Eleven #2
“Can’t you just compliment me?” I glowered.
I tried to tap into our bond, to find the source of magic he was using to control the vine loitering by his feet, but I couldn’t grasp it.
He seemed to sense me rooting around for it, though, because his grin only deepened, and his eyes sparked with a sense of knowing.
“Nice try.”
An idea bloomed in the back of my brain. I settled into my frustration, letting him think he’d won while quietly searching for another thread of power down our bond. “So, you only let me control that root because you wanted me to.”
I focused on the individual currents twining through the river of gold, and I felt his magic running beneath it all.
Finding the source was a lot like finding the right thread; the longer I centered myself, the longer I focused, the easier it was to find a stream of magic that I could harness.
I pictured it twining around my fingers and gripped tight.
“You have a way to go before you can fully wrest control from me. And even then, it will come down to a matter of will.” He crouched down before me and let his hands loosely dangle about his knees. “And I don’t think you’ll ever be able to shake me of that.”
When he bit his lip to keep from laughing—again—I struck.
Our magic coursing through me, I summoned a root from the depths of the earth and sent it rocketing toward his center.
It erupted from the soil with ease and lassoed him around the torso, yanking him backward until his spine cracked against the thick trunk of a tree.
Then I looped it around his center again. Just for kicks.
Rorik’s eyes were wide as he stared at me.
Slowly I stood and stalked toward him, doing my best to imitate his lopsided grin.
I only wished I had the fangs he did to really sell the look.
When I stopped before him, I pinched his chin and angled it up just like he’d done to me at the beginning of this exercise.
“What was that about willpower?” I asked.
Heat exploded in his gaze, and all at once his glamour was stripped away.
Impossibly deep beetle-black eyes stared at me as twin horns pushed through his locks, right at his hairline.
A golden luster spilled across his skin, and elongated sable nails clicked against the bark of the tree.
His wings were still suppressed behind his glamour, but I had the feeling if he broke free, he’d summon those, too.
He smiled, all fangs and dark intent, and his words were a deadly whisper. “Who captured who?”
My smile slid away. “What?”
The same vine from earlier was on me in a breath, wrapping tight around my thighs, stomach, and just beneath my breasts.
It slid against my skin in an unbreakable binding as it lifted me off the ground and brought me inches from Rorik’s face.
Our breaths intermingled, and my brain stopped functioning entirely.
I could feel him everywhere. Down our bond.
Through his magic seeping from the vines into my skin.
With every ragged skitter of his breath.
My pulse roared in my ears as an unbearable want simmered low in my stomach.
This close, I could smell the delectable fragrance of his magic.
He was oakmoss and bergamot, fresh rain and the hint of pine, the faint undercurrent of a rose right before it fully blooms. He was the very earth that surrounded us, and he’d somehow rooted himself deep within me.
My body needed him. There was no other explanation for the heat that ravaged my senses, for the desire that became so all-consuming I struggled to think.
Gold flashed through the darkened pools of his eyes, and a low, guttural sound simmered from the back of his throat.
I didn’t know what to make of it. All I knew was that sound set fire to every last rational thought I had left, and if he’d commanded that vine to strip me naked and lay me bare, I wouldn’t have fought it one bit.
Images of his broad frame covering mine filled my mind, and I bit the inside of my cheek until I tasted blood to keep any sounds from slipping out.
Rorik shuddered, and I was acutely aware that he could likely sense my desire through the wide-open bond we were currently sharing. I had no ability to build that wall back up. Not like this.
He cursed, and both his vine and my root crumpled to the earth. He pushed away from the tree as I fell to the ground with a thud. The shock of the hit and the scrape of rocks against my already wounded hands chased away the fog clouding my mind, and I steeled myself with a breath.
“Where are you going?” I shouted.
“To cool off. You should do the same,” he said tersely as he walked away.
I was on my feet in seconds and quickly fell in line with his stride. “What the fuck was that?”
He didn’t look at me. “Nothing.”
“That”—I gestured wildly behind me—“was not nothing.”
His lips lifted at the corner, but the action felt stiff. Slowly, his glamour fell back into place. “Not my fault you find my power so seductive.”
“It’s not—” I slammed my mouth shut, because what was I even supposed to say?
That it wasn’t just his power that drove me wild, it was him?
Was that even true? It was so damn hard to even unpack what existed between us, what was a by-product of the magic we now shared and what was real.
I clenched and unclenched my jaw, ignoring the weight of his sidelong glance as we walked farther into the depths of the forest.
I didn’t dare speak again until we finally came to a stop before a rocky outcrop dripping in vines. I gave him a knowing look, and the tension in his frame eased.
“I won’t command them, promise.” He held his hands up, then winced at his own words in mock pain. “Well, I won’t send them after you, at least.” With two fingers, he pointed at the weeping strands of foliage, and they curled upward on themselves to reveal the darkened mouth of a cave. “Come on.”
He started into the open maw of the cavern, but my body had frozen at the sight.
A sudden wave of fear crashed through me, and the sounds of the woods faded as the world narrowed to that quiet opening.
My throat tightened as bile soured the back of my tongue, and a cool sweat began to form at the base of my hairline.
Briar had taken me down into a cave, down into the bowels of a burrow he’d called home. Where I’d been strung up to an ancestor tree and tortured for my magic.
My ability to speak died as the memory of that night played on a loop in my mind.
I could still feel the leathery skin of deceased Evers rubbing along my arms. The bite of their elongated nails as they pierced my skin and dug beneath my muscles and tendons. The uncomfortable writhing and shifting of the tree’s endless limbs as it held me in place.
I couldn’t go back. I wouldn’t.
“Edira.” Rorik’s voice was a rough purr against my ear, and I started in place.
The present sounds of the woods, of the birds trilling away and the murmur of the breeze through leaves, came rushing back along with Rorik’s breath.
His hand had gently clamped around my wrist, but when I met his gaze, I saw nothing but rage.
I didn’t feel it down our bond, which meant he’d been sheltering me from that fathomless emotion of his, but he couldn’t hide it from his eyes.
And I knew. I knew, because I hadn’t had the skill or foresight to shield my emotions in that moment, he’d felt that visceral fear—and realized why I’d gone still at the cave’s entrance.
“We don’t have to go in,” he murmured. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think . . .”
My throat had dried, but I forced a scratchy swallow. “No. I don’t want the fear to control me.”
He considered me for a long moment before relenting with a nod.
“I’ve got you.” He never let go of my hand as he eased us into the cave, and with every step the dread slowly abated.
Rorik had protected me then. He might laugh at my expense or push me through ridiculous exercises and drills, but he’d never hurt me.
Thankfully, we didn’t have to walk far. The rough rocks beneath our feet shifted to a smooth white stone that was slick with moisture, and the walls opened to a large enclosure, complete with a circular pool of crystal clear water.
Stalactites dripped from the ceilings like bony icicles, and pale lichen glowed along the walls in swirling, indecipherable patterns.
They sparked brighter as we passed, casting a faint pale blue glow into the damp air.
Rorik released my hand. “Ready to cool off?”
And then he removed his shirt with one quick yank and tossed it to the side.