you tell me that?”
His voice was a sensual purr that she felt in her soul, making her toes curl in a way she’d never experienced. Was this what such intimacies were supposed to be like? She truly didn’t know, but gods, did she want to find out.
“Tell me not to kiss you, Ashtine,” he murmured, his face so close to hers they were sharing breath.
“Why would I say that if it is what I wish for?” she replied, her features scrunching in confusion.
“By the gods,” he muttered right before his mouth landed on hers.
His lips moved, insistent and demanding, but she didn’t care.
Everyone was always so gentle with her. Sharp canines nipped at her lower lip, and another gasp slipped from her.
Briar used the moment to slip his tongue into her mouth, tangling with her own.
And she wanted more, just like the last time they’d kissed.
Her hands looped around his neck, fingers twining into his hair.
He was still propped up on one arm, but his other hand was roaming.
Rough fingertips traced her jaw, her throat, her collarbone.
She was the one shoving at the blankets, giving him room to explore further, but his hand slid back up and cupped her jaw.
She was about to protest until he broke the kiss and his mouth followed the same path his hand had.
Down her throat, her collarbone, and her magic was restless, seeking out more as much as she was.
“I was wrong,” she said, and Briar paused, lifting his head to look at her in question. “I did not think I could be breathless, but I am.”
He laughed, a real one, before he kissed her again, this time rolling to his back and taking her with him.
Another laugh sounded, but this was her own.
She sat up, staring down at Briar beneath her.
Her knees were on either side of his hips, her gown bunched up.
His hands were on her thighs, and he was watching her in wonder.
Not the curious air of bewilderment, but as if he were truly enamored by what he saw.
“I do not laugh often,” Ashtine said, more to herself than to him.
“It is a beautiful sound,” he answered, a hand skimming up her side and down her arm, where he interlaced their fingers. “You are still rather pale.”
“I am fair-skinned.”