Chapter 47 #2
It was pain, and fear, and terror wrapping itself around every one of her ribs. The closer they galloped toward the training field, the more of a pull she felt.
Sera gasped. Was this what it felt like to burn out? She’d imagined it would be closer to melting, the magic burning you from the inside out, but this felt like heartbreak… terror and rage all mixed into one.
Cresting the hill, a thundercloud of black shadow raged toward them. It rushed past her and the elken, blotting out the sun. As if she and the white beast were a singular rock standing firm against the battering sea.
In the midst of it all was Vasso, sprinting straight for her.
The pull. That thread in her chest gave way to relief, and she sobbed as his white hair flashed among the black of his vatra.
Her mount continued forward, but Vasso rushed past them.
“Vasso!” she screamed. Sera grunted, pulling on the elken’s antlers. The beast bellowed beneath her and slowly came to a stop.
Sera fell to the ground and ran.
They’d kill him. It was too many. He couldn’t survive. Maybe—maybe if she gave him her magic, he could put them down. She reached the top of the hill.
The landscape had changed.
Black shadow expanded deep into the forest. He was stanching her inferno. The vibration of his magic soothing hers was more relief than pleasure.
But the horde stood there. Waiting.
“Vasso,” she whispered between heaving breaths. “There are too many.”
He glanced at her. His eyes blazed red with a promise of death.
“Here, take my magic.” She held out her hand. Tendrils of smoke swept up her back, over her arms, before grazing her cheek. He was soothing her. She leaned into his magic and released a breath. She was safe. “Vasso…”
Vasso unleashed his power.
The horde disintegrated.
Ash fell in mounds. Not one body was left, only ashes swept on a high wind, which carried the remains into the forest, dusting the trees in an unnatural soot.
“The flames in the forest?”
“It’s fine.” Vasso turned to her, taking her hands in his. He turned each one over and kissed the center of them. Sera shivered at the sensation.
“You saved me.”
“No,” he said, releasing her hands. “He saved you.” The elken snorted behind her.
Her raven, back to its regular size, was perched on its highest antler.
“Thank you, old friend. Seraphina, meet the elken king. His kind have lived many years in these woods. I’ve made sure to protect them when he cannot.” Vasso reached over her shoulder and scratched the beast’s chin. “He’s thankful you offered to save him.”
Despite Vasso’s kind words, he held his mouth in a hard line.
“Thank you, Your Majesty.” The elken’s white fur was silken under her fingers. She was careful not to touch the gashes in his chest. “Will he be okay? The parasite—”
“As majestic as they are, they aren’t magical. There is nothing for it to feed off.” Vasso stepped closer, hovering his hand over the gashes. Black mist circled the wound, and when he pulled back, the wound had closed.
The king tousled his head and perked his ears. With a grunt, he cantered into the forest. Her familiar croaked and settled in the grass, pecking at the ground.
“How did you find me?” she asked.
“I felt you.” He rubbed his chest. “I felt your panic—your terror.”
“Is that one of your powers?” Her words were breathy, from the loss of adrenaline or how he looked at her. “Is that part of being a demon lord? You can feel terror?” She had no idea why she asked. Only that she needed the fill the silence between them.
They’d barely said two words to each other since returning to the manor. After the doorway, after those images.
Vasso’s intense stare pierced her, “No, Seraphina. It’s not a demon thing.”
She swallowed at the sound of her name on his lips.
“It’s not a lord thing.” His voice lowered to a husky whisper. “It’s a you thing.”
Her magic coaxed her forward, but she stood her ground. “So, this isn’t normal?” she asked, staring at those full lips.
“Not for me,” he said.
Sera tilted her head to look at him. Her gaze roamed over his perfect face.
He did the same to her.
She was bare to him. He’d had that power over her since the moment she saw him astride Ponic in Crowpass. “Vasso—”
“You need more training if you’re going to be out here alone.”
“That’s all you have to say?”
His shoulders bunched. Ash floated around them in flurries.
“What do you want to hear?” he snarled. “That I would beg, here in the ashes of my wards, on my hands and fucking knees, for your forgiveness, because I didn’t get to you sooner?
That I should have ripped each one of them to pieces before burning them for that scratch on your cheek? That I— No.”
He turned his back on her.
“So your solution is to—what? Rage and be pissy? You’ve already done that!
” She wanted to throttle him. Kill him. She had no idea why, but her chest was burning with rage and…
fear. “Why won’t you talk to me? You’re the only one who understands this, and yet…
and yet you leave me with it, to figure it out. ” She was spinning.
Those future looks from him flashed in her mind. His smile, the way he bit his lip, the stern look lined with a smirk, but then—pallor, death.
“Why have you been so quiet?” she asked.
He marched toward her, his eyes darkening, his lips parting. Vasso tilted her chin higher. She shivered under his touch as his gaze dropped to her lips.
“So I wouldn’t do this.”
For a moment, time stood still.
There was no wind.
No sounds of insects or birds singing.
There was nothing but his lips on hers. His mouth—warm and firm. She whimpered when his tongue asked for permission to taste her.
She let him.
It wasn’t just a kiss. He was all-consuming. Inside and out. Their magic swirled in a chaotic dance around them. Heat pooled between her thighs, and Vasso’s hand traced down her throat, then her side, gripping her waist.
Each inhale had her breasts brushing against his chest. Vasso wrapped her braid around his wrist, pulling in an unhurried tug, deepening his access, his tongue taunting hers.
She breathed him in, sandalwood wrapping her senses. That smell had been burned into her since that day in the market. His taste was divine, but the way he kissed her, slow, deliberate, was a promise of what else he could do.
And she wanted it. She wanted it all.
Sera pushed her hips into his, seeking sweet, sweet friction.
He groaned. The rumble vibrated through her, setting her alight all over again.
This was everything. No other kiss had been this compelling, obsessive, or intoxicating.
It filled her up, wrung her out. That missing piece clicked into place.
It was him.
There was no other way to describe it.
He moved from her mouth, kissing her jaw, running his tongue across the soft skin below her ear.
“Shadow,” she whispered.
He froze, took one step, then two. “I’m sorry…” A pained look crossed his face before he turned toward the manor.
“Vasso?”
He didn’t respond.
“You’re leaving?”
He stilled, fists balled tight, but didn’t face her. “If I don’t walk away right now, I’d make a decision I’d regret.”
Her breath caught in her throat. Magic, dark and pulsing, raged through her veins. How dare he? That kiss was everything. That link snapping tight between them. And Shadow help her, she knew it would never be the same.
There was only his lips.
His scent filling her lungs.
His tongue and teeth and hands pulling her braid.
Vasso was at the manor entrance. She started walking. He watched her with a stern mask in place, and when she got to the center of the training circle, he entered the manor, leaving her alone with nothing but the wind and ash speckling her cheeks.