Chapter 39 #2
It’s okay, she tried to answer. No matter what happened, it will be okay. I claim you—every shattered, broken piece of you.
Andrian groaned, as if he’d heard her thoughts, a sound so full of pain and longing and desperation that it sent a shiver down Mariah’s spine. When his free hand gripped the other side of her face, when his fingers wound themselves deeper into her hair, the kiss changed.
No longer was he asking. He was taking. And she gave to him willingly.
She opened beneath him as his tongue swept past her lips, as he devoured her like she truly was his last meal. She answered him with teeth and tongue and nails, just as she always had.
Just as she always would.
Wrapped in the taste of him, lost to everything the most simple and raw parts of her cried out so desperately for, she felt it.
It started as a flutter, a weak pulse beneath the thrashing of her heart. It slowly gained strength, like an injured animal finally realizing it was healed. Meekly casting out a glance, then a tentative reach, then a bolder step.
Barely glowing threads unspooled within her, silver and gold shuddering to life. They glinted off opalescent scales, shone within a slitted forest-green eye.
Mariah was shoved back to the present with a gasping breath. She pulled back from Andrian, her chest heaving wildly. She met his blazing tanzanite stare, his cheeks also flushed, something crazed and wild etched onto him.
She knew she looked the same. Still panting and shaking, she felt those threads weaken again and fade, retreating into their darkened hole in the cavity under her ribs, taking the beast with them.
Mariah swallowed, her throat parched. Andrian pressed his forehead to hers, his skin hot, breath coasting across her skin. He opened his mouth, like he was about to say something, to speak the things that were carved so plainly in his eyes—
“Fascinating.”
Reality crashed back in. Mariah blinked, cheeks flooding with heat for an entirely different reason. Andrian slowly—very, very slowly—extricated himself from her. Like it caused him pain to release her. He didn’t let her go, not completely; his hand slid down her arm, fingers lacing with hers.
Matheo whistled. “Talk about a show, folks.”
Andrian whipped his head toward the younger man, already snarling. Matheo put his hands in the air in mock surrender. “Kidding,” he said, though he still wore a grin.
Mariah couldn’t help her soft chuckle. Andrian swung his gaze back to her, pupils still blown wide.
With a deep breath, Mariah turned to Callamus. “What’s fascinating?”
The god didn’t answer right away. He just watched them with a contemplative expression, shaking his head.
“It is nothing I can answer simply,” he finally explained. “And I therefore will not try.”
Mariah frowned. “Incredibly helpful,” she deadpanned.
Signe cackled.
Cal’s lips tilted up. “It is,” he said. “It is helpful…because I think I know how to bring forth your magic. For good, this time.”
That rocked through Mariah. Her fingers tightened around Andrian’s as she swayed slightly on her feet. “Really?”
The god nodded. He rubbed a finger across his jaw, thinking.
“There are places in Leuxrith where the veil between this world and that of the gods is thin. Perhaps the thinnest it is anywhere on the continent. The people here call them the staor. It is why even when our physical bodies slumbered, the people of this kingdom could still communicate with me, should they wish to seek such guidance.”
Mariah nodded slowly. It did explain the strong religious fervor she’d noted in Leuxrith, stronger even than in Onita. She supposed it was also why these people hadn’t been overtly surprised by the arrival of their god bearing the form of a dragon.
Perhaps these people knew more about the gods and their secrets than any other. She tucked that information away, along with a mental note to ask someone if Leuxrith kept formal libraries of any kind. While they were here, they might as well look for what she truly sought.
Callamus continued, “I think visiting one of these places will give your magic what it needs to reemerge. It is clearly there, and responsive”—his gaze slipped to Andrian— “and a visit to the staor may just awaken it for good.”
Mariah’s chest swelled. Finally, some good news. “Great,” she said, straightening her shoulders. “Let’s go now.”
Callamus shook his head, chuckling softly. “No. We cannot go yet.”
Of course, they couldn’t. The god smiled at the annoyance she knew was spreading across her expression.
“It will be best if we wait until shortly after the Summer Solstice. Just as in Onita, there is magic that comes through on that night. It will fuel the staor and allow any journey you make into it more fruitful.”
Mariah swung her gaze to Andrian, eyes wide. Her surprise was reflected in his face.
The Summer Solstice. She’d almost forgotten, even though she’d been watching the moons wax fuller every night. For some reason, the meaning of that had escaped her. So much was different from the last Solstice; so much had changed.
And yet…Andrian’s hand was warm against hers.
They were changed, irrevocably altered, but they were still here. They still stood.
Together.
That had to count for something, didn’t it?
“When is the Solstice?”
Callamus smiled. “Next week. There is a celebration planned. We will leave for the staor the morning after.”
Mariah nodded, looking out over the cliff and the lake below. Dreamed of wings spreading out from her, of leaping off and letting the winds embrace her.
Soon, she promised herself.