Chapter 3
Aurora
My knees tremble and heat burns my core. I place my palms on the surface of the table, steadying myself. I love when the sexy and playful side of Soren comes out. He’s a welcome distraction from the churning tide of emotions within me.
“Is that so?” I tease. He lights the last candle atop a cupboard near me. I lift myself to sit on top of the table and part my legs slightly while he prowls toward me with the lit candle.
I’m wearing the outfit I’ve grown fond of in this fae realm—dark leggings, thin and soft, and a silk tunic and leather bodice that laces up the front.
Soren is dressed in black leathers and a dark gray tunic that flares open slightly at the top of his chest. Of course, he keeps a dagger strapped to his thigh, and another tucked into his knee-high boots.
He moves closer to me, nudging my knees further apart as he places himself between my thighs. I lean back, gazing up at him. “What did you have in mind, my love?” I ask.
Soren leans in, and the heat of the candle flame brushes against my cheek as he breathes, “You, My Flame.”
My core pulses with heat at his words, and my mind dizzies from his intoxicating scent of the woods with a kiss of jasmine.
He places the candle in a holder on the table beside me, then leans in to kiss me, cupping my face in his large, warm hands. The kiss is deep and passionate, and I moan at the intimacy and the thought of where this is going.
His lips curl into a grin. “Does this please you, love?”
I claw at his back, desperate for more. “Yes.”
He complies, pressing harder into me. I jolt as his thick, hard length presses against my thigh through his pants, and I moan again.
My fingers tangle into his dark hair, and I pull him closer to me.
One of his hands moves from my face to the ties at the top of my bodice.
His deft fingers loosen the knot and, with a slight tug, the garment falls open.
His hand reaches for a breast, my nipples pebbling beneath the thin fabric of my tunic. He groans at my body’s response to his touch. His eyes search mine. “Do you trust me?”
I bite my lip before releasing it. “Of course.”
His hungry eyes roam over my thin tunic and heaving breasts beneath. His fingers curl around the candle beside me, plucking it from its brass holder. My eyes widen. He leans over me, and I watch hot wax plunge down the length of the candle. “If it gets to be too much, tell me, okay?”
I look into his eyes, my mouth slightly agape. I only nod in response while my heart races in anticipation. He kisses me deeply before gently tugging on the back of my neck, guiding me to lie back on the table.
Soren leans over me, one elbow resting near my side. In his other hand, he holds the candle, hovering just over my chest. He kisses me again, and a sudden fleck of heat prickles on my breast through the thin fabric of my tunic. I gasp in response, the sensation surprisingly sensual.
He pulls back to look at me. “Again?”
I nod and squirm beneath him, panting and eager for another shock of heat.
“That’s My Flame,” he purrs before his lips move to my neck.
Another jolt of hot wax dripping onto my barely clothed chest has me moaning, and Soren’s tongue flicks up my neck.
“More,” I pant, desperate to tear off my tunic and experience the scorch of the wax on my bare skin.
As if he can read my mind, Soren sets the candle down for a moment to tug open my tunic, unveiling my heated flesh. He stands, admiring my naked chest. His hands glide along my body, stroking and squeezing my breasts, making me writhe with need.
Gripping the candle once again, Soren looks down at me with darkened eyes. I suddenly think how unfair it is that he can feast his eyes on my naked chest, yet he hasn’t given me the same courtesy. The thought abruptly shatters as hot wax sizzles onto my breasts and trails toward my belly button.
I cry out in response, but before I can speak or move, Soren is there, his lips and tongue kissing and licking over every spot where the wax has cooled on my flesh. He uses his thumb to smear it over my body, rubbing my skin with soft circles while he sucks and licks my breasts.
My hands wrap around the back of his head and my fingers tangle in his hair.
I lose myself in the delicate balance of pain and pleasure.
When the wax cools, another round of heat scorches along my skin, trailing from the base of my neck to my stomach.
As the last bit cools, and I am practically climbing out of my skin with need, Soren’s hands drift to the laces of my leggings, tugging them loose.
He slips them down my thighs and pulls them over the curve of my backside before tossing them on the floor. I lay bare for him on the edge of the dining table.
His own private feast.
His amber eyes glaze over my naked form before he rises, lifting his tunic over his head, revealing his chiseled chest to me.
I rise onto my elbows to get a better view.
His gaze meets mine, and he smirks before dropping his leathers, revealing his impressive, hardened length.
I bite my lip, ready for whatever he has planned.
With a look that threatens to unravel me, Soren steps back between my thighs. His callused hands grip my hips, hauling me closer to him and the edge of the table. His thumb moves to the apex between my thighs and circles over the bundle of nerves, making my back arch.
He smirks before he lowers himself, his lips kissing the wet flesh between my thighs. “Such delicious heat, My Flame,” he breathes against my skin. Then his mouth is on me, moving with intent between my spread legs.
“Oh!” I fall back against the smooth surface of the table, my fingers gripping his hair as he sucks and flicks his tongue over the sensitive flesh.
He takes his time savoring me, moans of satisfaction floating in the air as I move closer and closer to climax.
He slips two fingers into my core while his mouth sucks on the bundle of nerves.
My hips buck, and I plummet over the edge, riding the waves of my release.
He draws it out, keeping me coming until I lay breathless. The energy of my magic pulses within me and light dances along my skin. Soren rises from between my legs, his eyes reflecting the glow of my body. “There’s my beautiful flame.”
I smile bashfully and reach for him, wanting to feel his body next to mine. He complies, leaning in to press his lips to mine. As he does, he pushes into me, and I moan at the intense sensation of his thick length filling me.
Fully seated within me, he pulls back to the edge of the table.
His hands grip my hips tighter, and he thrusts deep into me, making me cry out.
His thumb circles over the sensitive flesh between my thighs as he thrusts into me over and over.
It doesn’t take long before I’m hurtling through another intense climax and I clench around him, forcing him to thrust harder and faster until he finds his own release.
Half delirious, our ragged breaths fill the room. Soren withdraws from me and reaches out a hand to help me up. “Now, you really must eat,” he says, grinning at me.
I look over my shoulder at the dining table slicked with sweat and likely more. “Maybe not here.”
We dress and retreat to the kitchen where I perch upon a wooden stool. I rest my elbows atop the counter as Soren lights a fire on the stove.
He fills a pot of water and sets it over the flame. Before the council meeting, Clara came to the house early to make pasta. I had assumed we were hosting a dinner for the council. I lingered in the kitchen as she worked, watching her mix ingredients from memory and mindfully knead the dough.
Looking at me with glinting eyes, Clara handed me a small knife, instructing me to cut strips of dough.
I swallowed down my fear of messing up dinner and found something incredibly cathartic about it.
We worked in silence for a while, and I relished every time the blade sliced through the soft dough.
Content with my work, Clara left the pasta on the counter to dry, and Soren was now scooping it up, dropping handfuls into the boiling pot on the stove.
“Can I help you with anything?” I ask, grinning at his back, knowing damn well he likes to cook for me and will refuse my help. I can’t say I mind.
He shakes his head, dark locks of his tousled hair dusting the back of his neck. “You know how much I love to serve you.” He looks over his shoulder to flash me his brilliant smile.
How’d I get so lucky?
He is too good to me.
I flash him a mischievous grin. “Yes, sir.”
The muscles in his forearms flex as he fills a slightly smaller pot of water and sets it next to the larger one on the stove.
Soren grabs three tomatoes from a basket on the counter beside me before pulling a knife from the butcher’s block.
I watch him delicately slice Xs into the bottom of each before he grabs three more and repeats it.
While waiting for the other pot to boil, he places his palms on the counter and looks at me. “How are you feeling?”
I lean forward, resting my chin on my palm. “I feel wonderful.”
His head tilts slightly to the side, eyes narrowing. “You know what I mean. With all this talk of battle.”
My chest deflates and the smile fades from my face.
I know what he meant, but I want to live in bliss for just a moment longer.
I’m clinging to it like a life vest lost in a stormy sea.
“I don’t know. All of this is still so new, and I don’t understand my place in it all.
I just wish I knew the outcome. Maybe that would make the uncertainty more tolerable. ”
Soren chuckles and brushes my cheek with his thumb. “If we knew what would happen in life, some of us would never get out of bed.”
I lean into his touch. “I could spend my life in bed with you.”
“And I would gladly die in your arms if that were the case, My Flame. But we can only spend so long in our fantasies before reality comes knocking.”
Sighing again, I study his amber eyes. “I trust you. And Thorn and the others, and the best I can do is show up and do as I’m asked.
It’s a new concept for me. I’m used to being in control of my life and now I don’t know what to do other than rely on what people tell me.
And that makes me anxious.” I chew on my thumbnail.
Soren grabs my hand, pulling it from my teeth. “You won’t be alone. And you need to give yourself more credit. You aren’t helpless. After all, it wasn’t me who turned Isolde into smoldering embers.” He gives me a sly grin before kissing me softly on the lips.
I shudder at the memory of Isolde’s face twisted in pain and rage before she burst into thousands of burning particles. Soren is right. I did that. I have a role to play in this, and I don’t need to wait for anyone to tell me what to do or shield me from our inevitable reality.
I lift my chin. “Then we train. I need to become faster and stronger. And learn what the hell to do with these.” I hold up my hands to him.
A wide smile curves on his rugged face. “That’s My Flame. Though I can tell you exactly what you can do with those magical hands of yours.”
I bite my lip at his heated expression.
Soren finishes cooking our dinner. He takes such pride in caring for me, and I am more than happy to let him. After a lifetime of looking after myself, it’s a welcome feeling to be taken care of. Especially by him.
We eat in the kitchen under candlelight, our hands never more than a finger length away from each other. Taking a sip of red wine, we hear the front door bust open, causing Soren to leap to his feet. He positions himself between me and the doorway.
I suck in a breath before a familiar voice echoes through the house. “Aurora?” Thorn’s typically calm and studious voice has a wavering edge to it, making the hair on my arms rise. Something is wrong.
Soren’s shoulders tighten, and he grips the dagger by his side. In another breath, Thorn strides into the kitchen, wild-eyed and breathing heavily. Footsteps echo behind him down the hall. I peek over Thorn’s shoulder to see Olin and Clara step into the room, their green eyes wide.
I move around Soren’s rigid form. “What’s going on? Is everything okay?”
Soren searches the faces of his friends, but Thorn’s gaze stays on me. “A messenger arrived as we were finishing dinner. A sentry from the Northern Shadows.” His stormy eyes slide from me to Soren.
A low rumble resounds in Soren’s chest. “Who?” he asks through gritted teeth.
“Caelum. The winged sentry,” Thorn replies.
I blink. Who?
Soren’s eyes are brimming with distrust and irritation. “What did he want?”
Thorn draws in a deep breath, returning his gaze to me. “He said another traveler arrived in Silverveil when you did.”
My mind tries to make sense of what he’s saying. “What? Two travelers at once? Has this happened before?” There’s another human here.
Soren’s jaw clenches. “No.”
Thorn straightens, rolling his shoulders. “When they learned of another traveler—you, Aurora—Arc dispatched Isolde. Before her demise, she had reported back to him about you.” Thorn takes a shaky breath while he studies my face. “He said you know the traveler Arc has. It’s your friend, Camryn.”
The air rushes from my lungs, taking my hold on gravity with it.
My legs give out before strong arms wrap around my waist. A wall of muscle and warmth cradles my back, and the familiar scent of wood and jasmine envelops me.
Before I can protest, Soren scoops me into his arms and places me in a chair at the table. Clara moves to my side, running her warm hand along my forehead. The pulse of her magic tickles my skin and a wave of calm washes over me. Through heavy eyelids, I gaze at concerned faces.
Thorn’s stormy grey eyes are the last thing I see before I slip into a tranquil slumber. I try to fight against it—against Clara’s magic that is pulling me beneath the waves of a restful sleep. But I’m tired and her magic is strong.
I speak a silent promise that when I wake, I will fight.
And I will turn the world to ash to get my friend back.