Chapter 6 #2
Gods, how I needed that.
“Kaeleron,” I moaned as I delved my hand lower, slipping two fingers into my sheath, imagining it was him.
And tensed as he was suddenly standing exactly where I had pictured him.
Not fantasy, but reality.
Flesh and blood.
Dressed for war in black leather armour and braced for a battle, his darker side at the fore.
His crimson gaze scanned the small glade as he snarled, “Where does the danger lie?”
And then they landed on me.
And slowly drifted down my body.
I blushed the same shade of red as his eyes as they clocked the position of my hands and widened.
And then his right eyebrow arched.
He gestured regally, elegantly waving his left hand towards me.
“Do not let me interrupt you. Please, do continue.”
His voice was as deep as a chasm, scraping low and thick with heat and promise as the corners of his lips tilted in a faint smirk.
“Oh my gods!” I bolted to my feet, hastily pulling up my leathers, my heart in my throat as my mind caught up and the haze of need dissipated in an instant.
It was really Kaeleron. And he had really caught me in the act.
I wanted to die, wanted to run, wanted to do a lot of things, but I settled on lashing out, shifting the blame to him as horror set my cheeks aflame. “What are you doing here!?”
He looked around at the woods, the cliff, and then back at me. “I do not know. I thought you had summoned me because you were in danger.”
I begged the ground to open up and swallow me whole as shock turned to embarrassment that had me biting back the groan that rolled up my throat as I realised what had happened.
I had summoned him through the brand.
Oh my gods.
I spluttered, struggling to think of something to say, of a plausible excuse that would spare me a slow death by embarrassment, and would divert his crimson gaze from my hips. From where I had been touching myself.
His darkened lips slowly curled into a wicked smirk. “Ah, little lamb… did you miss me so much… need me so badly… that my brand fired, interpreting your carnal needs as a dire situation that required my aid?”
My cheeks flamed hotter.
“No. Never.” I jerked my chin up and squared my shoulders, denying that little voice that whispered that it was damned good to see him though.
I planted my hands on my hips, the stubborn part of me that refused to admit that, that wanted to blame him somehow and deflect from what I had been doing, tightly gripping the reins. “Maybe you missed me.”
“It does not work that way, my little wolf,” he purred, all delicious wickedness as his crimson gaze raked over me once more, lingering on my breasts and my hips. “You must be the one to summon me.”
My little wolf.
When had I gone from just little wolf to his little wolf?
He prowled towards me, all beauty and grace, a vision of bewitching darkness with the onyx that stained his skin around his eyes and his jagged fangs on show as he grinned at me, apparently amused by this whole situation when I was just mortified.
My neck tingled, the point where he had bitten responding violently to the sight of him and those fangs, to the memory of how good it had felt to have them piercing my flesh.
And how good it had felt to bite him.
Even when we had been fighting at the time.
His eyes slowly shifted back to bright silver, and his skin darkened a shade as the inky black of his lips and around his eyes faded away.
“Liar. You’re here because you missed me.
Admit it. You totally missed me.” It was a poor attempt to cover what had happened, and perhaps it was a reach for comfort at the same time, because I had missed him, and the timid, scared little part of me that was still licking its wounds after I had been rejected needed to hear he had missed me too.
That I meant something to him.
I couldn’t breathe as he approached me, as just the sight of him made me ache with need fiercer than what I had been feeling just moments before he had appeared before me, summoned by the bond that connected us.
The scent of him—the wild storm scent I had come to love so much—wrapped around me like a comforting embrace.
He whispered low.
“Maybe I did.”
And plunged his left hand into my fall of silver hair to grip my nape as he splayed his right out on my chest, directly over my heart, and pulled me close to him. He pressed his forehead to mine, our noses touching, and his eyes slipped shut.
I stood there, savouring his embrace, but a little confused. I had thought he was going to kiss me and I ached for it, and grew cold inside as he withdrew, his motions stiff and awkward.
I wasn’t sure what had just happened or what to say, so I blurted, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to summon you.”
But I was glad to see him all the same.
And I didn’t want him to leave.
Even when I knew he should and that he must.
“You know.” He slowly lifted his right hand and feathered his knuckles down my cheek, the heat in his silver eyes warming me as he canted his head, causing the twin braids tucked behind his pointed ears to sway.
“I must say this is quite the benefit, and one I had not expected. Here I was, trying repeatedly to catch you in your bath, and when I gave up trying, I caught you pleasuring yourself. A reward far more pleasing than merely catching you bathing.”
I slapped his chest, my palm stinging as it met with the black leather armour, and glowered at him. “I wasn’t thinking of you, if that’s what you think.”
I bit those words out with as much venom as I could summon.
“You were thinking of me.” He grazed his hand down to my throat and gently wrapped it around it, his fingers tightening just enough to grip it as his thumb pressed against the underside of my jaw and he tipped my chin up, forcing my head back and my eyes up to his.
Shadows darkened them, all amusement gone just as it had disappeared from his voice as it lowered.
“If you were not, give me their name and I shall see to their death, for no one touches what is mine. And make no mistake, you are mine, Saphira.”
I shivered, warm little bursts of pleasure tripping down my spine and my lungs constricting at the way he uttered my name with that fierce, possessive look in his eyes.
“Oberon,” I whispered. “I was thinking about Oberon. I can see where the brand went wrong. Same black hair. Same silver eyes. Only one is more charming—”
Kaeleron lowered his face towards mine, all wicked beauty and darkness that stole my breath as he slowly stepped towards me to hem me in against the rough cliff face.
“Oberon is at my court right this moment. If you desire him so much, little wolf, shall I retrieve him for you? I could bring you part of him at the very least. Perhaps his head, since you find his mind and wit so enchanting?” Shadows caressed Kaeleron’s shoulders and arms, seeping from between the plates of his armour, and another shiver wracked me as they reached his hands and brushed my throat, ghosting over his hand to the back of my neck.
My nape tingled, aching to feel Kael’s lips there.
He released me, breaking contact, and went to turn, glittering golden stars filling the air around him as it darkened.
I snatched hold of his left arm before he could teleport and yanked him back to me, with far more force than I meant. He crashed into me, slamming my back to the wall of stone, a terribly roguish smile on his lips.
I knocked it off his face.
Seizing his nape and dragging him down to me as I rose onto my tiptoes, as I pressed my lips to his and claimed them in a kiss born of everything I was feeling. It was desperate, fierce, needy, and most of all it was relief, and happiness, and a sort of joy I had never felt before.
Because, by the gods, I had missed him.
And more than that, he had missed me.
Kaeleron’s strong arms wrapped around me, one hand coming down on my backside to lift me against him, bringing our faces level as he stole command of the kiss, his tongue stroking mine, sending jolts of bliss shooting through me.
I couldn’t get enough of that kiss. I sank into it, clung to it as fiercely as I clung to him as he pinned me against the cliff, as he held me close and told me without words just how glad he was to see me too.
He broke the kiss and rested his forehead against mine, still holding me tightly, crushing me against him, and I wrapped my arms around his neck, afraid to let him go, because if I did, he would leave, he would return to the Shadow Court and I wasn’t sure I could bear it.
He shifted backwards just enough to put some space between our chests and carefully inspected the mark on my skin, feathering long fingers over it as a concerned crinkle formed between the black slashes of his eyebrows.
His eyes met mine, pupils inky pools of desire that devoured almost all of the beautiful silver of his irises.
“What were you thinking when you summoned me?” He stroked the mark, maddening me with the light caress, making my nipples bead and ache for him to drop his hand only a few inches to lavish them with the same attention. “Were you imagining me between your thighs?”
I pushed against his chest. “No.”
His wicked smirk said there was little point in lying to him. He knew exactly what I had been thinking as I had touched myself.
So I huffed.
Tipped my chin up.
Owning it.
“Yes. I was thinking about you. Happy?”
His feline grin told me he was more than happy. He was delighted.
“It has barely been a few days, yet my little wolf cannot survive without me.” He pressed back against me, his gaze hot on mine, making me want to turn that fantasy I had been building into reality, and I didn’t care if Morden came upon us.
I needed this infuriating, far-too-arrogant male.
I scoffed. “I’m surviving just fine, thank you.”
He looked me over, amusement fading as his handsome features settled into a scowl that darkened with every new thing he noticed. My dirty skin. The fatigue that no doubt showed on my face. How gaunt I probably looked given how little I had been eating.
“Surviving, but not thriving,” he growled, eyebrows knitted hard above eyes that were dark for a different reason now. “The wolf is not taking care of you properly.”
“He has a name. Morden. And he’s doing his best. We’ve been on the move a lot.
” I hesitated, aware my attempt to make him see Morden as something other than a failure—or an enemy to be eradicated—was going to be for nothing if I confessed this, but I needed help—we needed help.
“We… we don’t know where we are. We think we’re somewhere between two places—the fae town Morden thought of that’s close to Whistler, and our pack. ”
He growled low and I knew it was because I had called it ‘our pack’, but it was our pack, whether he liked it or not.
It was my home.
Yet, if I was being honest with myself, if I was being brave, I would admit something part of me wanted to bury and pretend I didn’t feel.
I no longer felt as if it was my home.
I looked at Kaeleron, warmth spilling through my heart at the sight of him, relief and comfort lifting me up and easing the fatigue from my body, giving me the strength to admit it and embrace it.
I had never felt as at home at my pack as I had in the Shadow Court—at Falkyr.
That place had quickly become my home, even when some part of me clung to the pack being my home out of some sense of duty and loyalty to them.
Out of a sense that calling anywhere else my home was a betrayal.
But I had never belonged there.
Not like I felt I belonged at the Shadow Court.
Like I belonged here in Kaeleron’s arms.
I lifted my head.
And kissed him again.