Chapter 9 Torin #2
Her hand slides between us, fingers wrapping around me, and I swear under my breath.
“Is that okay?” she asks, eyes flicking to my face, suddenly shy.
“More than okay.” I press my mouth to her jaw, trying to keep from losing my mind. “You can touch me anywhere.”
Her grip tightens experimentally. I groan, throat fluttering at the reflex. Her eyes darken at the sound.
“Like that?” she whispers.
“Like that,” I breathe. “And if you do it again I’m going to lose the ability to form sentences.”
She laughs—a soft, bright sound—and then her expression turns intent. She strokes me again, slower this time, and my hips jerk. My gills flare in helpless response.
Lightning flickers along her arm. Water ripples across my skin. The bond hums, pleased.
I catch her wrist gently, not stopping her—just steadying. “I want you first.”
Her breath catches. “Torin—”
“I need to taste you,” I say, and the words come out like a vow.
She stares at me, eyes wide, then nods once. “Okay.”
I slide down her body, kissing a path over her stomach, the dip of her navel, the soft skin between her hipbones. Her fingers tangle in my hair as if she doesn’t know what to do with them.
“You can hold on,” I murmur against her skin. “You can push me away. You can tell me to stop. You can tell me to keep going. Whatever you need.”
“Just... don’t stop,” she whispers, voice already breaking.
My pulse spikes.
I spread her thighs with reverent hands and settle between them. Heat radiates off her. She’s wet, slick with need, and the first press of my mouth to her makes her cry out.
Lightning cracks against the stone ceiling. My water magic rises instinctively, cooling the air around us so the sparks don’t burn. A storm contained in a current.
I lick her slowly, tasting her fully, learning her. She tastes like the first breath after drowning. Like rain on hot stone. Like everything I’ve been too afraid to want.
Zara’s hips lift, seeking more, and I follow, keeping my mouth on her, tongue sliding over her, circling the sensitive bundle at the top that makes her whole body jolt.
“Torin,” she gasps, and her hands clamp in my hair.
“That’s it,” I murmur, the vibration of my voice making her shudder. “Let me feel you.”
She tries to answer but it comes out as a broken sound. Her lightning arcs, painting my shoulders in gold. I hold her steady with one hand on her hip and slide two fingers into her with the other, slow at first, letting her body take me in inch by inch.
She’s tight. Hot. So ready it makes me ache.
Her eyes go wide and she stares down at me like she can’t believe this is real.
“Okay?” I ask, even as my tongue keeps moving.
“Yes,” she chokes. “Yes—gods—yes.”
I curl my fingers inside her, finding the spot that makes her gasp and clamp around me. I keep that pressure, rocking my hand in a rhythm that matches my mouth.
Her body starts to shake.
“You’re doing so good,” I tell her. “I can feel you.”
The bond thrums, feeding her pleasure back into me until I’m half-dizzy with it. It’s like touching lightning and not only surviving—thriving.
Zara’s thighs tighten around my head. Her breath goes ragged, broken. “I’m close.”
“Let go,” I order softly. “I’ve got you.”
Something in her snaps—trust, fear, whatever last piece she was holding back—and she comes with a cry that echoes off the stone. Lightning bursts from her skin in a brilliant wave; my water magic surges to meet it, wrapping us in cool mist, turning the shock into pure sensation.
Her climax hits me through the bond like a tidal wave. Pleasure, joy, relief so intense it hurts. I groan against her, drinking her down, riding the tremors with my mouth until she goes boneless.
When I finally lift my head, her face is flushed, eyes glazed, mouth parted as she drags in air.
She looks wrecked.
Beautiful.
“Torin,” she whispers, dazed. “I—”
“You did that,” I say, kissing her inner thigh. “You. Not the bond.”
A shaky laugh breaks out of her. “Liar.”
“Not a lie.” I crawl back up her body, kissing my way to her mouth. She tastes like herself—wild and warm and storm-charged.
Her hands find me again immediately, greedy now, confidence returning with a vengeance. She strokes me, and the sound I make is not dignified.
Her smile turns wicked. “Tell me what you want.”
My throat tightens. “You.”
“That’s not specific.”
I huff a laugh into her shoulder. “I want you to touch me like that again. And then I want to be inside you. And I want you to tell me you still choose me when I do.”
Her expression softens, heat and tenderness braided together. “Always.”
She slides down my body before I can stop her, wing brushing the stone. I start to protest—the floor is cold, she’s still healing—but she shakes her head, eyes bright.
“Let me,” she says.
I swallow hard and let her.
Her mouth closes around me, warm and wet, and my vision blacks out. I grip the stone on either side of her, fighting the instinct to move too fast, to take too much.
Zara hums as she tastes me, curious and unafraid. Her tongue flicks, learning. Her hand strokes the base of me in time with her mouth, and the combined sensation makes my gills flare so hard it’s embarrassing.
She pulls back just enough to look up at me, lashes damp. “Like that?”
I laugh breathlessly. “Exactly like that.”
She takes me again, deeper, and I swear I see stars. Lightning crackles along her shoulders, responding to her own excitement. My water magic slips over her skin, a cool caress that makes her shiver.
The bond pulses, urging, wanting the final step.
I reach down, sliding my fingers into her hair. Not forcing. Just holding. “Zara.”
She releases me with a soft pop, mouth glossy. “What?”
“I’m not going to last if you keep doing that.”
She smiles, triumphant. “Good.”
I catch her chin, make her look at me. “Still sure?”
Her gaze doesn’t waver. “I’ve never been more sure of anything.”
The words undo me all over again.
I guide her back onto the warmed stone, careful of her wing and shoulder. She opens to me immediately, thighs spreading, inviting.
I position myself between her legs, the head of my cock slicking through her wetness. She inhales sharply, lightning skittering over her ribs.
I pause. “Tell me to come to you.”
“Come to me,” she whispers, voice shaking. Then, louder, like she’s daring the world: “Torin, I want you.”
My control fractures.
I push inside her slowly, inch by inch, giving her time to feel me, to take me. She’s tight around me even after her release, heat gripping me like a fist. Her eyes flutter shut and her mouth falls open on a silent gasp.
“So full,” she breathes.
I shudder, forehead dropping to her shoulder. “You’re perfect.”
She laughs softly, breathless. “That’s not the word diplomats use.”
“It’s the only word I have.”
I pull back slightly, watching her face as I slide into her again, deeper this time. Her hands grip my back, nails digging into my skin. Lightning dances between us, crawling up my arms, kissing my scales.
My water magic answers, a cool surge that flows through my veins and into hers, soothing the sting, making the stretch turn into pleasure.
“Tell me if you need me to slow down,” I manage.
“Don’t you dare,” she pants, and then her mouth finds mine and the kiss steals the last of my restraint.
I move.
Not fast at first—steady, building—letting us find the rhythm together. Each thrust makes her gasp, makes the bond flare brighter. Her hips meet mine, greedy now, taking what she wants without apology.
We fit. Like storm and sea. Like the impossible becoming inevitable.
Her fingers find my gills again, stroking lightly, and I nearly come on the spot.
“Zara,” I warn, voice breaking.
She smiles against my mouth. “That’s what you like?”
“That’s what makes me fall apart,” I admit, and the honesty makes her eyes soften.
“Good,” she whispers. “I want you to fall apart with me.”
I brace my hand under her thigh, lifting her, changing the angle. The next thrust hits something inside her that makes her cry out, lightning exploding in a bright halo.
“There,” she gasps. “There—don’t stop.”
I don’t.
I drive into her, the sound of skin meeting skin echoing in the grotto, mingling with her ragged breath and my broken groans. The moss-light flickers with every pulse of magic, turning the cave into a living thing around us.
The bond is everywhere—in my blood, in hers, in the space between our mouths when we break a kiss to breathe. It feeds her pleasure into me and mine into her until it’s impossible to tell where she ends and I begin.
“Torin,” she moans, my name a plea, a command.
“I’ve got you,” I swear, kissing her throat, her jaw, her lips. “I’ve got you. I’ve got you.”
Her hands clutch my shoulders, lightning spilling out in patterns that crawl over my scales. My water magic surges to meet it, weaving through the electricity instead of fighting it, turning it into a deep, steady heat that settles in my bones.
The pressure builds—in her, in me, in the bond itself—spiraling tighter with every thrust.
“I’m close,” she gasps.
“So am I.” My voice fractures. “Look at me.”
Her eyes open, and the raw trust there nearly stops my heart.
“You choose me,” I demand, needing to hear it as the world tilts.
“I choose you,” she cries, hips snapping up to meet mine. “I choose you. I choose you.”
The bond flares like dawn.
Zara shatters again, body going rigid beneath me, a sharp cry tearing from her throat as her orgasm rolls through her in waves. The bond carries it to me like a shockwave, pleasure so intense I lose the ability to think.
I follow her over the edge with a groan that feels torn from my soul, coming hard inside her as the bond locks into place.
Not painfully. Not violently. With a final, inevitable click of something ancient and true.
Golden light floods my veins. Blue iridescence threads through my scales. Zara’s lightning softens, lacing itself through my water like it was always meant to live there.
Our magic—our bodies—our hearts—becoming so intertwined that separation would tear us both apart.
I’m marked by her now. Permanently. Irrevocably.
And she’s marked by me.
We are bonded. Claimed. Complete.
I collapse beside her, breathing hard, my heart racing. The bond has settled into something warm and peaceful—satisfied in a way it’s never been before. Like it’s been waiting for this moment since the first time our eyes met.
Zara turns to face me, and the wonder in her expression mirrors what I’m feeling. “That was—”
“Yeah.” I can’t find words. Don’t need to. The bond tells her everything.
She traces patterns on my chest, following the golden veins where her lightning has permanently marked my scales. “You’re glowing.”
“So are you.” I touch her wing, and the feathers are deeper now—storm-gray with iridescent blue edges. Changed by me the way I’ve been changed by her. “We’re different.”
“Better?”
“Different.” I pull her closer, needing the contact. Needing to feel her solid and real against me. “But yes. Better.”
She’s quiet for a moment, her fingers continuing their gentle exploration. Then: “No regrets?”
“None.” And I mean it. Whatever I’ve lost—position, purpose, the person I was before—I’ve gained something infinitely more valuable. Her. Us. This connection that makes me feel alive in ways the deep never could.
She shifts to rest her head on my shoulder, and I wrap my arms around her, holding her close. The bond hums contentedly between us, no longer fighting, no longer afraid. Just existing in this perfect moment where nothing else matters.
“What happens now?” she asks softly.
I don’t have an answer. Don’t know what tomorrow brings. Don’t know how we’ll face Caspian, the High Elder, the consequences of what we’ve done. Don’t know how to be both Deep Runner and Sky-dweller’s mate. Don’t know who I’m becoming or if I’ll recognize myself when the transformation is complete.
But for once, not knowing doesn’t terrify me.
I pull her closer, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Now we rest. Tomorrow we’ll face whatever comes. But tonight—” I tighten my hold on her. “Tonight we’re just us.”
She sighs contentedly, her body relaxing against mine. “Just us,” she echoes. “I like the sound of that.”
So do I. More than I ever thought possible.
The moss-light flickers. Outside, water continues its eternal movement through stone channels. And we lie tangled together in a dry grotto, two impossible elements that found a way to coexist.
More than coexist. To thrive.
I feel myself starting to drift—true sleep, not the restless half-consciousness I’ve existed in for days. Zara’s breathing deepens, evening out into the rhythm of actual rest. The bond wraps around us like a blanket, warm and protective and real.
Tomorrow, everything changes. Tomorrow, we face the world and whatever judgment it brings.
But tonight, I chose the sky. And the sky chose me back.
That’s enough. More than enough.
As I slip into sleep, one thought follows me into dreams: Mira would have liked her. Would have loved that I finally found the courage to reach for something more. Would have been proud that her brother learned to fly.
I hope wherever she is, she knows. I hope she sees. I hope she understands that I’m finally doing what she always wanted—choosing life over fear, love over isolation, the storm over the deep.
I’m not drowning anymore.
I’m learning to breathe.