by D. D. Chance
“You will.” Aiden’s finger traced the curve of my jaw, then trailed down my neck, skirting the edge of my collar.
Heat rose and curled within me. “I’m not going to remember much if you keep that up.”
“And wouldn’t that be a shame?” As he drew his finger down the center of my tunic, it split open as if he wielded a knife I couldn’t see. My startled laugh broke off with a huff of surprise as he drifted his fingertips over the dip in my collarbone, across the rise of my breasts.
A powerful need swelled within me, reminiscent of my typical reaction to Aiden’s touch, but something more this time.
“It’s different,” I said, glancing up to meet his gaze to see it fixed on me, his blue eyes glittering.
“It’s different,” he agreed. “Different, but right. It’s always right with you. No matter what you have to teach me, no matter how you surprise me. I think what I’ve learned most of all is that I love every surprise, every challenge. Every moment I can spend with you. I never want to stop learning.”
He pinned me with a look. “Are you going to leave me, Belle?”
I drew in a shocked breath as his hands slid down my waist, anchoring me against the couch. It wasn’t a threat, nor even a plea. It was the simple request of a Fae as much in love as a Fae ever could be. A Fae whose magic I could control more than he could, for all that he was mighty and powerful. I looked deep into his eyes and willed the chaos of our many futures to assault me, but they didn’t.
Nothing came to my mind.
“No,” Aiden said, surprising me. “I don’t need your sight to answer this, my beautiful witch. I need your heart. Just your heart.”
“I don’t want to leave you, Aiden,” I whispered. “There are people who depend on us, on me in some small way, although to them, it’s very great. You, in a much more obvious way, the clans, your people. But I don’t care about any of that most of the time. I just…I mean, I just want to be with you—living with you, loving you. But I don’t know if I can.”
I lifted shaking hands as I spoke, and as they neared him, his own tunic whisked away, leaving the broad planes of his chest, a chest that shivered as I laid my hands upon it.
Aiden blazed with heat, kindling an echo of my own magic. “I never want to leave you,” I confessed. “I fear that not seeing the future after seeing so many options is simply my mind’s way of preserving me from a fate I can’t handle.”
“Then we’ll handle it together,” he said, his hands shifting up to cover mine. “I love you, Belle Hogan. You are my fated mate. And whether or not our fates reject that truth, it still holds true. Our light shines stronger now that we are together, strong enough that it will serve as a beacon in the darkest night for both our peoples.”
“I love you,” I said, fighting the rise of hysterical tears bubbled up on the frothing surge of emotion and power. I didn’t want to be a Hogan witch at that moment. I didn’t want to be the representative of my people, any people. I just wanted this.
I reached out and touched my lips to Aiden’s.
30
Aiden
My mind was singing with triumph so loudly that Belle’s kiss caught me off guard for the tiniest breath, my body reacting with a rush of heat that most assuredly wasn’t about magic or Fae power.
It was about Belle. I swept my hand down her body, the rest of her clothes falling away from her as did mine until we lay sprawled on the couch, her heels digging into the cushions, her arms around me, our bodies entangled. Nothing had ever felt more perfect. There were no more questions, no more doubts. She loved me, and though she feared we wouldn’t end up together, I knew better. Because I couldn’t live without her. So we would either be together—or there would be nothing at all.
I shifted my body higher, taking in every dip and curve of her, the spill of ink along her skin, the myriad scars of a life hard-lived. She lifted her hands to splay her fingers over my chest. “I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of this,” she sighed as I edged forward, and in one fluid movement.
“I’d hate it if you ever did,” I half laughed, half moaned, and my heart tugged hard as her own soft chuckle mixed with mine, the sound as natural and healing as the touch of her skin against mine, the feeling of her wet heat surrounding me. She closed her eyes, sighing, and I drank in the sight of her—so beautiful, so fierce, yet so vulnerable as well. A human witch who had spent her lifetime running…from me. And now I had her in my arms, which made me the luckiest Fae in this realm or any other.
Time seemed suddenly to be passing too quickly, and I spoke the spell with a huff of urgency, Belle’s eyes fluttering open in surprise as she recognized it. Her lips parted in a smile as she raised a brow, then arched herself up into me, making me groan the last few words of the incantation.
“I don’t think Magnus would appreciate you using the time spell to give yourself more time to enjoy yourself,” she pointed out, while I just grinned at her, my expression no doubt going a little more frantic as she shifted her position again, wrapping her legs around my hips to seat me more deeply within her.
I hissed out a breath to slow the thundering of my heart and ease the clattering urgency of my need.
“I think of anyone, Magnus would know that all is fair in love and war. And maybe we should stop talking about Magnus right now.”
She laughed again, and after that, there were no words necessary except soft mutters and questions, directions and sighs. We moved together as if we had known each other for years, not mere days, and as our movements grew more frantic, our minds seemed to calm, our thoughts and emotions intertwining as closely as our bodies. We rushed to the pinnacle of climax, bursting over it at the same moment, and then time rewound again to allow us to savor the experience all over again, the dance starting anew.
Finally, we dropped together in a boneless heap, and I had no more energy for spells, no more energy for anything other than reveling in the feel of Belle curled up beside me, her body as loose and lax as I felt, the heat of her skin warming me all the way to my bones. I let my eyes drift shut, wondering if my heart could grow any fuller, and knowing the answer was, inevitably yes. Every moment I spent with Belle would open it further, and I would welcome whatever joy, pain, or challenge it brought.
“Aiden…”
Opening my eyes again, I looked over to see Belle staring at me, her gaze clear, her expression lucid as she opened her mind to me. And then—I saw it. A hundred spinning futures for the two of us.
Some were filled with war, the chaos of battle, the rush of bodies. Then a new set burst across my mind, images filled with celebrations, groups of warriors and nobles alike cheering—some of whom I recognized, some I had never met before. What sort of battle would I be fighting that I would enlist so many to help my cause—and how many would die before I won it?
The question slipped away from me as more potential futures bombarded me like an angry sea. Belle and me, standing together in front of Witchling Academy as delegations arrived, Fae from all reaches of the realm. The image fractured, and new delegations arrived, but not only Fae this time. Humans, dwarves, wraiths, even shifters from the monster realm all approached, eager and filled with equal parts apprehension and hope. Beside me, Belle laughed with delight at the opportunity to share all she knew with those who wished to learn it.
Then the image twisted again. I stood alone beside the standing stone at the glade of barrow mounds in the mountain realm, my shoulders bent, my face haggard. Misery and despair flooded me as I watched this scene unfold. Before me lay a new mound, freshly built and covered in flowers. But the Fae didn’t bury their dead, so who—
A new scene replaced it—not a moment too soon. But this was even worse. Belle standing on the edge of a wide sea, tears streaming down her face, her hair whipping wildly in the wind as she held her hands out in supplication to the waves. Never had I seen anyone looking so alone.
A rush of other visions flooded through, too fast to count. In one, Belle fled, chased
by Fomorians who struck her down. In another, I was covered in a sea of black oil, the laughter of the Fomorian king rolling over me. In still another, dawn broke over a perfect summer’s morning at the lake, and Belle walked out onto the wide deck, and in her arms she carried—
“Ah!” A lance of pain drove through my temples, as beneath me, Belle gasped, clearly caught by the same angry jab. I roughly pulled her to me, wrapping my arms around her tight. She shivered, then hiccupped a soft sob, and I felt the touch of her tears against my skin.
“There are—too many,” she whispered. “Too many futures to know which will be ours. Some I know can’t happen, but some…”
“I know,” I murmured, drawing back to face her. “I don’t care, Belle. I love you. I want you. However I can have you, for as long as the Light allows. With you, any future is bearable. Even if one day…” I swallowed, but her shaky smile took my breath away.
“Then we will live for today,” she said, her eyes shining with tears and something more as she stared at me. Joy. Hope. And, once again, so brightly there was no denying it, love. “For always and ever, if the goddess allows, but mostly…for today.”
31
Belle
My eyes popped open, but it took a second for me to realize where I was. At some point, I had made it to the cottage’s master bedroom, though it looked nothing like I remembered it. Now a large bed of sturdy Fae wood faced a veritable wall of windows, and the trees seemed to have shuffled to the side a bit, the branches lifting up and away to reveal more of the placid lake beyond.
The sun had risen over the far edge of the opposite side, and the water was awash in fairy lights, shimmering and clean. I lifted myself up on one shoulder to see better. Aiden moved beside me with a grunt but didn’t fully come out of his deep slumber. Our legs were wrapped in soft white sheets, which, combined with the flooring of silver and soft gray, made the bed feel like it was crafted out of clouds. I shivered as something shifted deep within me, like a puzzle piece sliding into place. I scanned my hands, my body, wondering what fresh hell I should expect with my magic—and realized I could feel the weight of the invisible emerald crown again, the heavy shackles once more in place on my arms. I even felt weaker.
Every time Aiden and I made love, my abilities seemed to take a hit, and not in a good way. It was a good thing I found him so irresistible.
Beside me, he rumbled a soft laugh. I turned to see him regarding me with a sly smile.
“I thought you had agreed not to read my thoughts,” I protested.
“I did, whenever you expressly warded them against me. And it’s difficult to stay out of your thoughts when they’re so complimentary.”
I chuckled as well, the sound strangely jarring to me. Not because it felt wrong, but because it felt so right.
I swung my legs over the side of the bed and stepped out of the sheets, easily evading his halfhearted swipe. A soft white cotton dress I hadn’t noticed before but was absolutely perfect for the moment lay tossed casually over a gray wicker chair. Set against the whites and golds and fresh greens of the lake view outside, the simple dress made my heart catch. I didn’t think I’d ever seen anything so pretty.
“I have to agree with you,” Aiden murmured, but he didn’t move as I shrugged into the dress. I moved toward the window and realized it wasn’t a window at all, but a set of tall French doors that opened with the merest touch. I considered it with some surprise.
“That wasn’t there before.”
“None of this was here before,” Aiden agreed. He didn’t sound at all concerned about it, but I turned back to him, narrowing my eyes.
“Did you do this? Are you changing this illusion as we’re experiencing it?”
“This isn’t my illusion.” He lazily reached out and rapped his knuckles on the gray-and-white wooden table beside the bed. The resounding rap was satisfyingly real. “I would suggest it’s not your illusion. It’s real, Belle, not a glamour. It has substance and heft to it that do not trigger my Fae senses.”
“I don’t have that kind of magic,” I began, then broke off as he grinned at me.
“It would seem you do,” he said cheerfully. “I mean, who are we to say what you can make or unmake?”
A ping of recognition rang deep within me, a rush of panic after it. The memory that surfaced in my thoughts wasn’t of Aiden’s gorgeous face, but the harsh, angular mug of the Fomorian king, laughing at me. I pushed the image away and opened the French doors, stepping out on the wide porch, where chairs were set up at easy angles to view the water, a small table between them. On the table was a carafe of silver and two cups brimming over with a rich black liquid, a thick and blessedly familiar aroma wafting off them. Coffee.
I practically pounced on them, lifting one of the cups with shaking hands. “Are you sure we’re not dead?”
“Anywhere we are, as long as you’re with me, it’s a good place.” Aiden emerged from the bedroom clad in light flowing trousers, pants I definitely hadn’t seen lying around, and, a little more disconcertingly, pants I’d never really imagined him in. If I’d willed them into being without knowing their final form, what did that mean?
Still obviously reading my thoughts, Aiden glanced down at his trousers as I studied them and shrugged.
“I wouldn’t have picked them out myself, but I like them. They move easily and they are well made. So if you created them to suit me and thought of nothing more, you succeeded. And I rather think…”
He broke off, angling his head sharply toward the lake, confirming my suspicions that something was definitely off. I hadn’t imagined it before—the trees on this side of the house had moved to the side, creating a gallery between the water and the cottage. The ground was covered in pine needles and smelled rich and earthy, sloping down gently to where the water lapped against large stones weathered by time.
Aiden smiled broadly. “I could get used to an audience chamber like this,” he said, well pleased. He raised his voice.
“Come on, then, you are always welcome to speak in the realm of the high Fae.”
The sun brightened, sending a slant of glittering light into the open space. A moment later, a dozen Laram stepped out, and with them, a half dozen other creatures, sized to match their Fae counterparts. Two dwarves, a pale blonde Akari in its human form, and a silver fox that shifted before my eyes to Marley from the White Crane. I grinned and clasped my hands to my chest, barely keeping myself from clapping, and Marley gave me an elegant bow.
“Report,” Aiden ordered. A Laram stepped forward. I blinked with surprise as I recognized Regin, the dark eyed, sturdily built lesser Fae who’d first discovered me in the human realm. Had he gotten promoted for his reconnaissance work? I couldn’t read his mind, but he gave me his own nod of recognition before turning to focus on Aiden.
“The Riven District has expanded half a mile in diameter, stretching into the woods which you traversed,” he said. “It does not encroach upon the Hallows, but it is clearly gaining ground.”
“You think the Fomorians are planning to stage their incursion there?” Aiden asked, but Regin only shrugged, and the Akari representative stepped forward. Aiden nodded to him to speak.
“It’s possible the Riven District could be growing on its own,” the tall, broad-shouldered Akari said, his voice low and resonant. “Such pockets are not unusual in the long history of the monster realm, where the energy lines between realms overlap. Sometimes they come into existence to vanish a few years later. Sometimes they last centuries. The denizens of the Riven District don’t leave their land, though outsiders are welcome to enter. They don’t bother us, we don’t bother them. We wouldn’t have known of their attachment to this area until after the attack had started. Now, if it does, we will be ready.”
I sensed Aiden’s frustration, but before he spoke, I interrupted.
“The Fomorians don’t worry you?”
The Akari shrugged, the sun slanting across him seeming to set his white-blond hair on fire. “
The ancient ones came with tales of terror and destruction. But they’re not alone with those proclivities among the monster realm. Why do you think the dragons are relegated so far to the west? We understand some creatures were born to burn the world. But these lizard men have done no harm beyond the simple enforcement of their laws within the district they have created for themselves. The ancient tales of their ancestors do not worry us.”
“A fair question, Mistress Belle,” Aiden replied. “And a fairer response.”
I glanced at him, belatedly aware I’d interrupted him during a formal summons. Still privy to my thoughts, he smiled.
“You are my wife,” he said in my mind, with a depth of emotion that shook me to my toes. “I welcome your council and your insight as much as I do your magic.”
He turned back to Regin and the Akari. “Thank you,” he said. Then he turned to the other monsters. “You are under no obligation to answer my call, but I am grateful you did. What would you have me know?”
“The dwarves stand with you, as we did in ancient times,” declared the first stout dwarf, his eyes bright beneath his thatch of iron-gray hair, plaited to either side of his weathered face.
“I never had any doubt of it,” Aiden responded, and the dwarf gave him a short bow.
“Needed to be said all the same,” the dwarf boomed. “We stand and we fight any who threaten our home.”
“And we come bearing news from the bar,” said Marley, his sly grin betraying the fact he was enjoying himself immensely. “Once the smoke cleared, we found the place shipshape, as of course you know. What you may not know is that we reopened our doors and welcomed back patrons, and there were a damned sight more of them than usual.”
My brows lifted. “Really?”
“Really.” He nodded. “After the fire, it seemed like any charmer to whom you’d ever served a drink felt the need to come back and check in on you, Belle. We even had some of the nobs from the magic academies show up, looking for a fight we couldn’t give them. Everyone was stirred up and restless, and now we know why, if war is brewing in the Fae realm. Either way, we’ll stand and fight, in this realm or any other.” He brushed a nonexistent piece of lint from his sleeve. “I haven’t had anything to do for an age, so I welcome it. Of course, it’s not just your regulars. The witches are back as well.”