Chapter 41
Acceptance is a numb buzz as I step into the stark moonlight and follow the path to the backwoods. Curiosity offered emptied promises and now my head pounds with a budding headache.
It’s time to refocus. With a quick reminder of what awaits me at the end of this mission, I throw myself into the present, leaving the hope of astral projection to wither and die.
The walk to Morvayne’s Well is eerie and chilling in the dead of night, just as it had been the first time. I pass the old groundskeeper shed, refusing to let my gaze wander too far into those shadows.
This place tastes like death, blanketed in frost-coated leaves.
Whether it’s frigid apprehension or the overwhelming relief that this will be over soon I’m not sure, but my fingers tremble as I approach the small shrine glazed in darkness.
The full moon apexes the sky, blanching the landscape in silvery white light, contradicting the shrine’s pitch dark interior.
“Jace?” I strain to make out any movement from within. Fuck…have I been foolish enough to walk into my own murder, like a mouse lured into a killing trap?
“In here, starling.” Jace’s voice echoes through the clearing. There’s a strike of a match, then a swift bright blaze and a flickering flame. Candles ignite throughout the shrine and my shoulders relax.
No, I’m not about to meet Morvayne, at least not in the usual context.
My boots click on the basalt steps as I file in between smooth, rounded columns and meet Jace.
Little candles are scattered on the floor around us, circling the blood-red well like fireflies or stars.
Their wicks crackle against a breeze rolling in from the mountainside.
“There’s a few things you should know before we get started.
” Jace extinguishes the match with a flick of his wrist. The low neckline of his tunic drapes down his chest, falling open with strands left untied.
Blood warms my cheeks when my eyes land on the curve of his pectorals, washing down each solid line of his hardened abdomen.
“Okay,” I reply, my throat suddenly drier than sand.
He takes a step toward me and retrieves the rune from his trouser pocket. “This type of bond is complicated. It might force me to shift. If that happens, I can’t promise I’ll stay in control.”
My shoulders stiffen. “Oh…”
“Keep your dagger at my chest, just in case you need to use it.” He places the rune in my hand.
“What do you mean it might force a shift? How is that possible?”
He watches me with dark eyes. “This is ancient magic, Nova. Graced by Morvayne himself. Our death god commands my other form, and if an offering to him draws it out…I won’t be able to stop it.”
I swallow the knot in my throat and nod. “Okay.”
“Are you prepared for its other effects? Most aren’t able to withstand them.”
My thoughts wander to the tracking link and as if it’s been summoned, the familiar sensation of its presence ripples down my spine. Establishing that link was agony beyond comprehension. If I withstood that, I can do it again.
“Try to keep a clear head and breathe through it. We wouldn’t want anything to happen that either of us might regret.”
“That’s not cryptic or anything.” I scoff.
“It’s not too late to turn around and move forward without this.” His eyes flick to the shrine’s exit.
I shake my head. “No. We’re doing this.”
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you. Follow what I do.
” Jace wades into the well, the crimson water rippling around his thighs.
I unlace my boots and slip them off before following suit.
My hands tremble when I dip my toes into the water.
It’s as warm and silken as a freshly drawn bath, rather than the icy depths I’d encountered before.
Candlelight washes Jace’s face in dry amber tones, softening his features in a way that has turns my stomach.
“Are you ready?” he asks, his voice low and serious. A heartbeat of hesitation lingers between us before I place my palm in his. His skin is cool to the touch, like a shiver of midnight frost.
“Let’s just get this over with,” I reply.
Jace takes a step toward me and the undone tunic strands brush against me. I don’t dare breathe, refusing to lose myself in his scent. My vision falls out of focus as he leans in.
“What are you doing?” I snip. Our interlaced fingers wrap around cold steel.
“Keep this ready, Nova.”
That sentiment should terrify me, but instead my damned body sparks with the thrill.
Oh yeah, this is about to go terribly wrong.
“I’ll recite the incantation and make our offering. You’ll feel it when the bond is complete.”
I nod and armor myself for the impending agony, just as I had weeks ago with Finnick.
“Oh, and Nova…if I shift, and you hesitate…fully expect that I’ll find you.”
My eyes widen, and again that violent delight blooms right between my thighs. Gods be fucking good, this man will be the death of me.
Jace closes his eyes and draws in a long-winded breath. I drop my eyes to our intertwined fingers and the gleaming dagger pointed at his chest. His body goes rigid.
My heart is a battering ram against my sternum when energy crackles between us. Pure, starlit power drips from his skin, and when Jace reopens his eyes, they snap right to me.
“Don’t drop your dagger,” he bites, the words strained like he’s battling for control.
My lips part, but I follow the command and secure my stance against him. The tip of my blade prods his bare skin, drawing a bead of crimson that trails down his abdomen, and for a moment, I allow my gaze to follow its path.
“Last chance, Nova Lindwen.”
“Do it,” I say, voice trembling.
Jace whispers a murmur of the incantation, but his eyes never waver. Sharp, predatory, and merciless. His fingers twitch around mine as he speaks in the language of the cosmos. The candles burning around us blow out one by one until we’re soaked in moonlit shadows.
“Jace…” I whisper, but he drags a canine over his bottom lip, silencing me instantly.
He offers one last verse to Morvayne.
Then, he rotates our intertwined hands and forces my fingers loose.
The rune and dragonstone pair fall into the well, disappearing through the blood-stained water column.
When the last ripple of disturbance dies out, the water shifts.
It thickens. Copper and salt prick my nose when I draw in a breath.
Fuck, is that real blood? I’m half tempted to skim a hand through my terrified reflection, but I stop short.
The dagger wedged between us thrums with the reminder—don’t drop your blade.
A rush of sheer, cosmic current scatters our image along the well’s surface. I tense my posture against the impending agony of the bond snapping into place. Jace grits his teeth and squeezes my hand tighter.
But the pain never comes.
Instead, another sensation builds, like a quiet spark in the night. It grows and buds until my vision goes out of focus.
I don’t want to run screaming or put five hundred miles between us. No, my chest heaves with rapid breaths, my thoughts scatter like glass on stone, and every inch of skin ignites in a wildfire of pure, unwavering need.
The dagger in my hand falters.
Holy gods, I’m about to combust from the inside out. My skin pleads for relief from the building tension, coiling like a serpent between my thighs.
“Fuck…” Jace’s curse is a low rumble at the back of his throat. Jaw clenched, he squeezes his eyes shut. “The…dagger…Nova.”
A groan slips from him and my nostrils flare. My thoughts tunnel until all I can feel, breathe, think, is him. His hands on me. Those lips molded to mine. Tension builds to the point of discomfort, begging and screaming for release.
“What is…what the fuck is happening…?” I ask through sharp, shallow breaths.
Every thought stampeding through me is of him—his scent, his skin, his mouth. My body burns for his touch, my center aches for a delicious friction that only Jace Ashborne can provide.
“It’ll pass, just breathe,” he says, words taut with wavering control. My eyes flick to his hands, now clenched around mine. Fuck, those fingers, long and perfect. My inner walls pulse to feel them inside me, stroking, circling, guiding my climax.
“Do you feel it, too?” My words are an agonizing groan.
“Yes,” he replies. “Keep your fucking blade on me, Nova.”
This lust isn’t a half dreamt fantasy or a raindrop of sensation. No, it’s the whole damn tidal wave, crashing through me until I’m crazed and fucking feral.
My thighs shake.
I’m on fire and frozen all at once. The world ceases to exist outside of the connection between us, and I need more. Astora help me, I need him more than I need to breathe—to live. I’ve plummeted past the point of madness, spiraling down down down.
“What is happening?” I’m burning and scorched, and only his touch will extinguish the flames. Only his mouth against mine and those beautiful, infuriating lips can begin to satisfy this need.
I’m melting for him, falling from the cosmos for him, and without that solid body pressed against me, I fear I may descend forever.
“It’s your body reacting to the bond, Nova. That’s all.” He grits his teeth, utter turmoil splayed across his face. My sanity, my rationality, my self-preservation all hang above hot coals, yet I’m ready and so fucking willing to let them burn. His grip locks around my wrists, gentle yet firm.
“I…” The words are stolen from me with another flood of desire.
My tunic shifts against my chest, scraping over my heavy, swollen breasts, and the resulting moan that escapes me is nothing short of primal.
Jace’s smouldering eyes drop from mine and land on the imprint of my puckered nipples.
“Fuck, Nova…” he breathes. His eyes rain over me, breathless and ragged, like he’s drinking every inch of me in.
“I know I’ve gone mad, because I’m still furious with you, but Jace…” The dagger pushes a little further into his sternum as I close the distance between us and press my aching body against him. “Gods above, I need you to touch me.”