Chapter 12 #2
Aeolus raised an eyebrow, a glint of possessiveness there. "That sounds concerning, bear. You sure you know what you’re doing?"
Desmond's gaze remained steady. "I've never formed this depth of healing bond before with someone beyond my tribe," he admitted quietly.
"I wouldn't suggest it if I saw any other way to help Adara, but the corruption is spreading too quickly.
But I'm more than willing to make the sacrifice for someone so worthy. "
I could see the conflict in his eyes—the healer's oath to help warring with something more personal, something he was struggling to keep contained.
"Right now, I trust you both," I said, the words feeling foreign on my tongue.
"Which is saying something, considering I've spent lifetimes learning not to trust anyone.
So don't make me regret it, or I'll be very creative about expressing my disappointment.
And unlike most, I've had centuries to perfect the art of vengeance. "
The words surprised me as they left my lips, but I realized they were true. Not blind trust. I wasn't a fool. But enough to take this risk, to allow this moment of vulnerability. A tenuous beginning, but a beginning nonetheless.
I started unlacing my leather vest, painfully aware of both men watching me.
Aeolus made no pretense of looking away, his eyes following the movement of my fingers with undisguised interest. Desmond, more respectful, kept his gaze mostly averted, though I caught his eyes darting to me when he thought I wasn't looking.
My fingers fumbled with the laces under their intense gazes.
"May I?" Aeolus asked, nodding toward the complicated lacing. "You're favoring your right arm."
I hesitated, then nodded, appreciating that he'd asked rather than assumed. "Thanks."
His nimble fingers made quick work of the laces, each brush sending jolts through our connection.
When he reached the final tie, his knuckles grazed my breast—the knowing smirk and satisfaction pulsing through our bond proved it wasn't accidental.
Unlike his usual casual touches, there was something almost reverent in how his fingers lingered, as though our connection had shifted something fundamental in the usually capricious fae.
"I can step outside if you prefer," Desmond offered, his voice rougher than usual.
"No," I said, perhaps too quickly. "I'd rather not advertise this to Ryu.
He's already suspicious enough." I managed a weak smile, though my heart raced in anticipation.
"Besides, I'm keeping my undershirt on," I added with a raised eyebrow.
"I'm not that easy. A girl has to maintain some standards, even when she's been corrupted by magical swamp goo.
Clothes off on the second date, dagger and swordplay on the third. I'm old-fashioned that way."
Aeolus snorted softly, his breath warm against my ear.
"No one would ever accuse you of being easy, Ashwing.
More's the pity. Though I find your standards for corruption quite charming.
Only the finest magical swamp goo for the Elemental Phoenix.
Centuries in the Court, and you're still the most interesting woman I've encountered. "
The vest came off, followed by my outer shirt, leaving me in just a thin cotton undershirt that clung to my skin.
Even in the dim light, I knew they could see the outline of my body beneath the fabric, the way my chest rose and fell with each increasingly shallow breath.
The purple lines of corruption were more visible now, tracing ugly patterns beneath my skin like negative flame-script.
They pulsed with sickly light, writhing like parasitic vines.
Where my natural flame-script created protection, these formed perversions of ancient symbols—runes deliberately crafted to counteract phoenix magic.
Desmond moved behind me, his large hands hovering just above my shoulders. "May I?" The gentle rumble of his voice sent a vibration through me that settled low in my belly.
I nodded, bracing myself for his touch. When his palms finally settled on my skin, I barely suppressed a gasp.
His hands radiated a deep, earthy warmth that immediately began to ease the ache in my muscles, but there was something more—an unexpected intimacy that had nothing to do with healing.
It felt like sinking into a hot spring after a long journey, the tension melting away beneath his careful ministrations.
"The corruption has spread further than I thought," he murmured, his fingers tracing the lines down my arms. The purple patterns seemed to recoil from his touch, like sentient tendrils shrinking from light.
"It's fighting your natural fire, trying to extinguish your essence one spark at a time. I’m beginning to wonder if someone has turned the corruption into a weapon against you. "
The gentle pressure of his thumbs working into the knots at the base of my neck drew an involuntary sigh from my lips.
Aeolus leaned closer, his silver-white hair falling forward as he examined the purple marks.
So close I could feel his breath against my skin, raising goosebumps.
Our proximity sent electric currents dancing between us, the connection humming with heightened awareness.
His scent—wild winter winds and starlight—made my pulse quicken.
"It's almost as if it's trying to establish a foothold," he observed, one finger trailing along a particular line that disappeared beneath my undershirt.
"Like it has a will of its own. I agree with Desmond, at least in spirit.
I think you're especially vulnerable to the blight, but that doesn't make sense, considering you're a phoenix and your kind predate the Great Sundering. "
I shivered, not entirely from the corruption.
Having both men so close created an intimacy I hadn't anticipated.
Desmond's touch was ostensibly healing, yet his breath warmed my neck, his fingers lingering at spots that made my pulse quicken.
The connection with Aeolus made every brush of his fingers feel like deliberate seduction.
"This would work better if..." Desmond hesitated, his hands stilling on my shoulders, thumbs pressed into points that sent pleasure spiraling down my spine.
"If what?" I prompted, my voice embarrassingly breathless.
"If Aeolus could channel his energy through us while I work," he finished. "The combination of earth and air might create a more effective cleansing."
Aeolus raised an eyebrow, a slow smile spreading across his face.
"Interesting proposition, bear," he said, his voice carrying a hint of challenge.
"I don't energetically bond with just anyone.
" His eyes met mine, a depth of meaning in their storm-gray depths.
"But for our phoenix here, I'm willing to make an exception.
After all, if Adara were to fall to the corruption when I could have saved her, no doubt my court would hold me responsible.
I was ordered to bring you back, no matter the cost." His fingers traced a pattern against my skin that felt like a promise in a language only we understood, our connection flaring brighter with each touch.
"What's a little magical bonding between newfound allies? "
This was quite the change of heart from our conversation earlier in the day when Aeolus had warned me about magical bonds. Now that my health was in danger, he was more than willing to cross the line. Or, I had to wonder, was that just a convenient excuse?
I looked between them, sensing an unspoken tension that was equal parts rivalry and something else. Something that made the air in the tent feel suddenly thick, charged with possibilities.
Aeolus shifted position, stretching out behind me on the bedroll.
His chest pressed warm against my back as he pulled me against him, one arm sliding beneath me while the other draped across my waist. I could feel every inch where our bodies connected—the hard planes of his chest, the warmth of his thighs cradling mine.
The contact sent a surge through our connection that made me bite my lip to stifle a gasp.
Unlike his playful touches before, this embrace carried an intensity that transformed our bond into something far more intimate.
Desmond settled before me, his large frame somehow making the space feel both smaller and safer.
As he leaned forward, his palms hovering just above my skin, I caught the scent of earth and pine that seemed to emanate from him.
"Try to relax," he murmured, his honey-colored eyes capturing mine as his hands finally made contact with my skin.
Heat bloomed where he touched me, different from Aeolus's electric current but equally potent—deep, grounding warmth that seemed to sink straight into my bones.
When his thumbs traced the edges of the corruption near my collarbone, I couldn't suppress a soft moan.
The sound made both men freeze momentarily, the tension in the tent suddenly thick enough to cut.
My breath caught as realization hit—after centuries of keeping others at a distance, here I was between two men seeing me at my weakest. Yet instead of panic, warmth spread through my chest. Trust.
"Sorry," I whispered, feeling heat rise to my cheeks.
"Don't apologize," Aeolus breathed against my ear, his lips brushing the sensitive spot just below it. "Your responses help guide the healing."
"At least someone here knows the value of patience," Desmond rumbled, a rare trace of humor in his deep voice. "Not everything requires your fae haste, Stormchaser."
"Says the man who hibernates for months at a time," Aeolus retorted, his hand at my waist sliding higher, fingers splaying just beneath the curve of my breast. "Some pleasures are worth pursuing immediately."