Trillian shook his head. “Camille,” he said softly, “that’s another thing you’ll learn about me. With you, I won’t keep score.” He held out his arms and I slid into them. Once again, he held my heart. And in that moment, I knew what I had to do. What we had to do.
LATHE stared at Roche’s body. I’d hired a wagon to haul him back to the palace and then dragged him through the halls by the scruff of his collar, ignoring the trail of blood as his body bumped over the rough marble. I was determined that my boss wasn’t going to take credit for the catch and I made sure that every agent, guard, and noble that I’d met on the way to Lathe’s office knew that I’d taken Roche down and brought him in.
“You got him?” The look on Lathe’s face was priceless as I dumped Roche at his feet.
“No thanks to the false leads you threw my way,” I said. “But here he is. Sorry I couldn’t bring him in alive. He might have confessed that you were trying to help him get away then. But you listen to me, Lathe. Every agent and guard between here and the palace steps knows I collared Roche, so don’t you dare try to steal credit for this.” I jabbed him sharply in the chest, hard enough to leave a mark. “You play by the up and up or so help me, I’ll make sure you’re exposed for the sicko you really are.”
Lathe blinked, then reached out and grabbed my wrist. “Don’t you threaten me, little girl. You won this round, but one of these days you’re going to go too far. And then, you’ll have to run straight to me. And my price for help just went through the roof.”
I pulled away from him and backed toward the door. “You wanted Roche. I brought him in. Do I get my promotion or do I tell people what scum you are?”
Without missing a beat, Lathe turned back to his desk. “Oh, you’ll get your promotion. You’ll get a raise for this, and eventually, you’ll get a promotion. But Camille, you’re going to wish you’d played it my way. Trust me.” And with the flick of a hand, he dismissed me.
THREE nights later, Trillian was waiting for me by the doors to the temple of Eleshinar, the Fae goddess of passion and love.
“Are you sure you want to go through with this?” he asked, glancing up at the temple.
“I’m sure.” And I was. Sure of only one thing in the world: that this was the right thing for us to do.
“You didn’t suggest this out of some sense of obligation, did you?” Once again, he cupped my chin and gazed into my eyes. His touch was like fire, and I wanted him, all of him. “I don’t want you only because you feel guilty, or because you feel you owe me something. Especially like this.”
I clung to him. “I’m so hungry for you that I ache. I want you inside me. I want your arms around me. But there’s far more to it than that,” I whispered. “Last night, I asked the Moon Mother what I should do. And she confirmed what I was thinking. Eleshinar’s Ritual.”
“This ritual—it can’t be undone.” He gazed into my eyes, his own ice blue ones searching my face, looking for the truth of my heart. I opened myself up so that he could see . . . could see that I wanted this more than anything. That I had to go through with this.
“We’re meant to be together. What happened . . . you know we forged a link. All we’re doing is formalizing it.”
“I know. I may not pray to the gods, but I have my own sense of destiny.” Trillian shuddered. “I’ve never felt this way before. You are part of my future. And so . . . for better or worse, yes, we’ll perform the ritual.” He let out a long sigh. “What will your family say? Do they know where you are?”
“They think I’m at the Collequia, as usual.” I laughed, suddenly happy and feeling like a bride on her wedding day. “Oh babe, trust me, you don’t want to know what they’ll think. You don’t want to know.”
There was nothing more to say. I took his hand and we walked through the temple doors.
THE altar was composed of a long, cushioned dais, surrounded by tables filled with lush baskets of fruit, loaves of bread, sweet chocolates, and pastries. Another table, near the dais, held inks of all colors, and several long, thin brushes. Near the altar stood a stone tub, embedded into the floor, steamed with swirling water as the scent of roses and jasmine and ylang ylang rose to perfume the air.
Nori, the priestess I’d spoken to that morning, slowly glided up.
She was beautiful, bare-breasted, and her skirt was a sheer drape of sea foam and silk. Golden armbands encircled her upper arms, and her hair was smoothed back in a long ponytail. But most arresting, a brilliant tattoo of green and gold curled its way across her forehead to wind down the sides of her face and neck, coiling farther still to encircle her breasts and spiral in to her nipples.
When she smiled at us, the room lit up and I stared at her, unable to tear my gaze away. She laughed, her voice a tinkle on the wind, and my heart lifted. Whatever magic the priestesses of desire wielded, it was infectious.
“You are certain of this?” she asked.
“I am.” I expected to hear myself waver but my voice came out surprisingly strong, as if I wasn’t the one speaking but instead, the Lady of the Moon herself.
Nori turned to Trillian. “And you? Are you so certain, as well?”
He nodded. “I am.”
“Then we shall begin.” She gestured toward the tub. “Disrobe and enter the ritual bath.”
Suddenly shy, I began to remove my dress. I’d worn a simple shift, aware that the ritual would entail removing my clothing. It was much easier than fumbling with a bustier and buttons and ties. As I slipped the straps off my shoulders I glanced over at Trillian, all too aware that he was watching every move I made. As the shift fell away, grazing my nipples, I shivered in the cool air of the temple.
Trillian’s look said everything. Desire, passion, hunger, longing . . . it was all there. After a moment, he slid off his tunic and trousers and stood there, five-foot-ten inches of gloriously toned muscle. He looked like a statue carved out of onyx, polished and smooth. As I lowered my gaze to his hips, his cock rose, erect, smooth and with just a drop of liquid on the tip of the head. I licked my lips, aching to slide up against him.
Nori walked between us. “I can see it,” she said softly. “There is a cord that binds you already. This ritual will only be the confirmation of what you’ve already begun.”
She motioned for us to get in the tub. I carefully lowered myself into the chest-high water, spreading my arms as the bubbling warmth surrounded me. Trillian joined me, but we didn’t touch. We were forbidden to touch. Yet.
Inhaling the fragrant steam, I closed my eyes and let the stress of the week wash off me. I tried not to think about the coming months. My father would be furious, my sisters, too. But this was something that I knew would happen sooner or later, and the sooner, the better as far as I was concerned.
“Please, dip fully under the water,” Nori’s voice spiraled into my thoughts.
I held my breath and lowered myself under the water level, letting it immerse every part of me. Trillian did the same and when we came up for air, he gave me a glowing smile, all I needed to remove any lingering doubts.
We exited the bath and Nori handed us long bath sheets to wrap ourselves in. The air had grown warmer, though I couldn’t see any fireplace around. She pointed toward the dais.
“Please, lie down on your backs.”
I settled myself on the dais and she helped me adjust my soaking hair. Trillian joined me, and we lay there, not touching, inches apart, the lazy air currents playing over our bodies. I sucked in a deep breath. He was inches away and I could feel him there. I wanted to reach out, to touch, caress, but forced myself to lie still, the tension in my body driving me crazy.
Nori’s voice was a rustle on the wind as she began a faint chant. I gazed into her eyes as she leaned over me, adjusting my position. Her breasts hung heavy and full like my own. Her lips were thick and lush as she softly sang out her spell. Part of me wanted to reach up and caress her, too. But she was as far away from my grasp as the Moon Mother.
After a few momen
ts she gently moved away. Trillian turned his head to look at me. “Are you sure?” he mouthed.
I bit my lip. “Yes. Are you having doubts?”
He shook his head. “Never. I feel like we’ve been together for years. I feel like I already know you, know your body.”
And then Nori returned, a second priestess with her.
“Liliabett.” The priestess introduced herself.
Between them, they carried the table with inks and brushes over to the dais. Nori held her hands over my chest and warmth rained down from her body. Liliabett did the same to Trillian. Living beacons of passion, they were desire incarnate.
After a moment, Nori said, “We’re ready to begin. Camille Sepharial te Maria, do you undergo this ritual freely, of your own will, knowing that what will be done can never be undone?”
I licked my lips. “Yes. I do swear.” My voice was a whisper on the wind.
“Trillian Leshon Zanzera, do you undergo this ritual freely, of your own will, knowing that what will be done can never be undone?” Liliabett’s voice was the perfect counterpoint, as sultry and warm as Nori’s was cool and melodic.
“I do, by my oath and honor.” His voice spiraled up and then out as if he’d never said a word.
“Then we begin.”
Nori narrowed her brow, focusing on me as she lifted a fine-tipped brush and dipped it into a silver paint pot. With a steady hand, she began to trace an outline on my forehead, a swirl of glyphs, fine-lined and delicately fashioned. I closed my eyes as she worked, line by line covering my face.
The tracing tickled, but I remained perfectly still as she worked her way down my neck, leaving a trail of runes that sang as they touched my skin. Magic, her art was, and magic was the paint.
Onto my shoulders, working in silence, she deftly covered me. And then to my chest, making me suck in a quick breath as desire rose fiercely. She stroked my nipples with the tip of the brush, then the curve of my breasts, the undercarriage and down to my torso.
I began to drift, the rhythmic kiss of the brush lulling me into an erotic haze. The bristles flickered over my stomach, then down to my thighs and across my mound. She gently nudged open my thighs and spread open my labia, painting runes along my pussy and onto my clitoris. I shuddered, trying to control the hunger that flared as she touched me.
And down my legs, along my knees, encircling my ankles, she went. By the time she finished, I saw that Trillian was as covered—and aroused—as I was. The paint dried quickly, and we gently flipped onto our stomachs. The priestesses worked their way down our backsides, covering every inch of us with the silver glyphs and symbols.
When they were finally done, they asked us to stand. I gazed down at myself—a vision of silver fire on pale skin. Trillian cleared his throat. He was silver on black, the contrast incredibly beautiful. Like spun metal shining against dark velvet.
“Follow us,” Nori said, and the two women led us out of the main chamber and into a private room, in which there was a bed that sat atop a floor covered in runes. She held out a bottle as we knelt in front of her.
Liliabett reached for my hand and I offered it, palm up. She placed a silver goblet beneath my palm and with a curved blade, slashed an inch-long shallow gash across the pad. As I watched, blood spilled into the goblet. After a moment, she did the same with Trillian.
Nori poured the contents of the bottle into the goblet and a swirl of smoke rose, boiling over the rim. She held the goblet out to me.
“Take it.”
As I held the glass, she began to sing a low song in a language I didn’t understand. But her energy flared brightly. She was a shining jewel.
“Drink and bind yourself through your bodies, through your souls.”
I lifted the goblet, then glanced at Trillian. This was it. There was no going back. Before I could think about it, I swallowed a mouthful of the potion and fire raced through my body, arching me back. I would have dropped the goblet, but Nori caught it and handed it to Trillian, who tipped it to his lips and finished what was left. He shivered, clutching his arms to his chest as the pain took hold.
Nori stepped back. “And now, one thing remains to seal your union. If you do not consummate your relationship now, you will forever be half-bound, weak and hating each other. You must finish the ritual.”
She and Liliabett excused themselves from the room.
I turned to Trillian, barely able to stand, the spasms were so intense. But as I tried to sort through the pain, I realized what I was feeling was actually desire—aching, searing lust so strong that it was cramping my body.
Trillian lifted his head to look at me. Behind the veil of his sky blue eyes, I could see the primal god. The lord of the forest, the lord of the rut, the lord of the horn. He leapt to his feet and for a brief moment I was afraid, but then the cramps hit again and all I could think about was finding a way to ease the gnawing hunger.
Panting, I stumbled toward the bed and he followed, his gaze never leaving mine. As I danced to one side, he reached out and grasped my waist, his touch firm and demanding.
“I will have you,” he whispered, his voice almost a grunt.
Shivering, confused by the flurry of pain, I pulled away and he followed, grabbing my wrist to whirl me around and back me up against the wall.
“Let me in, Camille. Let me in.” His hands planted on either side of me, he leaned against me. My pulse fluttered as he lowered his lips to mine, and then we were bathed in a silver light as his tongue played over mine and he enfolded me in his arms.
We began to spin, around and around he twirled me as his chest pressed against my breasts. I gasped, trying to clear my head, then pulled him to the bed. He loomed over me, his lips seeking my breasts as his fingers danced their way onto my clit. As he stroked my fire, I cried out and grasped his shoulders.
“You’re the golden man,” I whispered. “You taste like honey, sweet and warm and rich and thoroughly fine.”
“And you’re my queen, and you taste like moonlight and starflowers and the echo of birds at sunset.”
He lowered himself to the outer lips of my pussy, setting off a string of explosions. Firecrackers sizzled one after another along my body, and all I could think about was that Trillian was about to slide his gorgeous, smooth cock into me and how much I wanted every inch of him, in every possible way.
“Fuck me,” I begged him. “Don’t make me wait any longer, please fuck me. Hard. Take me hard and rough—I don’t want gentle.”
Trillian let out a guttural laugh and plunged, driving himself into my core.
Under a shower of sparks that ricocheted through my body, I moaned and shifted my hips as he picked up the pace, pumping gently at first, then grinding into me, each thrust sending me into a shockwave of pleasure.
As we rode the wave, I began to notice through the sex haze that my skin was hurting. I glanced at Trillian’s shoulder and gasped. The silver markings had begun to writhe, they were boiling like a swarm of creatures across his body and I knew that my own runes were doing the same. But the friction of our heat pulled my attention back to him.
I clung to him as he thrust, deep and hard with that silken cock of his. His skin was warm against mine, a perfect fit and in some little corner of my mind, I realized that I’d never had it so good in bed, never felt the same sense of connection before.
Everybody else saw me as the rock, the anchor, or—in the case of men—just a good fuck to hook up with and leave behind. But Trillian’s eyes gazed at my soul; he was staring down at me and he was seeing me. All of me—both sides of my heritage, and he didn’t flinch, didn’t look away.
As thought began to slip away, and I came to the edge, the markings on my body began to burn. I let out a sharp cry as Trillian grunted, wincing.
“What’s happening?” I flailed, unable to stop either the pain or the rush toward orgasm. Every rune had become a flaming brand and with every move, their flames grew brighter.
“The ritual—it’s part of the ri
tual,” Trillian gasped out. “Can’t stop . . . would . . . kill us . . .”
Everything took on the color of violet fire as the magical silver on our bodies burrowed deep beneath the skin, hissing and tattooing themselves through muscle and skin. Goading me with as much pleasure as pain, they pushed me toward the edge, toward the final release.
And then I looked up at Trillian. But instead of seeing his face, I realized I was looking through his eyes at myself. The braid that had spontaneously bound us had melted into a thick cord of silver and flame and passion and lust. The beating of his heart synchronized with mine, and in that moment, I felt his spirit pass through me and back into himself. Then, in a cascade of silver fire, came release.
THE pain subsided as we lay there, exhausted. I shivered and Trillian drew the blankets up to cover us. He slid his arm around my shoulders and pulled me close. The markings had disappeared from the surface of our skin, but they were there, beneath muscle and bone, tattooed into our spirits, binding us forever.
“What next?” I asked. “Where will this lead? What’s going to happen now?”
“I don’t know,” he whispered. “I only know that you belong to me. You are mine, Camille. Even if you share yourself with others, you’ll always belong to me. I’m your alpha. I’m your mate.”
As he spoke, an image flashed through my head. A dragon circled overhead as a fox watched from below. Quickly the images came, and just as quickly, they were gone. I blinked, wiping my eyes. I was tired and spent. But in my heart, I knew that they related to the future—to our future. Just like I knew that a shadow loomed, waiting for me to discover it. And Trillian would be there to help me weather the approaching storm.
But I left all of that unsaid. Instead, I kissed him back, savoring the taste of his lips on mine. “Yes, I belong to you. And you belong to me. You saved my life, you saved me from humiliation at my boss’s hand. And I think . . . you saved me from myself.”
Etched in Silver: An Otherworld Novella Page 8