4. Henmilite
Ireach out my hand across the bed, feeling for the smooth, furless form occupying the other side of the mattress. Supple skin rewards my search almost instantly, and the lazy, contented hum of the crystal in my chest turns to an insistent melody.
My thumb runs over one of the jagged, bumpy lines left from an old scar and, for a minute, it is hard to let the past be the past. I remind myself that the harsh tokens the giants left her with couldn’t be solved at the moment, and I comfort myself with the surety that I would exact payment for each one.
Drawing my mate close to me, she makes a slight sound of protest, trying to curl further into the bed, and her long, disheveled hair sweeps off her neck, exposing two small bite marks.
Mating marks.
They don’t glow like mine, but they awaken something primal. A shiver of pleasure rumbles through me. Brushing my fingers over the marks makes her stretch her long, delicate neck, as if hoping for more touch. I’m more than happy to oblige as my hand circles around her throat, and then she grabs my hand, bringing it down to her breast. The pointed peaks are soft and electric against my palm, and she sighs.
Such brazen movements please me. But not so much as when her eyes flutter open and she looks up at me through her pretty, long lashes. Her smile breaks my heart.
Every harsh, defiant line of her face is smoothed away with an openness that terrifies her. Her want is painted in the mauve of her cheeks and the slight part of her lips.
“Buenos días,?1” she murmurs, greeting me in her people’s language.
My fingers edge toward the stone in her chest practically vibrating in my palm. Her eyes close again.
“How do you feel, my star?” I ask, and something pricks in my mind. It’s a small awareness that this isn’t real—that this isn’t the morning after our wedding.
But it should be.
Estela is predictable, still too shy to care for herself in the way she desperately needs and deserves. With her eyes closed, she wraps her hand around my index and middle finger. The shifting of the blankets causes the heady scent of her arousal to perfume the air.
If I could drown in the smell of trees, sunlight, berries, and her, I would. I certainly will try.
An ache blooms in my cock, twisting and braiding together in anticipation as she brings our hands lower… lower. I reign in the need that insists I move faster as my fingertips brush the soft curve of her belly.
“Estela,” I all but growl, pressing my forehead to hers. She sucks in a gentle breath. “You still have to tell me what you want. Though, I’m a curious creature. I’ll settle if you only tell me how you feel.”
Her eyes open again, and her brows draw together. “Hot. Everywhere. It only gets worse with your small touches. I want—need—you to ease this tension inside.”
I smile, pull back, and brush my lips against her forehead, but she has other plans. Her hand pulls me into the sweet, wet heat between her legs. The soft hair pads my hand as she guides me exactly where she desires.
The gentleness inside of me fades as my other hand moves to support me while I catch her mouth with my own. Her lips part for me without any coaxing. Desperate. Tasting. Tentative, but maddening.
The slickness on my fingers helps me glide to the small bump at the apex of her thighs. I remember it well from the night before.
So small, just like her, and utterly different from the body of an Enduar woman.
Just the motion makes her hips move, and I smile through our kisses, proud of the trust she shows in me with each shifting sway. I would spend the rest of our long lives ensuring that I make her feel safe enough to abandon every fear and show this unblushing creature as she works in time with me to find her climax.
I pull back when I feel the small shakes in her thighs.
“You’re close,” I say, and she nods as her beautiful chest rises and falls with heavy huffs.
“Don’t stop,” she pleads.
I shake my head fiercely as I lower my mouth to her nipple. She arches when a broad stroke from my tongue escalates her pleasure. As her fingers thread through my hair, I’m encouraged to continue. I could never tease her.
“You are such a marvelous woman. You take each movement so well,” I murmur.
The taste of her on my tongue is beautiful, but not as beautiful as the desire I have for my tongue to take the place of my fingers. And then to fill her up to the point of ecstasy.
“Every part of you is so song-shatteringly perfect,” I murmur as her hands grip my head tighter, and then my index finger slides further down, its noble duty replaced with my thumb as I insert one digit into her canal.
She moans. Loudly. The perfect harmony to our song.
From there, it takes a mere moment for the delicate muscles inside of her to take flight, fluttering around my finger as every part of her tightens and pulses.
“Teo,” she begs. “Come inside me. Now.”
I suck in a sharp breath but don’t hesitate to remove my hand, despite her protesting whimper, and promise to make it right as I position myself at her entrance. Every part of me is ready to satiate my own ache in her giving body. Slowly, I savor the feel of pushing inside and…
A loud, insistent beat stops the moment. It isn’t a gentle fade, more an abrupt shutting off of the moment as the lights turn on in my room.
I bolt upright, immediately sore and groggy. My head thrashes from side to side, and I feel the uncomfortable stickiness on my thighs. I lift my blankets to find my undershorts coated in seed.
Dragging a hand across my face, I let out a long exhale and grab the partially soiled blanket. When I reach the bathroom, I peel off everything and run it under the water before I start scrubbing the cloth and leather with soap.
Once it’s hung up, I reach the tub in the corner and lower myself in. Soft ghosts of dreams brush across my skin, but I force myself to hurry.
I need to help the others pack, and I need to leave. Leaving means finding the elven assassins that Turalyon told me about. Finding them will permit me to gain their trust, find allies, and go to rescue Estela.
Once clean, I finish using the bathroom, tend to my pack of clothing, armor, and weapons, and head out and down the hallway. Ra”Salore is waiting near the bioluminescent fountains at the tops of the steps.
I pause, take in his traveling gear, and he nods to me. I nod back.
“Good morning,” I say as he bows and murmurs a quiet, “My King.”
We walk in silence, across the moving walkways, past the residential area, and into the mines. As we descend the tunnels toward the glacialmara stables, I focus on breathing.
For the first time, I allow myself to consider what it would mean to be leaving Enduvida for more than a few hours. The last time I laid down and rose with the sun’s cycles was when we were at war five decades ago.
As the crystals around us glint in time with the stunning metalwork of our ancestors, I get lost in the past, when the city housed a metal bending academy. It isn’t until I hear the familiar tinkling sounds of glacialmaras that I’m drawn away from the memories. The crystal wraiths have been our mounts since the dawn of civilization for the Enduares. They are long, floating serpent-like creatures with razor sharp tails and eyeless faces.
Coan, the stablemaster, gazes at everyone with hard, steel-colored eyes.
“Ho, Your Majesty,” he says brusquely as soon as he spots our approach. I force myself to be polite and smile as I wave my hand. He’s one of the elders and has a particularly comforting, paternal air about him.
Liana, Ulla, Niht, and Turalyon are strapping on saddles made of Ruh’Glumdlor leather. A small chorus of everything ranging from, Ma’Teo to My King fills the air. I look each of them in the eye, knowing every potentially awful outcome of this trip. They could die.
I could die.
A pang of despair comes when I realize that Vann did not come to say goodbye. I didn’t think he was still particularly upset about the discussion we had before I fell asleep, but perhaps I had not seen the signs of his irritation.
It feels uncomfortable to leave without saying anything.
The glacialmaras are restless as we load them up with packs of supplies. They buck when leather straps are wrapped around their middle sections, and their melodic chimes sound discordant. One comes up to me with its unseeing eyes, somehow studying my being.
“We call her Rahda,” Coan says with a smile.
I raise an eyebrow in the face of the creature’s scrutiny. I knew that glacialmaras were a female-only species. But the name…
“You named it after a rat?”
Coan nods. “She likes to steal food from the others. And she’s much more mammal than crystal beast.”
To prove the stable master’s point, her head pushes into my hand, and Coan huffs a laugh. I run my palm over the smooth section of hard stone, gazing down at Rahda as I ask, “How is everyone?”
She nudges me again, and I swear a voice inside of me says, have a little faith. Not everything will end in disaster.
“Better, now that I see you have slept,” Liana says.
I make a sound by sucking on my teeth. “Glad I could help. Will you be joining us, too?” Please, no.
She makes a face and places a hand on her back. “I’m too old for these small creatures. My back would be squealing before the sun begins to sink in the sky.”
I fake a laugh to hide my relief. “Perhaps we should bring drathorinna,” I half-heartedly tease, bringing up the mother of all glacialmaras. She hasn’t been seen out in the open since the first Great War, and she is only ever ridden by Fuegorra readers, like Liana or Estela.
“Ha,” Liana muses. “No, I must keep the crystal dragon safe for her new rider.”
“Very well,” I say, suddenly serious and turn to the side, where Ulla hums a tune that displays her nerves. She checks that all of the packs weigh more or less the same before our small party departs from the caves.
Last night, I felt sure in choosing Niht the hunter, Turalyon the diplomat, Ulla the healer, and Ra’Salore the stone bender to accompany me. It’s a balanced decision, accounting for every need. And yet, the weight of asking people to head into dangerous territory presses down on me this morning.
I finish strapping the last crystal beast and straighten, wiping my hands on my leather riding pants.
“How long has it been since you left the caves, Ulla?” I ask, still thinking about the massive distance we’ll have to travel. Leaving without a healer would be foolish, but she seems unsure and that makes my nerves spike.
She stiffens, silver-blue eyes meeting mine before she brushes a stray strand of gray hair behind her ear. “Since Sama’s blessing.”
I raise an eyebrow. “For more than a morning.”
She presses her lips together. “Never. I was born in Enduvida before the wars.”
My lips press together, and acid pools in my stomach. It is strange not to know that about her. She was one of the few who had lived in this city before, but I always assumed that she had spent more time traveling around the world. I desperately wish there was another healer with more experience leaving the caves.
Vann grumbles behind me, surprising me out of my worries. I straighten to find him sauntering in from the tunnels. Gratitude flowers along my rib cage. I shoot him a half-heartedly sharp look through my grin.
“Perhaps you should take someone who knows the overlands better,” he says.
I shake my head. “Ulla is a healer. That will be vital. Besides, she’s also a better cook than you. You must stay and work with Svanna to keep everything running smoothly.”
Vann lets out a noncommittal “Bah” which makes me genuinely smile.
Ulla smirks, not showing any sign she still feels even a fraction of my anxiety. “Stay away from the plants and the pots. Luiz knows what he’s doing well enough.”
The momentary lightheartedness evaporates like mist meeting a flame. My heart clenches as I think of Estela working in the kitchens. I see the plants… plants she brought to the under mountain.
Lifethat my mate brought to this dying place.
Life that now blossoms in my soul, climbing up the walls of my stoney insides and wrapping themselves around my fleshy heart before carving her name with a thousand thorn pricks. Gods, I just miss her. Even though I slept through the night, my weariness returns.
I compose myself and reiterate, “There isn’t anyone I would rather trust to take care of Enduvida than you and Svanna, my friend. Though I appreciate your willingness to come with us, I need to know our home is safe in my absence.”
Ra”Salore speaks up as he finishes packing his creature. “I would remind you that I am not so willing to visit our betrayers.”
I grind my teeth. “Remember what I said yesterday—there aren’t enough of us. If what Turalyon says is true, then we aren’t meeting with those who betrayed us. This is an off-shoot group of considerable size which could give us hundreds of soldiers.”
My gaze travels to Ra’Salore, and he nods, subdued but not convinced. “I will follow you.”
“High praise,” I return. Silence follows as we all mount the creatures.
“Not so fast,” Liana says.
She reaches toward the reins and brings me close to her, producing a clump of smoky quartz from within her dressing robes and holding it up to my forehead. She moves it back and forth, singing a simple hlums’dor song. The small ritual is familiar, a parting blessing for travelers to find safety on the road. One by one, she blesses us all.
Then she places two pieces of swirling, green sardonyx in my palm. “These are speaking stones. I didn’t have time to prepare more. Each is only good for one message, so be careful with what you send.”
I put the gems in my pocket, nod, and whisper my thanks. She pats me on the shoulder and then gives me a playful shove.
“Go!” she calls after us, and we push away. The rush of air is instant as we follow the warm tunnels around their twists and turns, emerging in the open air.
Sunlight beats down on us, reflecting off the snow with blinding rays, and I hold up my hand to shield my eyes from the assault. A thousand new smells whip past my face as the clear, fresh air swirls around us in abundance. To one side, the frozen sea glitters in the sunlight, and to the other side, the forest with snow-dusted tops.
As riders, we must be the eyes for our glacialmaras. I turn to look at Ulla, and find her frozen, mouth agape as we hover several feet above the ground. Niht races up behind her reaching out to tap her on her shoulder.
She makes a surprised sound, and then laughs, leaning forward and racing after him. Unlike the two of them, Turalyon and Ra’Salore wait for me to move. Our clear crystal steads take on a blue hue as we nudge our mounts forward and fly down the mountain. We whip past the spot where Estela was attacked by a cold one, where her blood seeped into the ground, and onward. I see the trail the giants used to travel to our mountain.
It could still carry her scent, and I push aside the urge to go and smell her. We race on to the east, toward our cousins. I shudder as I think of the cold ones that threatened her life and came into our tunnels, changing those with their black bites.
I just pray we don’t find any more along the way.
After riding for several hours,the five of us set up our first camp amidst the icy forest. Ulla and Turalyon light a small fire, and I unpack the dried supplies while Ra”Salore keeps watch in the corner. Niht roasts a couple of small beasts he shot with his bow.
I watch Niht bite down on a leg of meat while I tend to a roasting creature.
“I swear. I saw a rat this large in the middle of two bushes,” he boasts, holding his hands far enough apart to accommodate a small child while Ulla shakes her head.
“That was a fox or a wolf, you giant fool,” she says, but she’s laughing.
I smile when Niht shakes his head. “I come from seven generations of the most respected hunters in our history. Do you think I wouldn’t recognize a… what did you call them?”
This time, I can’t help but chuckle along with Turalyon and Ulla. For a minute, the catastrophizing stops, and I don’t think of every horrible outcome. I can picture all of us making it home with my mate.
“A wolf, oh, great hunter,” Ulla mocks.
Niht shakes his head before looking up. He points into the snow. “Look, there?”
We all scramble over the fire to look exactly in the direction he points and see…
“Gods on their stoney thrones, Niht. It was a wolf,” Ulla starts laughing hard enough that the furry beast spares one last look at us before dashing off.
Ulla claps him on the back, but the tops of his cheeks are slightly purple.
“You haven’t spent much time out of the cave. I heard you say so yourself earlier. Animals love me,” Niht says.
Ulla smiles. “That doesn’t mean I don’t know anything about animals. I do read quite extensively. Some Enduares are excellent artists.” She extends her hand and hums a few notes. A few small white rabbits peak out of a burrow beneath the snow.
Everyone watches her, and the rabbits tentatively come forward to snag a few of the dried leaves that we brought. They sit on the ground, listening to her song.
I smile, warmed by the fire and those around me.
It isn’t until Ra”Salore takes a step towards her that Ulla stops singing and the rabbits dash away. She brings a gloved finger up to point at him.
“No hunting, my friend; we have enough meat. You too.” She shifts the accusation to Niht.
Niht puts his hands up. “Fine, fine. I promise, cross my heart and turn to stone.” One of the rabbits comes over to him, and she gawks. He laughs and reaches down to stroke the creature. “I cannot help it if they come to me, though I kill their kin.”
Ulla smiles. “You are a big child.”
He grins. “Yes. I’m hoping when I find my human mate, she doesn’t fear my age since my soul has retained a certain youthfulness.”
Ra”Salore snorts. “You are an immature dolt.”
“It surprises me you think you would find a mate amongst the humans,” Ulla says, ignoring Ra”Salore.
Niht shrugs and takes the spit off the fire. “I met the queen. She’s fiery and talented. Very proficient. The one with red hair is beautiful, too. I like their small heights and ample bottoms.”
I growl at him, and his eyes go wide.
“I only meant?—”
“Nice to see you don’t think Enduar women are enough for you,” Ulla says bitterly through downturned eyes.
That eases the tension, and I feel a twinge of guilt, but Niht crosses over to her slowly, swishing his tail behind him.
“I am also named after Lo’Niht. The greatest scholar on love in our history, my dear,” he all but purrs. “If you were interested, all you had to do was ask.”
Ulla rolls her eyes. “You would be so lucky.”
He grins, a wicked thing spreading across his face. “Oh, I would count myself amongst the luckiest.”
“And I would count myself amongst the cursed.”
Ra”Salore chokes on his food, but Turalyon and I start to laugh. I throw my tent down atop the snow as Niht lets out a few huffs of his own.
“That was very clever, Ulla,” Niht says, grinning.
“Thank you,” the healer replies with her own smile.
Turalyon sits down next to me on the leather mat I’ve put down to keep away the chill of snow. He smiles up at the stars.
“Thank you for bringing me, My King.”
I reach around and pat my hand on his back. “This is the easy part, friend.”
He stills. “My King,” he starts. “Permission to speak my thoughts?”
“Of course, Turalyon,” I say, reaching out to pick up another piece of meat.
“I know that you’ve entrusted me with several missions the last few months, but do you really consider me a friend?” he asks.
I nod. “Of course I do.”
“Then, as a friend, can you tell me of the war?” he asks. “I remember the bloodshed, the lava. I had just finished the dual’moraan when we realized we might die.”
My smile fades.
“What is there to tell of war? It’s a gruesome business that sometimes cannot be prevented. My father fought every surrounding species in search of power.”
“And the war we seek to start?” the observant Enduar asks.
I flex my jaw. “This war will be fought to right wrongs.”
Turalyon nods thoughtfully. “That’s a good way of putting it. I see your many years alive have brought you wisdom.”
I look over and elbow him in the ribs. “Are you calling me old?”
The hunter grins. “As a friend? Yes.”
I shove him and he rolls away, laughing. Forcing another smile on my face, I stand, bid everyone a good night, and head to my tent. I am not offended, and I don’t wish to bring down their mood. Not when they are all doing me a great favor.
Better to be bitter and alone.