The Discovered

by Maggie Sunseri

  “I’m just having a hard time…” he paused, searching for words. “It’s hard for me to come to terms with the fact that I can’t protect you from everything, everywhere, at all times.”

  I sighed. “Well of course you can’t. You can’t hold yourself responsible for such unrealistic expectations. That’s just insane.”

  A flash of anger passed through his eyes, but I wasn’t sure where it was directed. “Well, it’s what I want,” he snapped.

  He wanted control of the uncontrollable. Daelon found the same comfort in his drive to control as I did to cede my power to him and take a break from it all… it was a complementary coping strategy, but it was one that was impossible to maintain in this world.

  “You’re used to getting what you want, aren’t you?” I said, my tone aching to lighten his mood. I was only met with exasperation.

  “Yes,” he said, looking away. “In some ways, I guess I am. In other ways I’m used to getting exactly the opposite.” He looked back to me. “Knowing you were attacked while lying right next to me just set me off. I want you to be able to protect yourself when I cannot.” He paused for a moment, closing his eyes as he took in a breath. When he reopened them, they held my gaze with a level of solemnity that scared me. “No,” he said. “It’s not a matter of my want. You must learn to protect yourself when I’m not around.”

  “Sometimes you talk as if you’re dying,” I said quietly. “You’re not, are you?”

  “No, Áine, I’m not dying,” he sighed, softening his voice. “Just trying to set realistic expectations.”

  He was annoyed, and even though I knew it wasn’t directed at me, it still felt like it was. I didn’t like the way it made me feel—almost like I was failing at something. “I can protect myself. You saw that I can,” I said. “Isn’t that sort of the whole point of being a mysteriously powerful witch?”

  Daelon was impassive. “Possibly.” He crossed his arms. “But there are some evil, unnatural forces coming for you. Much more powerful than a group of energy vamps,” he said, his voice low and conspiratorial like other times he alluded to our enemies.

  “You don’t think I’m stronger than them? Or him?”

  “Not now. But you will be. I’m going to make sure of it.”

  I frowned. Ouch.

  Daelon got up suddenly, making me jump. He strode across the room to the window, appearing to fight off another urge to punch a hole through a wall. I wanted to joke about that but thought better of it.

  I pushed up from the table, far more deliberately than he had, and approached him. He stiffened when he sensed me behind him. One of his hands was pressed above him to lean on the wall, his other balled at his side. I reached for his fist.

  He straightened out his fingers at my touch.

  I tugged on his arm. His features were hardened as he regarded me, his jaw tight. He still let me lead him to the couch, a smile breaking through as I tried in vain to push him onto it. His body was like a brick wall. He humored me, letting out a breath as he sat down.

  I climbed into his lap, snaking my hands around his neck. His glare finally melted under my gaze, and his arms encircled my waist. I concentrated, allowing what I felt to pass from me to him.

  It was a flood of warm hues of my energy—my desire to soothe him, my gratitude for the position he’s put himself in to constantly ward off the darkness, and my uncontrollable adoration of him. It was a tapestry of lightness and strength, forged against all odds during our short time together.

  His hands moved upward to wrap around my back, pulling me tight to his chest. I rested my head in the crook of his neck.

  We stayed like this for a while, each tentatively sharing the feelings we already knew we shared—the feelings we still were unable to say aloud for reasons we both concealed. I feared this unpredictable, fiery relationship wasn’t just built on shaky grounds; it was built on no grounds at all.

  We were free falling, and I wasn’t sure where we would land. Or if we ever would.

  When I finally lifted my head, his grip around me tightened.

  “I’m not going anywhere,” I whispered to reassure him.

  His dark eyes were so vulnerable now that the anger had melted, offering a rare glimpse into an emotion he so carefully hid: fear. “I know you aren’t,” he said, the corners of his lips quirking up. “Because I’m not letting you.”

  He looked like he wanted to say something more, but I sensed it was something that we only said through energy sharing.

  “I want you to know that I’ve never felt this way about someone before,” he said. “I need you to know that.”

  “Because you’ve only had kinky sexual relationships before?” I ventured, remembering things he’d hinted to in the past, then I quickly shook my head. “Nope! Never mind. Don’t need to know. Forget I asked that.”

  He narrowed his eyes as if to gauge what I was feeling. A playful grin spread across his lips. “You’re jealous,” he said, somewhere between question and a statement.

  I scoffed, trying to move off of him, but he held me firmly in place. He was enjoying this far too much. “I am not,” I said, unconvincingly. I glowered at him. What had begun as a tender, vulnerable moment had quickly devolved into our usual games.

  He laughed, which only made me more flustered.

  “You’d be jealous too,” I taunted. “Believe it or not, you were not my first.”

  “Oh, I’ve gathered,” he said.

  My mouth gaped. I swatted at him, and he caught both my wrists. In one swift movement he had me pinned underneath him, my head resting at one end of the couch.

  I searched his eyes, pleased to see that his façade of the unbothered and unthreatened wasn’t as strong now. Now it was my turn to smile.

  “You’re right. Thinking about you with others does make me jealous,” he started. “So I need to ensure that you know you’re mine now.”

  I was stunned to silence, suddenly aware of every place on my body he currently touched. His thumbs stroked my hands from his hold on my wrists, and his hips rested on mine. He moved one hand to travel down the length of my body, stopping between my thighs where it teased and tormented.

  After far too short of a time he pushed himself off of me to stand. I sat up, shooting him a look of confusion.

  “Stand,” he instructed.

  So, I did, and something about the way his voice and demeanor shifted like it always did when he took full control sent me deep into an altogether different headspace. The more he exercised his dominant role the more I relaxed into my submissive one. He wanted to hold on, and I wanted to let go. He wanted to feel more powerful than whatever he hid from me, and I wanted to surrender to the magnetism between us that felt just as natural and transcendent as my magick.

  He gestured with his hand for me to follow him to stand behind the couch, facing the fireplace. “Turn around,” he said, making the movement with his hand as well.

  I faced away from him, a shiver running down my spine. Without the ability to see him physically or to read his aura, I was left completely in the dark, tethered only by his commands.

  “Take them off.”

  He didn’t need to say what for me to understand. I was wearing an off the shoulder sweater dress, so it was easy for me to complete this task. I reached down and slid the thong down my legs, casting it to the side with my bare foot.

  I waited in a frenzied anticipation for my next instruction, but instead I felt him move closer to me. He dragged his hands down the sides of my body, and then his right hand bent me over, so that I had to grab the back of the couch for support. I gasped as his left hand moved to where my underwear had been.

  This position left me feeling utterly exposed, especially now that he was touching me in this way, his fingers moving expertly. I moaned softly, my fingers digging into the fabric. Suddenly he slipped two fingers inside me, stroking my hair momentarily with his free hand. The contrast between these soft, endearing gestures and the rougher, domineering ones
was entrancing, and I felt myself fall once again under his spell.

  After bringing me to the edge, he withdrew, leaving me breathless and back in my anticipatory state. I heard the rustle of clothes.

  I pushed off the couch, and as soon as I did Daelon engulfed me, reaching from behind to grasp lightly at my throat, his arms holding me tight against him. He lowered his head so that his mouth was close to my ear. I could tell he was almost completely naked now.

  “Did I tell you that you could move, little witch?”

  “No.”

  He let me go, bending me over more forcefully this time.

  My breathing rapid, I fought the urge to look back at him. I wanted to see all of him—to admire the way his muscles flexed as he moved, the way his eyes consumed me possessively, hungrily—each time feeling as though it was his first.

  When he finally touched me again, I calmed, unaware of how tense I had become with anticipation. His hand made featherlight touches through my hair, down my back, and finally coming to rest on my hip. I held my breath, realizing what was coming.

  His first thrust was slow, and a moan escaped my lips. “You feel so good,” he cooed.

  I inhaled sharply, his next movement anything but light. I didn’t need to read energy or body language to interpret this message, as he grasped my hips, moving forcefully, deeply, over and over as my legs began to shake. I heard his message loud and clear.

  I gripped the couch, overwhelmed by pleasure and intensity. Soon there was no room to think about anything at all but the present moment. There were no more doubts, fears, questions, or really any thought at all.

  There was only Daelon marking his territory.

  My perception of time melted away, so I wasn’t sure how long it had been when he finally released me. He pulled my dress back down, gently guided me up to face him.

  “Are you okay?” he asked, his eyes softer than I expected them to be.

  “Uh, yes,” I stuttered. My mind felt cloudy, my skin flushed, and my body still shaking slightly. Finally able to see Daelon’s chiseled body, I couldn’t help but stare.

  He narrowed his eyes, studying me for a moment. A smile spread across his lips.

  “Good,” he murmured. He scooped me into his arms effortlessly and carried me to his bedroom.

  “I can walk.” I gave him an indignant look.

  “I’m not so sure,” he chuckled.

  I felt my cheeks redden even more. He set me down on the edge of the bed, his eyes soft and adoring for a moment.

  “Take off your dress,” he commanded, so I stood and pulled it over my head.

  I smoothed my hair, unable to keep my eyes off him.

  He seemed incapable of the same. “You’re so lovely, Áine,” he said, holding my chin in his hand. “Now get on the bed.”

  I returned his slight grin before doing as I was told.

  “Hands above your head. Don’t move,” he instructed. “Or speak. Which I know is hard for you.”

  I shot him a glare but obeyed. I took this opportunity to catch my breath, but soon Daelon moved over me. My heart skipped a beat, but there was also a wave of intense calm that spread over me when he was close—so strong it was hard to believe it wasn’t magick.

  He was safe. I didn’t believe that whatever he hid from me could ever alter that fact.

  “You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever met,” he said, surprising me. He rested a hand over my heart. “Everything you do amazes me. You give me hope, Áine. You’re going to give so many others hope, too. You remind me of where—who—I come from,” he faltered, a sadness passing through his eyes.

  I wanted to speak, but I felt myself compelled to do what I was told. Noticing my hesitation, he placed a finger on my lips.

  “And I don’t want you to ever change. Or to lose your heart.”

  His words hit somewhere deep, and I realized it was because they mirrored things my mothers told me. They said I was here to give people hope. They told me to never lose my heart.

  I could tell he wanted to say more, but he leaned in to kiss me instead. At first soft and coaxing, the kiss quickly deepened into something more impassioned and forceful. This constant contrast nearly gave me whiplash, but I didn’t want Daelon any other way.

  He pulled away. “I’m not done with you yet.”

  I longed to reach out and touch his chest. He met my gaze, his lips curving into a slow smile.

  “You give up power so well for someone with so much,” he said nonchalantly, trailing kisses along my throat, past my collarbone, and to my breasts.

  His next destination challenged my ability to keep still, my hips struggling not to move upward. He grasped my thighs in either hand, spreading them apart. His grip tight, teetering on the edge of pleasure and pain—as usual.

  I dug my fingernails into the sheets above my head, feeling the pleasure build. There was no teasing this time, no stopping or slowing. I let go, falling deeper into Daelon’s pervasive hold over every part of me as I did. My body tensed all at once as the pleasure overtook me, and then I stilled.

  Daelon stopped, moving back up to hover over me.

  “Did I give you permission for that?” he asked, a hard edge in his voice that didn’t match his grin.

  I shook my head, knowing full well that he had set me up. This game was unwinnable.

  “You can move and speak now. Not that you’ll be able to do much of either.” He entered me, grasping my wrists and holding me in place.

  I wasn’t sure how much more I could take, understanding now that this was just as much of a punishment as it was a reward. Everything was more intense this time, and Daelon was relentless.

  He moved one hand to my cheek as the other trailed down my torso. “Whose body is this?”

  “Yours.”

  Chapter 17

  I lay facing Daelon, my hair still wet from our shower—where he had insisted again on delicately washing my hair and running soap over my skin. Just as before, he seemed unable to keep his hands off me for too long, preferring me close to him. I wasn’t about to complain.

  “Just so you know,” I said, my heartrate picking up. “I’ve never felt this way about anyone either.”

  He didn’t say anything at first, letting my words hang in the air between us.

  No relationship I’d ever had could match this—not that I’d ever made it past a couple months with someone on Earth. It just wasn’t something I thought was possible, at least not with the men I’d met. I had too much baggage, too much I couldn’t say, too much they could never understand. The trauma from my mothers’ deaths and multiple placements in foster care sure didn’t help, nor did the negative beliefs about myself and the haunting inevitability of loss, change, and impermanence. I wore intimacy issues like adornments, and aside from my three best friends, it was hard for me to ever relate to anyone at all.

  Basically, I wasn’t relationship material. And no amount of therapy could help with that. The whole my-mothers-told-me-I-would-someday-return-to-the-witch-realm part of my trauma couldn’t even be discussed without being stuck with a psychosis label.

  I’d spent a decade in a realm that made me feel hollow, misunderstood, and forgotten. But Daelon understood me completely, more than any of my human friends were even capable of.

  “Lucky me,” Daelon said, pulling me back from my reflection. His smile didn’t reach his eyes.

  “What is it?”

  He shook his head slightly, moving his hand over mine where it rested on his heart.

  “It’s okay. I’ve accepted that we can’t pretend that we’re normal for very long,” I said, forcing a smile. I wasn’t sure if it was convincing.

  “I just don’t like the feeling of running out of time. Especially with you.”

  “Are you sure you’re not dying?”

  He rolled his eyes. “Yes.”

  “It’s him, isn’t it? You think he’s going to find me soon?” I asked.

  It was the only explanation that made sen
se. Daelon’s mysterious spell in the clearing had channeled power that matched Lucius’s, so I assumed that meant the spell was an attack against him.

  We were far too intimate for secrets now. I willed him to finally give me just this one straight answer.

  He hesitated. “Stop,” he said, pained. “I can’t.”

  My mood soured instantly. I couldn’t make sense of his off-limits topics or keep track of all of them. I had already met Lucius, after all. What more could there possibly be to hide? It was hard to believe that he still feared I would run off without him on a revenge path.

  Daelon closed his eyes for a moment, his forehead creasing. Was he shielding us from Lucius’s magick now? The thought of that terrified me.

  “Well, I guess I’ll find out when he’s on our doorstep,” I snapped.

  Daelon’s eyes flew open, so fiery and sharp that I gulped, the hairs on the back of my neck pricking up.

  “You can’t stop, can you?” he said, his tone cutting. “You can’t just enjoy the time we have. You have to go and ask questions that I’ve told you so many times I can’t answer.”

  “Can’t? Or won’t?”

  I recoiled from him, and I could tell the act wounded him as a flash of hurt passed through his eyes. I shrugged off his attempts to stop me as I pushed myself up and out of the bed. I faced him, and I felt raw power calling to me from all directions.

  “We’re close enough for you to have just been inside me as you made me say I was yours, but not close enough for you to be completely honest with me. You ask for the impossible, Daelon.”

  He jerked back as if I’d just slapped him, his face falling and his anger melting completely away.

  I turned away from him, but I was unable to erase the image of his wounded features from my mind as I left, the door slamming shut on its own behind me. The afternoon light illuminated the hallway, and I walked to my room in silence, wearing nothing but one of his shirts.