Chapter 21 #2
With her in my arms, I froze, unable to draw in a breath through my tightening throat. “You said you love me.” It came out raw and hoarse while my heart crashed against the confines of its cage, desperate to get out. “You said you love me, Lolli,” I repeated, my voice frail with hope and fear.
She drew back enough to look at me. Her eyes shone in a translucent white as if every feeling inside her had risen to the surface at once. The glimmer wasn’t one emotion but dozens. Grief and fear and longing threaded together like a fractured beacon that summoned me.
But what struck me, what fisted hard around my chest, was the tremor of hope buried there. Fragile and trembling but real.
“I did say that,” she said, her gaze on me although her voice wavered. “I do . . .” With a forced swallow, she tilted her chin up. “Love you, I mean.”
The world tilted, a beautiful shift I felt in my chest. My heart, already raw from too many open wounds, broke open for a completely different reason. Before I could stop myself, I closed the distance and kissed her. Desperate and ravenous, pouring every unanswered prayer and plea into the kiss.
Against my mouth, she let out a breath that was half laugh and the other part sob. But then she kissed me back. Just as desperate and wrecked. Her fingers curled against my skin, her mouth moving with mine like she’d been starved for this too.
For years, I’d imagined a million ways she might one day say those words. None of them came close to this. Her voice unsteady, her body trembling, but her lips telling me the truth with every frantic kiss.
She loves me.
I devoured her, my hand framing her jaw, sliding to her neck. She arched into me, pressing closer, and something inside me flared. It came so suddenly, so fiercely, I nearly broke the kiss.
It wasn’t magic. The island was stripped of it. But still our soul-mate bond surged. More than a pulse, but a burn, a tether pulling tight between us until it was all I felt in my chest. As if reminding us that no barrier, no absence of magic could sever what tied us together.
“I love you,” I rasped against her lips. The words ripped from me between frantic kisses.
She answered with a broken whimper, and under the water she ground against me, rubbing her body against mine. Heat shot straight through me.
“I want more.” It came out as a whimpered plea.
I didn’t hesitate. I caught her mouth one more time, hard and hungry, before I pulled back to breathe. Then I guided us to shore, lifting her from the pond with her legs wrapped tight around my waist.
I laid her on the grass, letting the jungle and the sound of frogs and rushing water work as our symphony.
She looked up at me, hair wet and clinging to her face, chest rising and falling fast. Gods, she was beautiful.
I kissed her again, slower this time. My mouth trailed down her throat, tasting the droplets of water that clung to her skin. My hand ran over her thighs, tracing my fingers over her hip as I settled between her. I rubbed my hardened cock over her, and she gasped.
Her lips were swollen from our kiss, and I wanted to swallow every sound, every shiver. But more than that, I wanted to give. To show her what it meant to be wanted, to be worshipped. To be loved by me.
“Brent,” she whispered, and the way my name cracked against her lips made me groan.
I kissed lower, down her chest to her stomach, savoring every inch until I reached her underwear.
She shifted to pull them down and widened her trembling legs.
I placed a kiss there before parting her with my tongue.
Her sharp intake of breath was the most beautiful sound I’d ever heard.
My breath fractured, the edges of my control fraying.
But I held on for her, not wanting to take more than she was ready to give.
I licked slowly, unhurried, drinking in the way her body arched, the way her hands fisted in the grass.
I wanted to map her, learn her, build her pleasure until she shattered on my mouth.
My fingers slid into her core, curling while my mouth drew circles around her mound. Her thighs quaked against my shoulders.
She gasped my name again, a broken cry that made me groan against her. Her taste wrecked me. Every sound, every quiver fed my desire to worship her. To make her forget everything else. I forced my breath to steady, but my heart pulsed with every sound she made.
Her hips quivered as I pressed deeper, my hand and mouth working in unison until her breath came in ragged pants. The bond flared, her emotions crashing into me. Need, desperation, surrender. Until I couldn’t tell if the pounding in my chest was hers or mine.
Her body arched off the ground, a cry tearing from her lips as her climax rolled through her. I held her through it, my mouth and fingers coaxing every last tremor, every last cry, until she collapsed, boneless and stunning.
I pressed a final kiss against her trembling thigh before lifting my head. Her eyes shone white and bright, shimmering with more than just her release. With trust. With the bond that tethered us, pulsing fierce and eternal.
And I knew, I’d never stop chasing that look.
I imagined my magic clinging to her skin in thin wisps of smoke, languid and draping over her like it had no intention of letting her go.
I gathered her in my arms and carried her to the pond, going in slowly so the cool water didn’t startle her.
She murmured my name, nuzzling her face against my throat while I lowered us into the shallow water.
I cleaned her with careful hands. Every touch now meant to bring her back down.
She kissed my throat, running her nose along it in a way that both tempted and soothed.
After I laid us back on the grass, she turned to me, her eyes a dull white that didn’t suit her. I cupped her chin, trailing my fingers across her cheek.
“What is it?” I asked. “Did I hurt you?”
“No.” She held my hand against her before she dropped it away. “I think . . .” Her voice was quiet, almost ashamed. “I think I want to surrender my magic to Zaicha.”
The words sliced through me, but I held my breath and waited.
She swallowed, her gaze dropping to the grass between us. “I like how this feels. Right now, without any magic. It’s quiet and peaceful, and I don’t have to worry.”
Where she felt peace, I felt an emptiness where my magic should be.
I forced my voice to steady, careful as I smoothed a thumb over her hand.
“Lolli, I need you to hear me, okay? What if Zaicha is the same daughter of the gods that Alastor mentioned? What if she’s the one who forged the Orb of Sacrifice?
What if she’s using you? What if she’s the one who used you as a conduit to kill the dragons?
” I tried for each word to come out soft, but I knew I failed when she flinched away from me.
Her eyes flashed with hurt. “No. You saw it yourself, Brent. She’s helped me.
She understands me and my magic. How can you say she’s using me when she gave me a choice?
I don’t have to relinquish my magic to her, but I want to.
Can’t you understand that?” Her words seemed to bleed from her chest, an open wound that had never sealed. “Can you trust me?”
“I do trust you.” I dropped my forehead to hers. “Always.” I inched away, cupping her cheek so she looked at me. “But I’m asking you to be open to the possibility that she’s behind this. That she might not be the friend that you believe her to be.”
Silence stretched, broken only by the chirping of those tiny jungle frogs. She worried her lip before her attention darted away.
“I trust her, Brent.” The words barely made it past her lips. They were so thin, so fragile.
Her shoulders drew in, and she wouldn’t look at me as she curled her fingers into tight fists, trying to grip something that wasn’t within her grasp.
“She sees me.” They came out as barely a sound. Not only a smaller version of her voice, but a smaller version of her.
Guilt slammed into me. I’d watched her storm through fires, but this single doubt from me had her shrinking like she expected the world to take from her again.
I hated it. Hated that I’d caused that.
But fear coiled tight inside me. Not only the potential of Zaicha, but the hold she already had on Finley. The way Finley spoke the goddess’s name like it was a lifeline rather than a warning.
I drew in an unsteady breath, not wanting to be the reason she withdrew even an inch but needing her to see this. Really see it. Not through awe or hope. “At the cliff . . .” The words scraped across my throat.
Her head snapped up, her eyes sharp with hurt and anger. I almost stopped. Almost told her none of it mattered. Almost let her keep that fragile spark of belief untouched. But I couldn’t. Losing her to a lie could mean losing her entirely.
“Lolli . . .” Her name left me on a plea.
Her expression flickered, pain and defiance tangling together.
“I’m not trying to take hope from you,” I said.
Tears welled in her pretty silver eyes, and I trailed a trembling hand across her cheek in a featherlight touch, afraid she’d flinch away. She didn’t, but her breath broke.
“She wouldn’t do that to me,” she whispered, her voice strong despite the break.
“You didn’t feel her magic when she helped me.
You don’t—” She lifted her chin, that stubborn, unbreakable spark igniting even as her bottom lip shook.
“At the cliff . . .” Her voice faltered.
She swallowed, her gaze drifting past me to the memory.
“My magic felt like it was being torn from me.” Her eyes drifted past me, to the memory.
“It happened after I told you I might want to keep my magic.”
I didn’t move or speak. Just let her think. Process. Let her see it on her own.
Her brows knit together. “But that doesn’t mean—” She shook her head. “No. That doesn’t mean she caused it.” She dragged in a breath, her eyes flicking across my face. “It can’t be her, Brenton.” The words rushed out faster, desperate to be true. “It can’t.”
Her attention stayed on me, waiting. I couldn’t give her what she wanted. Her expression faltered as my silence stretched between us. Her breath quickened as if she could outrun the thoughts slamming in her head.
“She can strip my magic from me.” She held a hand to her stomach. “Why would she come to me, offer to help me, give me a choice in something she could simply take?”
“Maybe she isn’t strong enough to take it all at once,” I said. “Maybe it’s easier to absorb if the magic is offered instead of stolen. I don’t know, Finley. I don’t know, but we’ll figure this out together. Who knows? Maybe I’m wrong.”
Her bottom lip trembled. “I don’t think you’re wrong. I think I was too desperate to want someone who understands my magic, too stupid to see her for who she is.”
“There’s nothing wrong or stupid with wanting to be understood,” I said, my voice gentle while my hand roamed over her arm. “We all want someone who understands us.”
“I didn’t realize it before, but you’re that person for me,” she said, her eyes slowly shifting back to their natural color.
“You may not understand my magic, but you understand me. You know how to take care of me in ways I didn’t know I needed.
You see me, Squishy, and you’ve never feared or cowered to me. ”
“While you are fierce, you’re still my Lolli,” I said.
As I hoped, my words coaxed the smallest smile on her face. It wasn’t much, and I wanted more. So I dug into my bag until my fingers brushed against the stash of lollipops Everly had given me.
When I pulled one free, the bright red wrapper gleamed in the sunlight. I knew that shade well. It was her favorite.
Her eyes widened, her whole body perking up as she sat. “Is that a lollipop?”
Since she was little, she loved them. It was one of the few, small treats her parents could afford. She used to carry them everywhere, her pockets always bulging with sugar and color.
Her fingers drummed excitedly on her leg, the heaviness of today momentarily forgotten.
I tore through its wrapper and held it out to her, grinning when she leaned closer. “A lollipop for my Lolli.”
Her laugh broke free, and she twirled the lollipop between her fingers before she popped it in her mouth.
I couldn’t stop staring at the way she hollowed her cheeks while she sucked the candy. She noticed, and her lips curled slyly around the thin stick.
“Don’t look at me like that,” she teased, her voice suddenly husky.
I grinned. “Can’t help it.”
She pulled out the lollipop with an exaggerated pop. Her gaze darted to my pack, and before I could stop her, she started digging through it. “What other flavors do you have in here?”
“The rest are terrible,” I told her, tone serious. “None that you would like.”
She lifted the stash, holding it against her chest as her smile grew in victory. “I have like a whole two-day supply here.”
“Two days?” I barked out a laugh at the forty-nine lollipops she’d claimed. “That should last you at least three days.”
She rolled her eyes at me as she unwrapped a blue one. I held her wrist and guided her hand to my mouth. Without breaking her gaze, I slid the candy between my lips. Sweetness burst on my tongue, but it was the way her eyes widened that held me captive.
“You thief,” she said, both breathless and amused.
“Me?” I laughed with the candy still in my mouth. “You’re the one who took my whole stash.”
Her eyes narrowed, and she angled her chin up in challenge. “A stash you got for me.”
“Well, I’m not about to start denying the obvious.”
We lingered long after the sun dropped before we hiked back to our camp. Finley licked at the green candy, the third lollipop she’d slipped in her mouth, while her fingers brushed mine with every few steps.
Heaviness started to creep back in, and when I clasped my hand around hers, she held on just as tight.
“I think we should see if Callan can bring Alastor here,” she said, voice low and strained. “If Zaicha is who you think she is, if she was the one to forge the orb and is after my magic, we need him.”
“Yeah.” I pushed the single word out. “You’re right.”
Her eyes flickered to me before she lifted her lollipop, her lips stained in different colors, and tapped it against my arm. “Do you want to taste this one?”
I pressed my lips to hers, stealing a quick kiss and the sugar on her lips. “Mmm, I just did.”
Her laughter followed us the rest of the way back to camp, a marvelous light against the weight we carried. Shining in a world that was threatening to darken.