Chapter 23 #2
Fear was written across Edric’s face. He had only begun to heal; he was limping and desperate as he turned and ran from the platform.
The crowd saw their king flee from the shadows.
The goddess was triumphant.
“Now,” she said. “Let me take full control. Let me end him. I can finish this. End the war. Kill Edric before he escapes. All you have to do is let go.”
“And what becomes of me?” I asked.
The question hung in the space between us, between defeat and surrender.
“You become a legend. You become the goddess. Is that not enough?”
“Hanna!” Dare’s voice.
He was in my mind, which was full of shadows. I caught glimpses of him as shadows like smoke floated between us, obscuring him and then revealing him by turn. His gaze was always intent, his face determined as he called for me.
Shadows wrapped around his consciousness, trying to choke him, to expel him, to protect what the goddess had claimed.
“No.” I pushed the shadows away, terrified of what they’d do to him.
The shadows retreated. Reluctantly.
Then Dare was there, right before me. The shadows whipped around us, but I was in his arms.
Dare pressed me up against a cold marble column—had temples grown up in my mind?—his hands braced on either side of my head. He kissed me, rough, desperate, teeth scraping my lower lip. “I’m here, Hanna. I need you. Be mine.”
He slid his hand down, fingers curling around my throat, not to choke, but to anchor, to keep me moored to the shape of myself.
His lips moved against mine as his other hand worked its way beneath my shirt, the calluses of his palm catching on my skin, and it was so startlingly real that it almost undid me.
He pressed his mouth to my ear. “Come back to me, Hanna. Please.”
The word please sounded clumsy on his lips.
His fingers found the edge of my bra, traced the outline of my ribs, then went lower. He cupped me through my trousers, thumb pressing hard enough to make my knees buckle. He knew every part of me, every nerve ending, every trick for getting me to lose myself, and he exploited all of it.
I clawed at his shirt, yanked it up, wanting to feel his skin on mine.
He helped, breaking away long enough to rip the shirt over his head, revealing the body I’d spent so many nights mapping with lips and tongue.
He grabbed my hips, spun me around so my back slammed into the column.
I could feel the cold marble through my thin top, but it only made his heat more unbearable.
“Is this real?”
“What’s between us is real.” When he slid his hand inside my pants, his fingers were rough but deft. He hooked his hand, drawing my slickness out, thumb circling my clit with an unholy patience. The world condensed to the sensation of Dare’s body against mine.
“Fuck,” I muttered, unable to muster anything more articulate.
He grinned, wicked and wild, and sank to his knees. He hauled my trousers and underwear down in a single, desperate motion, then pressed his mouth to me, tongue flattening against my clit. I let my head thump back against the column and threaded my fingers into his hair, holding on for dear life.
He licked and sucked and teased until I was shaking, legs on the verge of collapse.
“I’m not leaving without you.” His lips found mine again, warm from my skin.
I reached down, fumbled with his trousers, the urge to have him inside me burning through the shadows. He helped, shoving his pants down far enough to free himself, then lifted me up, my thighs bracketing his hips.
He entered me with a single, punishing thrust. The feeling was overwhelming, but I took all of him, clutching his shoulders, my nails leaving marks.
He fucked me hard against the column, each slam of his hips threatening to crack the marble.
I wrapped my legs around his waist, digging in, pulling him deeper.
He kept one hand on my jaw, thumb pressing into my cheek, the other wrapped tight around my ass, fingers biting bruises into my skin.
Every movement, every sound, every look was a reminder of who I was, who we were.
The goddess’s grip started to slip, and I felt the world brighten at the edges, as if we were tunneling up from deep earth.
Dare groaned, burying his face in my neck. “I love you. I love you, Hanna.”
I came then, spasming around him, biting his shoulder. The pleasure was blinding, total, a white-out blizzard.
He followed, coming with a roar that echoed through the hall. For a moment, everything was still: two bodies fused, breathless, shaking. Then the world snapped back into focus.
The shadows were gone.
I snapped back to my body. To falling. To chaos and violence and then Dare’s arms closing around me.
He held me cradled in his arms. His face was bloodied, his eyes bright with relief. “Hanna?”
“I’m here,” I gasped. I kept one hand anchored on the back of his neck, on his skin and his body, and turned to look at what had become of our world.
Across the square, Edric was gone. The crowds were milling, fleeing for the exits.
The mages’ bodies were scattered and broken across the platform.
Alys and Coril had escaped. I could see them riding away, our fighters protecting their retreat.
Kaelan stood at the center where the crowd had been, reeling, then turned and walked back toward us.
A lone surviving archer rose at the ramparts, but one of our fights in the crowd threw his hood back and fired his own crossbow, and the archer fell back.
Kaelan shifted then, turning into the dragon, and flew.
We’d won.
For now.
Edric lived. The war continued. But we’d saved Alys and Coril. Proven Kaelan could resist his father’s power. Shown the crowd that their king would bleed and run from us.
“We need to move,” Thorne said, appearing beside us. “Now. Before Edric regroups.”
We shifted and rose above the crowd, watching our people escape, ready to rain fire and ice down on anyone who tried to disrupt our fighters’ return. Until they were gone, and it was time for us to leave the ruins behind for now.