Chapter 17
Chapter seventeen
The scent of roasting meat drifted through the air, mingling with the tang of spiced wine and the sweat of too many bodies pressed together. Laughter spilled from every direction with sudden bursts of children darting through the dancers, their footsteps slapping against cool stone.
Rynna let the sounds pull her under, let them blur.
Kaelith’s arms slid around her waist, anchoring her to him as they danced to the pulse of the drums.
Am I dreaming, Kae? Her thoughts brushed his mind.
“I can’t believe it’s already been two years since the attack.” She leaned into him, letting the weight of her body settle onto his chest.
“I wish they’d let me petition Ember Reach for protection.” His chin settled on her shoulder. Then his tongue flicked out, forked and sinuous, tracing the dip beneath her collarbone.
Air caught in her throat as heat pooled molten between her thighs despite the tension behind his words.
“We both know those fanatics will return,” he continued, voice buzzing against her skin.
How the man could make tactical paranoia sound like foreplay…
She was already wet—slick and aching—from nothing but his words and the monster's tongue he hadn’t even bothered to hide.
Her mouth parted, but no sound came.
There’s nothing we can do, she spoke silently instead as she eased them back a step, steadying herself more than dodging the child barreling past.
His anxiety had been worrying at the edges for months, made worse by Mira’s stubborn refusal. No outside help. The Hearth would stand alone.
She tilted her head, catching the edge of his ear between her teeth. We may be family, but we’re still outsiders.
She felt the thick line of him through both their clothes, and the needy clench it triggered had her thighs pressing together, desperate for friction.
“Naughty girl.” His tongue moved again, lower this time, sweeping lower, circling her nipple until it peaked against the light silk shirt she’d worn. “It’s like you want me to bend you over one of these wine barrels.” He murmured against her ear. “And fuck you right here in front of everyone.”
“Would they even notice?” Her voice was half a growl as she spun to face him, one thigh lifting to curl around his waist, drawing them flush.
Kaelith’s eyes widened a fraction before his hands dropped to her ass, gripping hard as he hoisted her up in one smooth, hungry motion.
Wrapping both legs around his waist, she locked them in place as he caught her there—arms flexing, rolling her hips, grinding the firm ridge of his cock up between her thighs.
“Home.” He turned without breaking hold and strode toward the nearest rope ladder. “I’m taking you home.”
Laughing into his neck, she teased his pulse with her tongue, drawing more interesting noises from the man as he paused at the base of the rope ladder, gaze flicking up.
His arms stayed clamped beneath her thighs, and her heels dug in tighter. Neither moved.
“Please tell me you're not about to try that with her attached,” came Mira’s voice, deadpan and much too close.
Rynna flinched. Kaelith didn’t.
“Sorry to interrupt whatever…feral mating ritual this is,” Mira added, stepping into view with a single brow arched, “but you’re two feet from the wine barrels, and the kids are starting to point.”
“We were just leaving,” Kaelith said, already turning again—this time with purpose. “And they’ve seen worse.”
“Perhaps.” Mira snorted, but the sound lacked conviction. Her arms folded across her chest, and for a moment, she stared into the crowd beyond them. “But…” Her mouth worked around the words before she shook her head. “You know what, never mind. You two look busy.”
Something in Rynna cooled.
“What is it, Mira?” Her hands slid down to Kaelith’s shoulders, and with a reluctant shift, she unhooked her legs and let her feet touch the ground.
Rynna, Kaelith panted in her mind, his frustration hot across the link.
“No, it’s fine,” Mira said, waving them off without quite meeting Rynna’s eyes. “You both deserve to celebrate this night as much as anyone.”
She turned to go, but Rynna caught the edge of her sleeve. Beside her, Kaelith exhaled hard and adjusted himself with barely concealed irritation.
“How can we help?” Rynna asked.
The other woman hesitated. “I can’t find Ben.”
“Again?” Kaelith rumbled.
It was the third time that month the kid had vanished, and ever since the attack, every disappearance made Mira spiral.
“We’ll find him.” Rynna smoothed down her shirt, already falling into motion. “He’s probably back at that cave he found last week.”
“Or the waterfall.” Kaelith sighed, running a hand down his face. “You take the cave, I’ll take the waterfall?”
Rynna nodded once. “Done.”
Above them, fire burst across the sky—gold and crimson catching in the dark, briefly forming the wingspan of a giant bird before scattering into sparks. All three looked up.
And when Mira finally lowered her chin, her eyes shimmered in the light. “Thank you,” she said, swallowing hard. Then her spine straightened as she drew herself back together. “Thank you.”
“Of course.” Rynna turned toward the ladder and grabbed hold of the first rung, lifting herself off the ground. “We’ll have him back before you serve the sweet cakes.”
The ropes creaked as she climbed, feet finding rhythm easily. Behind her, the ladder jerked slightly as Kaelith started after her.
Don’t think this is over, Rynna, he purred across the link. You’re getting punished. Thoroughly. For practically mounting me in public and then assigning us another child retrieval mission.
She smirked but didn’t slow down. He was definitely watching her ass.
Branches scraped at her arms as she pushed through another thick wall of brush. A low grumble escaped her throat in both annoyance and worry.
“Ben!” she called, voice carrying through the dense trees. “You here, squirt? It’s almost time for sweet cakes.”
No answer.
But then—
A low, guttural sound echoed from deeper in the trees. It wasn’t a growl, or quite a roar, but it made her blood freeze in her veins.
“What the hell was that?” She picked up speed, boots crunching dead leaves, branches slapping at her face as the forest thickened.
Then—
“Guide Rynna!!” the boy yelled, high and panicked.
She ran. No hesitation. The world blurred around her.
The clearing broke open like a wound in the trees, and she took it all in at once—Ben, crumpled on the ground and crying, his small body turned in on itself. And directly over him, a massive black bear rose onto its hind legs, shoulders hulking, jaws bared.
Behind the boy, a smaller pair of cubs mewled from a nearby cave.
“Oh, fuck.”
Ben had stumbled between a mother and her cubs. The kid was dead.
She swallowed hard. Would the Weaving allow it? The final war hadn’t even started yet.
Didn’t matter.
She closed her eyes, focused her Will—
—and space warped.
One heartbeat, she stood twenty feet away. Next, she was crouched over Ben, her arms shielding his body.
She blinked again, and they were both back at the edge of the trees where she'd started. The boy trembled against her chest, fists tangled in her shirt, hiccupping between sobs.
Holy shit, she thought, arms hugging around him. He’d have been dead if I’d arrived five seconds later.
“You’re okay, squirt.” She rubbed his back as the bear turned, snarling.
It was still pissed, and still too close.
“Go on home, kid.” She set him gently on his feet. “I’ll make sure the bear doesn’t follow.”
She knew if they ran together, it would chase them.
“Please don’t leave me.” He wiped at his eyes and reached for the hem of her shirt, fingers clutching.
“You’ll be fine, Ben.” She pried his fingers loose with careful hands and pivoted to face the bear, rising to her full height, staring down the creature.
“Your mom’s worried,” she added without looking back. “And the sweet cakes are almost ready.”
“S-Sweet cakes?” he squeaked.
“That’s what I said. Now, get on home. I’ll be fine.”
Behind her, she heard the first hesitant steps. Then faster. Leaves crunching, twigs breaking. He was running now. Good.
She didn’t exhale until the sound of him had faded completely. Only then did her shoulders loosen the tiniest bit.
“We good?” She looked at the bear, who answered by baring its teeth in a snarl.
So that was a no.
“I’ll make sure he stays away from your younglings,” she coaxed.
Whether or not the bear understood the words didn’t matter; she hoped the tone carried.
The animal stared at her for a long moment, massive chest rising and falling as it weighed her presence. Then, with a heavy huff, it dropped down onto all fours and turned away, lumbering back toward the cave, where the quiet mewling of its cubs echoed between the stone.
As soon as it was out of sight, a sharp laugh burst from Rynna’s lips.
“Friggin bears,” she muttered, flexing her fingers as blood rushed back into them.
And, with a careless lift of her shoulders, she looked back toward the trail that would return her to the village. But before she took a step, her pace stalled. Licking her lips, she paused, then let a slow grin stretch across her mouth. He was at least a mile off, but if she aimed it right…
Come find me in the boulder field, snake.
She hurled the thought across the link like a dare, wrapped in heat and challenge.
A beat passed.
Then she felt it—his small start of surprise. A shift. And a heartbeat later, the deep, low chuckle that bloomed in the back of her mind like smoke curling over hot coals.
Rynna turned to look upslope, eyes scanning the jagged rise of stone, already mapping her path.
Muscles coiled. Breath stilled.
Then—
It began with a tug.
Small. Barely more than a change in gravity, like the ground had sighed beneath her feet. Rynna paused mid-step, one hand braced on a moss-slick boulder, lungs catching as the air stirred around her.
No. Not now.
The wind turned harder, whirling leaves into a spiral that danced around her ankles. Her fingers scraped against the stone. Another tug—this time stronger. Her balance tipped and her heart pounded against her ribs.
No.
She staggered back a step, and it hit her all at once.
The Weaving was calling her. It was happening again. It was happening now.
The next pull yanked at her chest like a hook had sunk in deep behind her sternum. She doubled over, gasping, legs trembling beneath her.
Kaelith.
Panic spiked through her. The celebration. His hands on her. His voice in her mind.
He didn’t know.
He wouldn’t know.
She reached for him across the link. Kaelith—Kaelith, I—
A wall hit her, solid and final, the growing vortex sealing off the bond with the force of a slammed door. Her thoughts went nowhere.
She screamed anyway.
His name. A sob. A broken sound ripped from her throat, carried off on the wind.
The air surged, spinning around her in a violent funnel. Her hair whipped into her face. Her skin stretched across her bones as invisible hands began tearing at her, molecule by molecule.
It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. The final war hadn’t even started. She should’ve stayed—would have stayed if she hadn’t…
A moan caught in her throat.
She’d touched it. Two years ago. That bright, forbidden sliver of power. It had only been for a moment when she’d thought he was going to die.
She’d hoped the Weaving had forgiven her. Or forgotten.
Rynna collapsed to her knees, fingers digging into the dirt, but her hands no longer felt solid. Whatever task she’d needed to do here at the Hearth was done, and now, it was taking everything back.
One finger lifted, dissolving into ash. Then another. And another.
She watched them go, too stunned to scream again.
Her thoughts scrambled.
His voice. His scent. The way he said her name. The first time he touched her.
Each memory shuddered in her mind—then vanished, like a wick snuffed out.
Please. Not him. Let me keep him. Just him.
But the Weaving was erasing everything. Just like it always did.
She bent forward, arms wrapped around her ribs as if she could hold the memories inside by force.
They slipped through her anyway.
She howled. Shaking. Desperate.
I love you.
The words she’d never been able to say.
I’m sorry.
The words she’d never get to say.
The funnel roared, and her legs began to unravel, bones fragmenting into dust as they lifted from the ground.
Goodbye.
One last heartbeat.
Her mouth parted—she swore she could still taste him.
Then her teeth, her tongue, her voice were gone.
And she was nothing.