Chapter 36
ELOWEN
Once we get cleaned up, we get dressed again.
My white priestess robe is still slightly damp and a lot less white than it was, but it’s better than staying naked. I’m afraid of what I might do if I don’t cover up—and from the way Theron’s eyes follow me, I think he feels the same way.
After what he said—about wanting to come inside me, about filling me with his seed—I understand. I’m not the only one who thinks staying naked is too dangerous.
Maybe it’s just the curse, but I didn’t just want him rubbing against me—I wanted him inside me. What we did felt good—amazing, actually—but my body knows it could feel better. It aches for more.
Even though I came so hard, my pussy still feels empty…like something is missing. Like he’s missing. I want more of him…but I know I can’t have him.
I press my thighs together, trying to ignore the lingering throb, but it doesn’t help. It only makes me more aware of the deep, empty ache inside me. Of the need to have my pussy filled and stretched open by something thick and hard thrusting deep inside me.
But I know we can’t do that. If I let Theron take me all the way, he’ll change the color of my eyes and make me instantly pregnant—I can’t have that. Even if the instant pregnancy wasn’t a factor, having green eyes instead of blue would mean I’d never be welcome anywhere again.
A Fae woman with green eyes had better be mated or Bonded—otherwise she’s just loose and unwed—an outcast. And I’m already outcast enough.
But you are loose and unwed, whispers a disapproving voice in my head that sounds a lot like Sister Agatha. Why else would you be spreading your thighs for that huge Drake Shifter? Why else would you be letting him touch you and make you come?
I didn’t mean to, I try to argue with the voice. But the problem is, I did. I did.
I try to tell it I can’t help myself, that it’s the curse—but the guilt still clings to me anyway—stubborn and heavy. I can’t quite shake the feeling that the Goddess is watching me…judging me for my wanton, unchaste actions.
“Hey, little one—you’re awfully quiet over there.”
Theron’s deep, rumbling voice pulls me from my thoughts, and I look up quickly.
“I’m fine,” I assure him, giving him a shy glance. “Just…thinking.”
I wish he wasn’t sitting so far away. Just a little while ago, we were tangled together, skin-to-skin, breathless and desperate—and now he’s on the opposite side of the fire, like there’s an invisible line between us he doesn’t dare to cross.
He’s only wearing his trousers—his boots and shirt are still drying—but even like this, half-dressed, he seems…guarded…contained. Maybe he feels like we almost went too far, too. In the firelight, his curving tattoos seem to writhe and swirl, the shifting shadows making them look almost alive.
“I was thinking,” he says, then stops.
He doesn’t look at me. He’s staring into the fire instead, his jaw tight, like whatever he’s about to say is something he’s not sure he should speak aloud. But I want to hear his thoughts. I find that I want to know everything about him.
Am I falling in love?
The thought comes unbidden, and I push it away at once. There’s no use loving a male I’m only going to forget once I work the Time Weaving spell.
“Thinking about what?” I ask softly, urging him on.
He sighs and runs a hand over his horns.
“I was thinking about what you said at the river,” he says at last. “About how you feel like you don’t belong.”
“Oh…” My cheeks start to get hot with embarrassment. “I just—I had to tell a truth that broke my heart. And I guess that’s always bothered me.”
“Of course it does,” he says quietly. Then, after a moment, more roughly, “I feel the same way myself.”
That surprises me.
“You do? How so?”
“Well…” He exhales slowly, running a hand over his horns again—a meditative gesture.
“I don’t have any parents either. My mentor, Kline, found me wandering the streets when I was just five or six.
Tried to find where I came from, but I couldn’t remember anything.
” He shrugs, but there’s tension in the gesture.
“So he took me in and raised me. But I always wondered what happened to my real parents—where did they go? Why did they leave me? You know…that kind of thing.”
“Oh, Theron…” My heart aches for him. “I didn’t know. I’m so sorry I never asked.”
“Well, we’ve been a little busy trying not to die lately,” he says dryly. “Not much time for personal confessions.”
I can’t help smiling.
“That’s true,” I admit. “It’s good of you to tell me,” I add softly. “I’ve felt so alone my whole life. Being an orphan—or…not even knowing if I am one. Just knowing I don’t have anyone who wants to claim me.”
He nods.
“I used to wonder what I did wrong,” he says, his voice lower now. “What made them leave me.”
“You didn’t do anything wrong,” I say at once. “You said yourself you were only five or six!”
He shrugs, like he doesn’t quite believe that.
“Maybe. Still feels like it’s my fault they left me.”
“I understand,” I whisper, my heart squeezing like a fist in my chest. “I’ve felt that same way—like it’s my fault nobody wants me.”
The distance between us suddenly feels unbearable.
Before I can second-guess myself, I shift closer—just a little at first, then more, moving around the fire until I’m sitting right beside him.
“I’ve felt alone…for so long,” I admit.
“Me too,” he says, and his hand finds mine.
His fingers are warm as they lace through mine, and for a moment everything else fades. He lifts my hand to his lips and presses a soft kiss to my knuckles.
“At least the two of us are alone together—for now,” he murmurs.
My breath catches in my throat, and I lean into him without thinking—just a little. Just enough to feel the solid warmth of him at my side.
I know it’s dangerous—we both do. The curse is still hanging over my head, urging me to do everything I know I shouldn’t. But I can’t help myself—I need to be near him.
Theron lets me stay leaning against him for a moment. Then he lets go of my hand so he can wrap an arm around me instead.
“Cold, baby?” he murmurs.
I nod, even though I’m not.
“Come here, then.”
He pulls me against his side—closer than before, until I’m practically in his lap. My breath stutters as I settle against him, acutely aware of every point of contact between us.
He leans down and presses a kiss to the top of my head.
“Two quests down,” he murmurs. “Two to go.”
“Well…if you don’t count getting into the King’s Court to work the Time Weaving,” I say, trying to focus on something other than the way my body is reacting to his. “That’s a quest all by itself.”
“Not as much as you’d think,” he says, sounding thoughtful. “Once a week, the King allows anyone who wants to come into the palace and air their grievances.”
“He does?” I look up at him in surprise. “Doesn’t he fear to let strange people into his palace?”
“No.” Theron shakes his head. “Because the whole building is woven with the most powerful magical wards possible. Anyone with even a bit of malice in their heart towards the King tries to get in, it sets off an alarm. The guards come and drag them to prison, so the King is always safe.”
“But what if they were mad because he raised their taxes?” I ask, seeing a problem with this at once. “That kind of magic makes it so nobody can express any kind of dissatisfaction with the King’s governance!”
“No, no—it’s only if they’re planning to do him physical harm that the wards go off,” he explains. “It wouldn’t be fair other wise and there’s a reason our King is named ‘Good King James the Just.’”
“I suppose you’re right,” I say and sigh, snuggling even closer to him. “So you’re saying we can just walk right into the King’s Court if we go on the right day?”
He nods.
“Then find a quiet corner to work your spell. I’ve never been to the court, but I hear it’s huge. You should be able to manage.”
As he explains about the King and the wards, I listen—but only half of my mind is really on his words—the other half is on him.
On the way his hand rests on my arm…the way his breathing has gone just a little uneven and the way he suddenly goes very still when I shift against him, even slightly.
He’s holding himself back—I can feel it. Just like I am. We both want to get even closer, but it’s not safe.
“So you’re saying we can just walk right in?” I ask again, trying to get my mind off what my body is asking for.
“If we time it right,” he says.
I nod and sigh, the sound turning into a yawn before I can stop it.
His hand comes up to stroke my hair.
“Poor little priestess,” he murmurs. “Getting sleepy?”
“A little,” I admit.
“Lay down then,” he says.
I hesitate, frowning.
“On you?”
“Yeah. I’ll keep watch.”
This doesn’t seem entirely safe, but I’m too tired to question it.
I shift around, laying my head on his thigh. The moment I settle there, I feel the tension in him again, but he doesn’t move away.
Instead, he starts stroking my hair again, slow and steady.
“But…aren’t you sleepy?” I ask drowsily.
“Not yet,” he says. “You sleep. I’ll watch over you. Big day tomorrow.”
“You mean…we’re going to the Fire Demon tomorrow?” I ask, a little anxious even through the haze of sleep.
“No,” he says firmly, shaking. “Grandfather Tree first. Let’s take things easy for once.”
Relief washes through me. Of all the quests, I’m dreading the Fire Demon the most.
“All right,” I murmur, snuggling a little closer before I can stop myself.
He stills again—just for a moment—then his hand resumes its slow movement through my hair.
“Get some sleep,” he says quietly. “You’re going to need it.”
“I know,” I whisper, already drifting. “But at least the Grandfather Tree has to be easier than the Fire Demon…”
My voice trails off as sleep pulls me under and so I don’t hear his answer.
I have no idea how wrong I am…or what Theron and I will have to do to get the jewel buried beneath the Grandfather Tree…or how much it’s going to change us.