Chapter 24 Araphi
Araphi
When Araphi pushes the door, the cabin is unlocked—the first piece of good luck they’ve had since Kingfisher, it seems.
Snow flies in behind them, coming faster now. Once they’re both inside, Araphi wrestles the cabin door shut against the wind. “I can’t believe you found this place,” she mutters, latching a humble but sturdy wooden lock. “Well done, Ranger.”
“It was nothing,” Sage murmurs.
“It was definitely not nothing.”
Sage begins to protest, but stops suddenly as she lists against Araphi, her lean body shivering.
Araphi pulls her closer, taking as much of the weight off Sage’s injured leg as she can.
Another gust of wind rattles the door as the storm howls like an angry beast prowling around the cabin.
Snow and ice batter the windows; it might bury them by morning.
But at least they have a roof over their heads and a place to sleep tonight. And they’re together.
So very, entirely together.
Araphi lets out a long, slow, shaky breath. Gods, is she nervous to be alone with Sage after all they’ve been through? After nearly dying twice tonight?
Yes, they’ve been together…but that was before Araphi realized she might love Sage. Before Sage dove into the Swallow to save her. Before Araphi could admit that she only wants a future with Sage in it.
Not that such a future is possible, but that’s not a problem for tonight.
“Well, we’re out of the wind at least,” Araphi says cheerfully, forcing her voice not to betray her nerves.
Slowly, her eyes adjust to the dark interior of the cabin.
In the patchy moonlight peeking through the windows between the storm clouds, she can make out a small, rustic space.
All exposed boards, a modest hearth with two armchairs in front of it, a wooden table with a few chairs, and a bed.
Who does it belong to? Will they be returning soon? What would they do if they found two strangers in their cabin?
None of these are problems for tonight either.
“Let’s see if we can find some matches or blankets,” Sage says, her teeth still chattering violently. “If we’re lucky, we’ll be able to start a fire.”
“We’ll simply have to huddle together for warmth if not.”
Sage’s laugh is wicked but laced with pain and exhaustion. “Steady, Bard. I’m in no shape.” Letting go of Araphi, she stumbles forward, landing hard in the armchair by the fire. “Perhaps I’ll just stay here for a few moments,” she says then sighs, closing her eyes.
Her moon-painted profile steals Araphi’s breath. Araphi can’t help herself. She bends down to plant a kiss on the ranger’s forehead. As soon as her lips graze Sage’s skin, a tall candle roars to life on the mantel with a dramatic whoosh.
“What the devils?” Sage’s eyes fly open. She sits upright, nearly bumping noses with Araphi. “Did you light that candle?”
“I did not.”
Sage grips the arms of the chair, her mouth a thin line, her body watchful and ready for a fight. “Is there someone else here with us?”
Araphi follows Sage’s gaze around the room, but there’s no one else in the cabin. Just shadows flickering in the candlelight. But something tingles within her. Something that feels like a song, or like standing inside the pocket dimension.
Magic.
As sure as she knows how to play her lute, Araphi knows that this cabin is laced with magic.
“Let me try something,” Araphi says. She places a hand on Sage’s chest over her sodden shirt and gently pushes her backward in the chair.
For once, the ranger relents.
Beginning at the soft skin below Sage’s ear, Araphi trails a line of kisses down her jawline. Sage sighs happily, and three more candles ignite on the mantel.
“I think it’s working. Stay still.”
“What’s working?”
Araphi kisses the side of Sage’s mouth, then threads her fingers through her hair. Gently, so perilously gently, she tilts Sage’s head back.
“You’re stunning, you know,” she whispers against Sage’s mouth.
The amber depths of Sage’s eyes glow golden in the candlelight.
She leans forward, catching Araphi’s bottom lip between her teeth and tugging gently.
Araphi lets out a delighted laugh and leans into the kiss.
As she does so, a fire blazes to life in the hearth.
Orange light spills across the cabin, painting it in soft colors.
Warmth follows the light—most welcome since their clothes are still wet from the river and the snowstorm.
Sage lets out a little gasp, breaking the kiss. “What the devils did you do, Bard?”
“It’s a spell,” Araphi whispers. “I can’t be sure, but perhaps some kind of homecoming spell. I did hear about those at Auximia, but I’ve never seen one in action.”
“What does it do?”
“It can turn a deserted or derelict place into a welcoming one when triggered, and I think it wants us to keep kissing.”
Sage lifts one eyebrow but then shrugs. “By all means. Ravish me—carefully, mind you—if the magic demands it.”
Heat flares in Araphi’s belly, warmer than the fire. “If I must. For the sake of our survival, of course.”
“Of course.”
Careful of Sage’s injury, Araphi kneels between Sage’s legs and captures the ranger’s mouth with her own.
This kiss is long, lingering, and it causes a series of candles to light up on the table.
They illuminate the thick quilt on the bed, a green enameled soup pot on the stove on one side of the cabin, and a small pantry.
“I think the magic liked that,” Sage whispers against Araphi’s lips. “Keep going.”
Araphi’s hand moves along Sage’s uninjured leg and slips under her shirt. As her fingers graze Sage’s skin, a long groan leaves Sage’s lips.
“Bard, I’m too injured to do much for you tonight.”
“I assure you, I’m very much able to handle things for both of us on my own. Let’s get you out of these wet clothes and into bed.”
With the next kiss, golden candlelight flickers across a large, claw-footed bathtub behind a screen she’d missed in her first assessment of the cabin. Steaming water pours from a tap and flower petals float on the surface of the tub.
“Oh, Ranger,” Araphi whispers against Sage’s mouth. “I think the magic wants us to have a bath together.”
“Happily,” Sage says, her voice laced with desire. “Though you might have to help me.”
“Happily,” Araphi echoes.
She stands up and takes Sage’s hand. Sage’s body crashes gently into Araphi’s.
“I’ve got you,” Araphi murmurs as she slides under Sage’s arm, helping her toward the tub one pained step at a time.
Sage leans against the edge of the tub. “You know, I’ve never been great at letting others help me, Bard. But I’m willing for you to undress me.”
Heat flares between Araphi’s legs. “Where should I start?”
Sage grins. “Boots off first, please, then my coat and shirt.”
Araphi obliges, carefully removing Sage’s boots and socks.
She pulls Sage’s shirt over her head, exposing the contours of her stomach and the long scar across her midsection for which Sage has never offered an explanation and Araphi wouldn’t dare press.
Words catch in her throat. She wants to write a ballad for this woman, something stormy and lovely and dangerous.
But she can think of music later. For now, she whispers a kiss along Sage’s collarbone and then slips her hands around Sage’s back to undo her bindings.
“Now, your turn, Bard. It’s only fair.”
With a smirk, Araphi takes off her dress and riding pants.
Then, her chemise and corset, and her socks and boots, so she’s completely naked except for the lemon-scented charm around her neck.
Warmth engulfs her from the fire and the tub’s steam, neither of them as blazing as the look in Sage’s eyes.
Araphi kisses Sage again, gently letting their chests, their breasts, touch, and then she skims her hands along the ranger’s sculpted hips. With careful fingers she undoes the laces on Sage’s breeches, and then she slides them and Sage’s undergarments to the floor.
The magic likes this very much, and a small cupboard to the side of the shower opens, revealing two dressing gowns and thick towels.
“If we keep this going, this cabin is going to make us dinner, I do believe,” Sage murmurs.
Almost as if it’s listening, there’s a noise from the kitchen and a flame ignites under the soup pot.
Araphi meets Sage’s gaze and they both start laughing.
“Are we supposed to do anything about that?” Araphi raises one eyebrow. “I’ve never made soup in my life.”
“I say we trust the magic knows what it’s doing, and we keep doing what we’re doing.” Sage shifts awkwardly on the edge of the tub, and her eyebrows draw together in pain.
“I’ll help you,” Araphi says, easing Sage into the bath. “I know you’re hurting, so we can go very slowly, or not do anything at all. We just have to keep kissing, I think, so the magic keeps working.”
Sage lets out a long sigh as she settles into the hot water. “I’ve had much worse, believe me. Now, please, get in the tub too. It’s glorious. Like the hot springs, but even better.”
“I’m not sure there’s room in there for both of us.”
“There definitely is.”
“I don’t want to hurt your leg.”
“You can sit behind me. This will work, trust me.”
Almost as if agreeing with Sage, the magic lights another candle on a table near the edge of the tub, its glow revealing a bar of soap and washcloth she could swear weren’t there before.
Who is Araphi to argue with the magic or Sage?
Especially when she’s shivering and the thought of wrapping her body around Sage’s makes her mouth water with desire.
Grabbing the soap and washcloth, she slides gently into the tub behind Sage.
“Are you sure you’re comfortable?” she asks.
“Mmmmmm,” Sage murmurs. Her head falls back against Araphi’s chest. “I’m wonderful. You?”
“It’s far better than I expected.” She wraps her arms around Sage, loving the heat and weight of the ranger’s body against her own. Araphi’s heart pounds against her ribs, and lower down, she can feel the ache of wanting shiver between her legs.