by A. W. Exley
“It looks beautiful, but you know I will make you roll all the silk back onto the bolts. It cannot go to waste,” she said.
He closed the door quietly. “Your uncle didn’t appreciate our work, but I thought we could.”
“What is the point of this, Eli?” She gestured around the room that was now transformed into their own small oasis.
The door had no lock, but Elijah didn’t want to be rudely interrupted. He picked up the only chair in the room and wedged it under the door handle.
Trixie regarded him with a slightly puzzled look on her face.
“I don’t know about you, but I am rather curious about something,” he said as he stalked closer to her. He undid the buttons on his waistcoat and shrugged it from his shoulders. His emotions roared to the surface, and he took deep, slow breaths to stop his need to hold on to her from overwhelming him.
“Curious about what?” Her question was a whisper. Her breath caught in her throat as he neared.
“What the Cor-vitis would do if we gave it access to more skin.” He grabbed the bottom of his shirt and slowly pulled it up his torso. He allowed himself a smug grin, hidden in the fabric, when she drew in a sudden breath as his body was revealed. Wiping the smile off his face, he pulled the shirt over his head and tossed it to the ground.
Her eyes widened and dropped to his naked torso. At least she didn’t look horrified or run past him to scrabble at the door. He was still a few years from having his final adult form. His body needed more gargoyle bulk, but he was more solid than gangly human youths of similar age. It was no easy thing to expose yourself to a girl you desired, and it reassured his ego to see her surprise.
Elijah stopped before her, picked up her hand, and then laid it flat against his chest.
Her touch warmed his skin as the heart vine erupted from under her palm. It raced across his chest, at first as though bright veins were illuminated and traced in glowing ink. Then, small nubs developed until they grew bigger and unfurled into tiny leaves. The lines spiralled and drew complex patterns over his skin.
“It’s beautiful,” she whispered and peered closer. With her other hand, she traced one line across his chest and then down his side.
She blazed fire over him wherever she touched, and his mind needed to seek his element to remain still and unwavering on his legs, even as he wanted to sway towards her.
As the plant drew over him, it tried to connect with Trixie. Thin tendrils like the strands of silk on their bobbins wove around the cuff of her blouse. A leaf tapped at the cotton and wound around the button at her wrist.
“Aren’t you just a little bit curious now?” he asked.
She glanced to the door. The chair held it shut against unexpected visitors. He held his silence while she calculated the risk.
“Yes.” A single syllable breathed over her lush lips.
With a slight tremble in her hand, she reached up and unhooked the cameo at her throat. Next, she undid the small polished shell buttons and tugged her blouse from under the skirt waistband. Her eyes were downcast as she took off the blouse and dropped it onto the silk. Underneath she wore a mid-bust corset in a pale yellow, and under that, a cream chemise with narrow straps over her shoulders. The swell of her bosom rose and fell with each deep breath she drew.
Elijah rested a finger under her chin and tilted her face to him.
“You are the most beautiful creature I could ever imagine. I could spend a thousand years searching the world over and never find your equal.” He dropped his hand and starting at her fingers, grazed his knuckles up her naked arm. The Cor-vitis merged their two elements, fire and earth, into a flaming plant that flowed under his fingers and covered her with living lace.
She sucked in a breath of wonder as she watched the mystical plant paint their bodies.
“It tingles.” Her amber eyes met his as they shared the wonder of the moment.
Elijah moved his hand to her nape and drew her towards him. She tilted her head, and he kissed her gently.
As fascinating as it was to watch the plant, there was something else he would rather be doing. He deepened the kiss, savouring the taste of her. She moaned against him and pressed herself to his bare chest, heating him in the exposed and chilled room.
Time stopped as he held her and kissed her inviting lips. The tart bite of cherry exploded in his mouth as he stroked her tongue with his.
As one, they knelt on the silk without breaking the kiss, their arms wound around each other. Then with one hand behind her back, Elijah lowered Trixie to the silk-covered floor.
He pulled her close to him as she wrapped her arms around his back. Her nails grazed down his spine and made him buck instinctively. In retaliation, he nipped her bottom lip before soothing it with his tongue.
Her soft murmurs and sighs were the sweetest things he’d ever heard as they explored each other.
Elijah reached down and grabbed a handful of skirt. He dragged the fabric up until his hand could touch Trixie’s bare skin. Well, almost bare skin, since her legs were clad in silk stockings.
She gasped and her body jolted. Her amber eyes were wide as she put a hand over his and halted his upward progress.
“No,” she whispered.
Elijah removed his hand and smoothed her skirt out. He thought being a creature made of stone and granite meant he knew about being hard.
He was wrong.
When a gargoyle changed form, they drew rock and stone to them to create an outer shell. Their human form lurked inside, as though they donned a heavy suit of clothing. Lying on the silk with Trixie in his arms, he felt as though the stone creature dwelling inside of him would burst outwards. His skin became too tight, and pressure built as though the gargoyle would tear away the flimsy human flesh like ripping cotton.
He drew a deep inhale through his nose and thought of mucking out the stable and forking a steaming pile of manure into the wheelbarrow.
“I’m sorry, it’s just—” She pulled away from him and clutched at a length of pale orange silk, holding it over her chest to cover her heaving bosom.
Elijah placed a finger to her lips and hushed her. “No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that without making sure you were comfortable first. You don’t have to explain; no is sufficient.”
She nodded and licked her lips. “I have to go soon.”
“Just a few more minutes, please?” He opened his arms in invitation.
She lay back down, nestling against him, and he laced their fingers together.
Trixie lifted their joined hands and the fiery plant flowed down their forearms. Like a tiny lava flow from a volcano, a trail of reds and oranges bound them together. Each leaf the Cor-vitis sprouted was a living flame as it danced back and forth, clad in jewelled tones of ruby and amber.
“Will you tell me your real name?” she whispered.
His heart went from a pounding gallop to a sudden stop. “You know my name. It’s Elijah.”
“No, your true name. This only happens between Elementals. You are too broad to be a sylph, but you’re not a salamander. That means you must be a Meidh. Your name doesn’t hint at any trait, though, unless it means something in another language, like ancient Norse for good with his hands.” Humour laced her words.
Elijah stared at the magical plant, a sign that they were fated to be together. But what if their creators got it wrong? He had never heard of a Warder being matched with a Soarer. He wasn’t sure his uncle Jasper and Dawn counted, even though her father was a Soarer. Meidh were neutral until they chose to ally with a clan.
Or did the pairing of him and Trixie prove that no such boundaries existed, and that they created such prejudices through their own actions? Did he really need any greater proof that they were meant to be together than that which flowed over their bodies trying to draw them nearer?
He could lie to her and say yes, that he was a Meidh. There were multiple problems with that, ranging from trying to come up with a name that hinted at a trait, to hi
s lack of any Meidh abilities. If he said no and told her of his true nature, her family would kill him. His head would be stuck on the dining room wall next to all the ravens they had slaughtered.
“My mother was a Meidh.” He reached out and stroked her face. His thumb caressed her cheekbone. Why did their families have to be locked in eternal, and fatal, combat? It was significant that they were drawn together. Gaia always had a larger plan, even if it wasn’t obvious to her children.
“And your father?” She turned her face and kissed his hand. Curiosity brimmed in her amber eyes.
He couldn’t lie to her. No matter what happened, he wouldn’t deceive his mate. He wanted what little time they had together to be truthful and unsullied by the lies and subterfuge of their families.
He rested his hand on her nape. “My father was a Warder. A gargoyle, more specifically.”
Her eyes widened and she pulled away from his touch. “No. That’s impossible. You cannot be one of them. If you are not a sylph or salamander, then you must be a Meidh.”
“I take after my father—Julian Seton. He died before I was born,” he said, powerless to do anything as he broke her heart and fractured her trust. There was so much pain in their pasts, he wondered that the earth didn’t split in two beneath them. A sliver of an idea wormed into his mind. What if they were paired to heal old wounds? A new generation could forge a new way forward. If they were brave enough.
“You asked for my true name… It is Elijah Seton.” His throat went dry as he rasped out his confession.
Trixie sat up and pushed herself away from him. “Seton? No. You can’t be one of them. You just can’t.”
He sat up. For all his education, he couldn’t find the words to make this better, or to allay her fears.
Her hand flew to her mouth, as though she would be sick. “Dear Ouranus, you’re here for revenge. What was your plan? Lure me to some quiet corner and murder me? Leave my broken body for my family to find?”
He reached a hand towards her, but she jumped to her feet and beyond his reach. “I would never hurt you,” he said.
He’d come to Kessel for revenge and to find the men who’d murdered his father. But as he watched the tears glistening in her eyes, he found a new truth. He wanted answers. He didn’t want to see another Elemental’s life extinguished as he closed their throat in a stone grip. He wanted to know why so many had died.
“Your family destroyed mine! We were ruined, and our ashes were scattered to the wind. My uncle was sentenced to exile for two hundred years. Seton deserved to die.” She scrabbled among the silk to find her blouse. A heat shimmer rose from her skin as her anger built.
He flinched as she flung her angry words. “My father never raised a hand to your clan and you speak of old wounds that happened centuries ago. But even putting that aside, what of those who died to conceal the Esmeralda? How did they deserve their deaths?”
Confusion took the sting from her temper and her brow wrinkled. She looked up as she placed her arm in a sleeve and pulled it up. “The Esmeralda? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Since the intimacy was over, he cast around for his discarded clothing. His shirt was buried under layers of silk that reminded him of her skin. “Archie’s family shipyard in Whiterock was commissioned to build a vessel called the Esmeralda for your uncle. My uncle’s mate lost her parents because of that vessel. They were murdered to keep them silent. Why? What did they ever do to your family?”
Trixie’s fingers shook and she struggled to do up the buttons on her blouse. He wanted to point out that she had mismatched button and hole and that the material gaped in the middle.
Her breath came in ragged sobs and the heat continued to roll off her. Sparks flew from her fingertips. “Lies. All of it Warder lies. Your family destroyed the Ocram mansion. Everything you have done has been a strike against us. You must be jealous of Archie and my marriage to him. You want to stop our families from prospering.”
“Jealous of Archie? Yes, I admit I am. Because you don’t let another person marry your mate and take them to a cold bed every night,” he whispered.
She flinched when he said those words and her nostrils flared.
He gestured around them to the scattered silk. “I have helped you here so we could start something new that would benefit this entire community.”
She shook her head and placed her hands over her ears. “Liar. Look at me and tell me you didn’t come here to see my uncle fall.”
He drew a deep breath and met her tear-filled gaze. “I came here to see your uncle fall.”
A single tear rolled down her cheek, but it dissipated with a faint hiss as her temperature continued to rise. “Get out. You’re fired. Don’t come back here, or I will tell the men what you are. Then you will see how powerful the Hamilton clan is.”
She pointed to the door, unable to look at him. She balled her hands into fists, and flames erupted over her skin, flaring higher and higher.
Elijah rose slowly, racking his brain with what to say in the few moments left to him before she started flinging fireballs at his head. He bunched up the waistcoat in his hands. “This feeling between us is real, Trixie, with no deception. The Cor-vitis chose us and that has to mean something.”
Despite the flames coating her hands, he reached out for her, but she turned away.
She tucked in her blouse with short, jerky thrusts and fiery hands that singed the delicate fabric. “No, I don’t want to hear your lies. Get out before I scream and bring my uncle’s men running.”
“Whatever I might be, I am no liar. I have only ever told you the truth. Think on that later, when you are alone.” In that at least, he maintained his honour.
He walked to the door and pulled it open. But he still couldn’t leave her. Not like this.
He stopped with one hand resting on the frame as he looked back. “What if we have been paired so that together we can heal the past and create a new future? Have you considered that, or will you cling to the mistakes our families made centuries ago and doom us to keep repeating them?”
She shook her head, tears falling on her hands to spit and hiss as water met flame.
Elijah sighed and then pulled the door shut on his incandescent mate.
22
Elijah walked through the cottage door to find Hector and Marjory sitting at the kitchen table. A pile of carrots and potatoes sat between them as they peeled vegetables for the evening meal.
“You’re home early, love. Everything all right?” Marjory asked.
“I got fired.” He dropped his leather satchel to the floor and pulled out a chair. He had found his mate and had to let her go. How long before Trixie told her uncle that a Warder was living down the road?
The small boy inside him wanted to curl up in a ball in the quiet shadows of the hayloft and sob that life wasn’t fair. The man he’d grown into had to look after his family before he ran off and sulked. He needed to get Hector and Marjory away from Kessel before they were hunted down like rabbits.
Marjory dropped the potato in her hands. “Oh, no. What happened?”
Elijah scrubbed his hands over his face and up through his hair. Things were a right mess with no obvious solution. “Trixie knows I’m a Seton Warder.”
“How did that happen?” Hector frowned.
“I told her.” Elijah picked up a peeled carrot and bit off the end.
Hector snorted a laugh. “You might be long in years, lad, but you’re short on experience. You’ve got a lot to learn about women.”
Elijah swallowed a mouthful of carrot. He had used the walk home to consider the wisdom of his actions. “I won’t lie to her, Hector.”
“You could have kept quiet.” Hector picked out a potato and began peeling with a knife.
Elijah kept munching on the carrot. “Not telling her would be a lie by omission. You need to pack up your belongings, harness the horse, and get Marjory back to Alysblud. It’s not safe here anymore, and I don’t want either of you
hurt.”
Marjory dropped a peeled potato to one side and set down the small knife in her hand. “What about you?”
“I can’t go.” A small part of him whispered that Trixie wouldn’t betray him. He had shocked her with his revelation, but optimism burned inside him that she would see that he had always been truthful. The dreamer in him had to stay to see if his mate would reconsider her path in life.
Marjory took his hand. “But you just said it won’t be safe. We should all leave before they come for you.”
“I can’t leave, Marjory. The Cor-vitis binds us, and she’s my mate. I will stay here for as long as there is the tiniest spark of hope that she might change her mind.” He had found her but he couldn’t keep her, and now a thousand lonely years stretched before him. He stared at his hand. The faintest trace of red laced over the back of his knuckles, but already the lines were smudged and disappearing with the lightest touch. By morning, they would have vanished completely.
Marjory let out a sigh, the vegetables forgotten. “Well, that’s a bit of a pickle you’ve got yourself into.”
A chair scraped as Hector stood up. The old retainer had always been far taller than Elijah, although age was shrinking his spine and pulling him downwards again. He stood next to Elijah and dropped a hand onto his shoulder.
“I’m not as wise as your uncle, nor as educated, and I’m not a Warder. But I do know that invisible plant of yours doesn’t pick people lightly. If it’s pulling you two together, then there’s a much bigger reason for it. You need to stay here and figure out what that is.”
Marjory slammed her hands flat to the table and made the carrots bounce. “No! He can’t stay. They’ll kill him like they did his father.”
Elijah wondered what was worse, dying or living without his mate. Surely the latter was just another form of cold death. “I believe deep in my soul that Hector is right, Marjory. The Cor-vitis has chosen Trixie and me for a reason. I’m not ready to give up on her yet.”