Chapter Thirty-Four #2
The wind drifted inside from the open ledge, carrying with it the smell of the sea. Beyond the cave mouth, the kingdoms lay spread, the distant lights of ships moving across the dark water, and the weight of everything waiting for us down there settled between us.
But not yet.
Up here it was just us. And I wanted this moment for a little while longer.
Calroy looked at me the way he had on the ship that first night, like he was reading my face in a way that only he could see. I’d thought he was judging me then. I understand now that he was searching, hoping with everything he had that he’d finally found the one he’d spent years looking for.
“I love you.” He brushed his thumb along my jaw. “More than life itself.”
I closed my eyes for a moment, leaning into his palm. “And I you, my love.”
“There is nothing I wouldn’t do for you. I will do whatever it takes to bring peace into our lives. We’ve been separated too long, my Little Star.”
He lowered his hand and turned toward the flame. “I need to tell you something about Selene.”
I didn’t want to know, but I let him. We had to have an honest start.
He cleared his throat. “I don’t have feelings for her.
” He tossed a stick into the flame and watched it catch.
“She became my anchor when I was losing myself. The searching went on so long—years of ports, faces, and nothing—and I started to unravel. I became irritable, picked fights, drank too much in taverns.” He exhaled.
“She grounded me. Kept me from disappearing into the worst version of myself.” He looked at me then.
“I know how it must have seemed. I’m not proud of it.
But I need you to know it was never what you are to me. ”
The fire crackled between us.
I said nothing for a moment. I believed him. And more than that, I understood. He had been alone for years, carrying what no one around him could see or share. Who was I to judge what kept him standing? I had Jina and Minha. I had Nam. Even in the worst of the cavern, I had never been truly alone.
If someone had kept him from breaking apart in the meantime, I felt grateful.
“Thank you for your honesty,” I said. “You found me.” I took his face in my hands. “That’s the only part that matters.”
No more words were needed. I knew what he meant and he knew what I felt. I leaned closer and kissed him instead.
Our lips met soft and slow. Then I kissed harder, climbing onto him, the fire crackling warm at my back. His hands found the hem of my tunic and pulled it higher, giving me every opportunity to stop him as he lay me down. Then he tugged off my pants.
The cold air hit my skin as the fabric fell away, replaced by his warm hands tracing my shoulders, my waist, the curve of my hips.
“You are stunning, Yeri.” His eyes moved over me with a reverence that had nothing to do with the goddess and everything to do with the new me. “And in every dream I still remember your true face, but you are still the woman I love, just the same.”
I reached for him, my fingers finding the buttons of his pants, undressing him, his wings half open, the firelight catching the dark feathers and turning them bronze at the edges. I spread my palms flat against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath my hands.
Then his mouth found my jaw. The curve of my neck. Collarbone. The soft skin of my stomach. His hands followed where his mouth led, mapping every inch of me with a patience that dismantled my thoughts completely.
Then lower still.
Oh gods.
My back arched off the blanket, pleasure crashing through me in waves.
I gripped his hair, fingers curling tight, hips rocking into his mouth as he took his time.
He licked and tasted and lingered until I was trembling, until the sound that left me echoed off the cave walls and came back to me, ancient and untamed.
“Calroy,” I breathed.
When I caught my breath, he lifted his head and met my eyes, his own dark, the blue of them swallowed by something deeper.
“Was it always like this between us?” I managed.
“Always.” He held my gaze as he settled over me, his weight warm and solid. “Every time.”
I gasped when the fullness of him entered me, his gaze locked on mine, unwavering. He moved unhurried, each slow pull and push building something untamable low in my belly. My hands found his back, fingers spreading across the muscle, feeling every shift and flex as he moved.
His wings spread wider above us both, blocking out the cave mouth and the stars beyond the entrance, blocking out the kingdoms, the battle waiting at the end of tomorrow, until there was nothing in the world but the fire at our backs, the rhythm between us, the sound of our uneven breaths.
A low and deep groan left him and echoed off the rocky walls, filling the cave. Something about hearing him undone—Calroy, god of the sky, who had faced queens, creatures, and lifetimes of waiting—completely undone because of me, sent the pleasure cresting higher than I could hold.
It broke through me all at once, wave after wave, my voice lost somewhere in the cave.
He followed moments after, his forehead dropping to mine, breath ragged, arms trembling with the effort of holding himself above me. For a long moment neither of us moved. Just breathing. Just the crackle of the fire and the wind moving across the ledge outside.
Then he lowered, gathering me against his chest, his wings folding loosely around us both like walls against the cold, a shelter that belonged only to us, here at the top of the world.
We lay, his heartbeat slowing beneath my palm. I traced a line along his forearm, chasing the thought that had been sitting with me since after the land of the dead.
“I only recall pieces of us,” I said. “How you used to fly me to the stars.”
“You loved them.” A ghost of a smile. “Still do, I’d wager.” He looked past me, toward the mouth of the cave where the sky opened wide and endless. “Each time we went up, I made more just for you.”
I blinked. “Made more what?”
“Stars.” He laced his fingers through my hair, his mouth curving. “You’d point at the sky and tell me there wasn’t enough. So I gave you more. Every flight, a few more lights scattered across the dark.”
Something in my chest ached.
He brushed a strand of hair from my face. “You gave me a reason to fill the sky. But I think you loved the stars more than me.” He chuckled, low and warm. “You were always the only one I tried to please.”
“And you took me to see the world.”
“I remember every place.” His eyes didn’t leave mine.
I hesitated, the fire popping softly. “But I don’t remember how we fell in love.”
Calroy kissed my forehead, his eyes gleaming like gemstones. “I fell first.” He sat up but continued to cover our bodies with his wings. “You didn’t trust a god who ruled the sky. You said I cared more for what’s above than anything below me.”
“Sounds accurate.” I snickered.
That earned a low laugh. “So I had to work for your affection. I studied what made you laugh. What made you happy. I learned you before I took the leap to tell you how I felt.”
“And I just fell for you?”
“No.” His hand found mine, thumb grazing slow circles over my skin. “You made me earn every inch. Took longer than I’d like to admit.”
“That sounds like something I would do.” I snorted, searching his face, that old ache sharpening again. “I still don’t understand why the other gods would turn on us.”
His jaw tightened, the firelight catching the shift. “They didn’t like our closeness.”
“Why?” I already knew the answer, but I wanted to hear it from Calroy.
“Jealousy.” He kissed the back of my hand. “And fear. They saw what we could become together. They also feared we’d be rid of them.”
“We wouldn’t.” I moaned when he pulled me against him. I straddled him, my legs on either side of his waist.
He cradled my face. “We are good gods, Yeri. We never wanted their thrones. We only wanted each other.”
“I don’t want to ever forget you,” I murmured into his shoulder, tears pooling my eyes. “Not in this life. Not in any other.”
The wind moved across the summit. Somewhere far below, the sea waited. But Calroy’s wings wrapped around us. For now, we let the world fall away, holding on to each other and never wanting to let go.