Chapter 39
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
AIRIK
The next day, Nora rushed ahead of Airik as they walked toward the city. He, hypnotized by her hair swinging like a pendulum, let her.
His finger absently traced back and forth along his lips, still buzzing from the kisses the night before.
She’d tasted him. Had him. And worse, he’d tasted her and now knew nothing in existence could ever compare to her.
Nora tasted of salt and berries. Sweetness he’d never craved but now starved for.
She tasted of broken oaths and a future he would never have but couldn’t imagine living without.
He’d spilled into his trousers. Like a youth on the cusp of manhood. His precious human had grinded on him, her hot cunt against him, as if he were nothing but an idol built for her pleasure. How could his body refuse her call?
For the briefest of moments, as she’d kissed him, it had felt as if the ground he walked upon didn’t shake. As if something—someone—had caught him and held him safe and still.
When he’d gone to the river to wash away the spill, he’d found her desire mingled with his.
Like an animal who could not reason beyond instinct, he’d licked it from the fabric, leaving not a single sweet drop for the river to have.
Sucking traces of her into his body, he could not understand the torment and relief taking hold of him.
It settled in his chest like an extra organ, taking precedence over all else.
Only the thought of her alone in the dark woods, frightened and confused, had snapped him out of delirium and brought him back.
And then Nora had gotten up at dawn and apologized again. Told him that what they’d shared had been a mistake. I don’t want you to get hurt, she had said, as if that were an acceptable reason. You should forget it happened. I won’t do it again.
By Ulliel’s grace, Airik wanted her to do it again. He wanted her. To be around her. To be inside her. To go as deep as she’d allow. To build the rest of his life around hers.
And then a moment later, his sword would swing—too heavy on the harness he’d loosened to accommodate Nora’s hands—snuffing the possibility of that life.
Madness. Thick and hot. Irresistible and consuming. He’d die here. Either from having her or from not.
The tips of Buriji’s spires pierced the horizon. Once he used one of the distress beacons housed in the city, it would only be hours before extraction came.
And Nora was rushing toward it.
“Stop,” Airik called out, panic setting in that he might’ve already had his last taste of her without knowing it.
“No—we’re almost there.”
Lucky, supporting Nora’s arm with his tail because she would not take Airik’s arm again, turned to him, his eyes wide with alarm.
Airik’s jaw twinged as her feet fell with uneven thuds. “I said stop.”
She stumbled. Lucky jumped, keeping her upright. With a dejected sigh, she said, “But we’re wasting time—you said we’d die here. That we need to find the call box.”
The rationality of her words struck him like a needle through his heart, and a surge of annoyance and disgrace flooded him. He clutched the hilt of his sword until it trembled with all he could not give her. “The call box is not what I want right now.”
Nora shook off Lucky’s tail, attempting to move faster. Distraught, the ooshi jumped between the two of them, frantic and purring, not knowing which of them to comfort first.
“Well, it should be.” She limped faster as Airik caught up to her. “You need to call for help so the Veynari will save us, and I can…become theirs. And you’ll…move on, I guess. Keep doing whatever a morazir does—being a hero.” Her voice was tragically composed—serene, even.
The last frayed cord of his patience snapped. Airik tugged on her hair, forcing her to stop. She spun to him, face red and her eyes misty.
“I told you to stop calling me that word.”
Her lips drew into a tight line. “Fine.”
The afternoon sun fell across her face, lighting her eyes. How he ached to drown in them so all of this would stop.
Resolve hardened Nora’s features as she pulled away. Torn between want and reality, Airik let her go.