A line of black hair disappears down his pants.
My lines warming, I quickly look back up at his face and find that his smile has turned feral.
Lukas removes his wand, his knife, and the sheaths, then sets them all on the table next to my Wand. He sits, removes his boots, and reaches under each pant leg, removing rune blades strapped just underneath.
“Sure you won’t need them?” I challenge, attempting a fierce look.
“As dangerous as you are, I highly doubt it,” he jests. He sets the second knife next to the first one and flashes me a grin. “You seem increasingly friendly.”
“You’re incredibly attractive.”
He smiles at me and picks up his wand. “Lie back,” he gently prompts.
I comply, and he softly murmurs a spell. Thin, dark lines flow from his wand and encircle my body, brushing lightly over me in a caressing net, sending out delicious sparks, some muted by the clothing, some startlingly pleasurable where they touch down on bare skin.
My breathing deepens, the sparks radiating a delicious vibration down through the core of me, and a moan escapes my lips. “Oh, that’s nice, Lukas.”
His eyes take on a carnal light. “It’s a lot more fun with your clothes off.”
I stare at him for a long tension-fraught moment as the lines dissolve then disappear, my words soft and sly when they come. “Then take them off.”
For an instant all is still. The fire crackles in the fireplace. Neither of us moves.
Lukas is next to me in one streamlined movement, the bed dipping from his weight. He focuses on me with searing intensity, his hand sliding up the center of my camisole as if he’s determining where to start first.
The camisole is off in three gentle decided tugs. The rest of my clothes in a single smooth motion. He has the ardent intensity of an artist. No hesitation. No awkwardness.
He leans down and his mouth claims mine as he lowers himself onto me, his long, muscular body pressed decadently against mine, excitingly hard and warm to the touch. Our affinity fires race toward each other, earthlines rapidly interweaving, and I can sense Lukas’s affinity flames straining against his careful control.
He seems to get hold of himself and pulls back the way he did when we played music together. His touch is lighter now, his firelines more contained. He waits for me, letting the intensity build as he kisses me ardently and his fire strokes down my lines, the heat surging forward, then pulling back again—a dance. Rise and fall. Teasing me by withdrawing. Then giving me a heated glimpse of his full power.
Slowly, I catch on, and we begin to find each other’s rhythm, faltering less and less, exploring each other’s bodies and magic. I revel in the hard muscle of his thigh beneath my palm. The jut of his hip bone under his pants. The caress of my power on him here, his hands firm on me where my magic sparks with a burgeoning longing for him.
And surprising things that cut clear through the fiery haze of our power.
His fingernails, lightly grazing my outstretched palms, sending tingling waves of heat through my body. His mouth, shockingly on my nipple, his tongue spiraling in ever-tighter circles. The delicious warmth of him. The decadent glimpses of his half-naked body moving against mine.
His weight shifts on the bed and he sits up, his eyes hot on me. His wand is now lightly in his palm. “Lie on your back,” he hoarsely invites.
Ensnared by him, I eagerly comply. Lukas murmurs a spell, his voice throaty with desire, and sends the sparking lines out over me again.
“Mmm.” I’m like a cat in sunlight, languidly stretching into the pleasure he’s flowing through my lines. He’s all tight focus as he slowly moves the wand down my body, sending the sizzling magic ever lower as a delicious tension builds.
The lines coalesce in one spot between my legs, and I’m overcome by a sudden explosion of shuddering ecstasy, my neck arching as I cry out, and a throbbing heat envelops me. Wave after wave of it. Taking its time receding. I close my eyes, crane my neck, and let out a long, shuddering breath.
Only then does he come to me.
His half-clothed body slides over mine, his own hard desire pressing where pleasure still echoes, my eyes still dreamily closed. I bask in the incredible sensation he created, pivoting my hips to hold on to the edges of it. Pressing against him as I do.
He rolls half off of me, and I hear a small click and feel him unfastening his belt.
I open my eyes then turn quickly away, the room unsteady, my heart thudding in my chest, his fire racing through my lines. I bite gently at my lower lip, the taste of cherries and oak still lingering there. Then I swallow and venture a glance at his body. Heat burns along my neck and I look away again as a raw trepidation cuts through my haze of desire.
Lukas gently slides back over me, the skin of the entire length of his body enticingly warm against mine.
I turn and catch the glint of firelight reflected through the bottle of oil. With one hand, Lukas unstoppers the bottle, tips it, and pours some onto his fingers.
I breathe in the oil’s warm floral-vanilla scent.
He props himself up on one elbow, his palm now on my stomach, sliding down, the oil’s soft heat flaring in his palm’s wake. His fingers leave a trail of warmth where they travel, the sensation flaring. Lukas traces spirals on the naked skin of my hips with the oil, the heat reverberating, then slides his fingers lower, holding my gaze to confirm my permission the whole time.
I nod and let out a ragged breath, my hands tightening on him.
I catch another glimpse of him, and nervous surprise mingles with a hard flash of want as heat rises on my face, my chest. It’s so intimate, the sight of him. My breathing deepens in response.
A man’s body. Aroused.
Lukas positions himself just over and against me as he kisses me long and sensuously. A tighter hunger takes hold as our fires blaze toward each other and I pull him closer.
And then the full pressure of him. A jolt of stretching pain that arches my neck as I gasp in surprise.
Lukas pauses, now deep inside me, one hand grasping my hip, his mouth almost touching mine. He’s breathing hard as he waits for me, all tight control, the sting of his entry receding. He brings his mouth back to mine and kisses me deeply, sending twining, soothing roots through my lines.
He waits for my grip on him to loosen, for my chaotic lines to smooth out and warm. Then he moves in me, slowly at first.
I gasp at the fullness of him. It’s overwhelming. But a heated pleasure reverberates to balance the hurt, and I arch toward him as his fire shudders through me and pleasure takes hold and builds anew.
Lukas’s movements are smooth and in delicious concert with the motion of his mouth and tongue, the loosening then tightening of his grip on me.
The loosening of his magic.
I slowly fall into sync with him, finding his rhythm as strengthening waves of pleasure and his fire eddy through me. I press my hips forward to meet him and feel his smile on my mouth.
When the explosive rush finally comes again, it’s not as ecstatic as before, the slight sting at the edges of him holding me back. But a more mellow, decadent pleasure courses through me, blending roots, sinuous branches, and shuddering fire, dampening the hurt. I let out a sigh and glide my fingers down his muscular back.
Lukas’s control begins to fracture as he picks up the intensity of his rhythm, his touch becoming increasingly impassioned with a growing hunger as his fire rushes through his lines and into mine, the heat building.
On instinct, I wrap my legs tight around him, my mouth pressed to the heated skin of his neck as he moves. I summon my power and push blazing fire and branching magic straight into his lines.
Lukas loses all control.
He thrusts hard, his breathing hot and ragged, as he grips at me fiercely.
“Elloren...”
He drive
s a gasp from my lungs with one final thrust that floods me with warmth as he groans and grips me, his fire spiraling all around my body, scorching through my lines.
His jaw presses into my shoulder, his breath hot. Every muscle in his body rock-hard.
His eyes meet mine.
Open. Wide-open. Unguarded.
The wild yearning in his eyes stuns me, and I almost shrink back from the intensity of it.
After a long moment, Lukas’s breathing evens out, and the raw, ardent intensity in his gaze dampens.
We lie embracing like this for a moment, both of us seeming stunned.
He pulls out in one smooth motion as I cling to him, still in a haze of magic and heat. “No, don’t go,” I protest.
Lukas gives a low laugh as he moves off me and onto his back, now staring at the ceiling, one hand on his muscular stomach, his breathing deep and ragged.
I sense a void opening between us, and I cling to him, hugging his arm. But he seems suddenly lost in thought, elusive.
I’m still affected by the force of our combined magic, overcome by a pleasurable, heated daze, but I’m clear that he’s been incredibly thoughtful in how he’s handled me. There’s only a small, throbbing ache where he’s been, mingled with the hot, lingering pleasure.
He turns and meets my eyes.
“I’m still caught up in your fire,” I tell him.
One finger traces lightly along my side. “I’m caught up in everything about you,” he says, his voice throaty. “You’re so lovely, Elloren. Just...beautiful.” He’s looking at my body with deep appreciation, like it’s a fine work of art. His gaze lifts to mine and the affection in his eyes strikes a chord deep inside my heart.
I hold up my hand and marvel at how the fasting marks have changed, intricate new spirals flowing down my glimmering-green wrist.
Lukas holds his similarly marked wrist up and then traces the lines of my wrist with a fingertip. “Have I brought you sufficiently to heel,” he teases, sending a shiver through me as he traces the line.
I cough out a laugh, and even through our magical thrall, I manage a look of white-hot defiance. “No.”
Lukas’s laugh is low and satisfied. “Good.” He lightly touches the tip of my nose, smiling wickedly before his eyes grow serious. “Hold on to that.” His smile fades, and that ardent fire is suddenly back in his eyes.
Then conflict.
Lukas eases onto his back and stares at the ceiling again, his expression unreadable.
I’m too relaxed from the fire still coursing through me to feel any sting at his withdrawal. The pull of his magic, the wild pleasure of being with him—it all spirals together and sweeps me into a black, dreamless sleep.
CHAPTER SEVEN
ASHES
ELLOREN GREY
Sixth Month
Valgard, Gardneria
When my eyes flutter open, dawn is illuminating the edges of the drawn curtains.
Lukas is up. Even in the early-morning light, I can tell that he’s bathed. I smell soap mingled with that deep-forest scent of his. He’s in newly pressed pants, his chest bare as he pulls his belt through the loops.
I stir, disoriented, and meet Lukas’s intent gaze. His eyes flick toward my chest, and I see a spark of interest in them as he buckles his belt.
I glance down at myself and jolt fully awake, mortified to realize I’m completely naked. I jerk the sheet that’s haphazardly wrapped around me up over my breasts.
This is all wrong is my first thought. This isn’t what this is supposed to be. The uneasy remembrance slams down that we’ve never even told each other I love you.
My pulse quickens as my emotions churn.
Lukas is all business. He looks to be thinking hard on something as he grabs his tunic and throws it on, then leans to write something on a list he’s started on the side table. His eyes flick toward me every now and then, his expression unreadable.
Emptiness drops through my center, hollowing me out. I lie there, motionless, my messy nakedness jarring in contrast to his cold, crisp efficiency.
This was a mistake. A terrible mistake.
And even worse, I enjoyed it.
Remorse whips through me, along with the certainty that something precious has been lost to me forever. I run my fingers back to clutch at my tangled hair.
I was supposed to experience this with Yvan. Instead I threw it away on a man who might care for me and respect me, but who’s never once said he’s in love with me.
For escape.
My rational mind is clear that Lukas and I didn’t do this on a whim. That we’ve allied ourselves as true friends to escape from Gardneria and fight for everything that’s good in the world. But I’m unable to escape the fierce tide of grief and emotion as it captures me in its undertow.
There will be no sweet discovering of this with Yvan, everything new and fresh to both of us. No holding me afterward and whispering endearments. It’s lost forever. That first time with someone who truly loves me.
I ball up in the bed, chilled by my nudity, close my eyes, and struggle not to cry.
I want my uncle back. I want to tell him that everything has gone wrong and is spinning out of control. That he was right to shelter me. And I don’t know what to do, because I’m being faced with impossible choices. I want to talk to him and have him comfort me.
I want to go home.
Lukas has gone very still. I can’t hear him moving at all.
But I can feel his gaze on me.
I brace myself, remembering how unsympathetic Lukas was when I was attacked by Icarals in Valgard. How he snarled at me that I had to be tough. I feel like I’ll hate him with an unstoppable fury if he tells me that right now.
“Elloren.” His voice is softer than usual when it comes.
I open my tear-blurred eyes to find him standing before me by the edge of the bed, holding his hand out to me.
“I can’t get up,” I tell him roughly. “I’m naked.” Regret rips through me. I close my eyes tight, trying to block everything out.
What have I done? Why did I decide to do this?
To save your own life, a quiet part of my mind reminds me. And to fight to save countless others.
I hear his body shift.
“Elloren.” He’s close to me now.
I open my eyes to find him kneeling down almost to my eye level.
His gaze is steady on me. “After I’ve gotten you to safety, I will court you properly.”
I want to laugh at the sheer impossibility of his offer.
Safety?
The word breaks through my misery, our impossible situation rushing in. There is no safety for me. Only unspeakable, terrible danger. People who hate me. People who want to kill me and watch me suffer.
People who see me only as a weapon to wield or destroy.
It all floods through me. The very real danger to so many lives if I don’t survive and learn how to fight. But my odds of survival...they’re so horrifically bad.
I don’t want to die, I don’t want to die, I anguish with every beat of my heart.
I’m scared. Not just scared. Terrified. I start to tremble.
Lukas’s hand takes firm hold of my arm. “You are not alone.”
The way he says it stops me short. I open my eyes to meet his gaze full on. He’s so sure. Like it’s a simple, unassailable fact.
It’s not enough to heal the gaping wound in my heart, or to extinguish my debilitating fear, but the certainty in his voice bolsters some central part of me. Enough for me to roughly wipe away my tears and take the robe he’s now holding out to me.
I contort myself to try to put the robe on under the sheet, giving him a look of censure when he does not avert his eyes. But when he holds out his hand again, I take it.
Lukas gives me a slow once-over as I rise, and I
marvel at him, stunned that he can be so brazen. I shoot him a grimace as I pull my robe tight.
Heat flares in Lukas’s eyes. He lifts his hand and gently slides it along the nape of my neck and up through my hair, his thumb caressing my jaw as he sends a stream of his affinity fire through me, both the fire and the motion of his hand soothing.
I close my eyes and intentionally pull on his flame, my breathing and my mortal panic loosening. Steadied, I look up at him.
Lukas nods with a look of calm approval, as if acknowledging that I’ve steeled myself. He smiles. “If the world were not about to end and I’d already courted you properly, I’d peel that robe off you, pull you onto the bed, and ravish you again.” His finger idly traces the skin along my robe’s neckline as I gape at him.
His simple, straightforward lust at a time like this is so outrageous that it makes me cough out an incredulous laugh in spite of myself. I can tell by the amusement dancing in his eyes that this bawdy humor is his attempt to comfort me.
It strikes me that trying to be close to Lukas is like being allied with a cobra. It’s unsettling comfort, but comfort nonetheless.
And as much as I want someone to hold me, I don’t need a sentimental ally right now. Lukas may be cold and harsh at times, but I need someone hard. And this dangerous, ruthless man is promising to help me get out of the Western Realm alive. At great personal risk.
An unexpected wave of gratitude washes over me.
I reach up to rest my hand gently on his shoulder, stand on my toes, lean in, and softly kiss his mouth.
Lukas’s eyes darken with yearning as I draw back a fraction.
“If you kiss me like that one more time,” he says teasingly, his voice velvet smooth, “I will take you again. Vogel be damned.”
I slide my hand back through his hair and run my thumb lightly over his lower lip, a flare of desire rising in me that takes me by surprise. I let my hand fall away and step back from him.
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