by CJ Brightley
She stared at him, and he gazed back, relaxed and smug and certain. His arms closed around her and pressed her even closer. His eyes focused on her lips and his head bent, but sudden panic overwhelmed her, and she struggled to get away. He let go, but grudgingly, his hands sliding along her arms and trying to clasp her wrists before she twisted them from his grip. Larine backed away, her legs rubbery and her head swimming with confused, conflicting impulses.
“What’s wrong?” Shiar reclined against the stones of the tower and folded his hands behind his head, a half-smile playing around his lips.
“Nothing. I just—I didn’t expect—”
He shrugged and quirked an eyebrow. “But you liked it, didn’t you?”
The terrifying thing was, she had. A big part of Larine wanted nothing more than to throw herself back into his embrace and find out what his lips felt like against hers. For the moment, caution held her back, but she wasn’t entirely sure why she was resisting. Surely she had nothing to fear from Shiar. “Maybe.”
A sultry grin spread across his face. His eyes traveled over her body. “I certainly did.”
Larine felt as if her tunic and breeches had gone transparent and his hungry gaze was devouring her naked flesh. She stepped back, wrapping her arms around her chest. Desperate to divert his attention, she jerked her head up to indicate the boundary stone towering above them. Her voice sounded high and breathless in her ears. “It’s even bigger than it looked from the beach.”
His smile told her he knew very well what she was doing, but he pushed to his feet and came to stand beside her, slinging an arm around her shoulders while he tilted his head back to look. His fingers massaged her upper arm. “They had to make it big, so it could be seen from a few leagues out.” He gave a scoffing laugh. “Don’t want the children to wander off and get lost.”
She gaped at him. “What do you mean?”
Shiar released her and strode to the base of the tower. He surveyed it for a moment, his expression calculating, then reached for a gap between the stones. He climbed swiftly and surely, his hands and feet finding easy purchase. His voice floated down. “You don’t really believe there’s anything to be afraid of out there, do you?” Larine’s heart clutched as he waved extravagantly toward the shore and ocean beyond the stone.
She considered calling Flutter so they could catch him with the Mother’s power if he fell, but she didn’t want her familiar to see how close they were to breaking the Law. “Of course there is. Haven’t you read the Histories? Our ancestors escaped enemies who were trying to destroy them. Staying within the bounds of Tevenar is the only thing that lets the Mother keep us safe from them.”
Shiar snorted. “They’re only people. If they even exist.” He resumed his progress upward. “It wouldn’t surprise me if the Histories are nothing but made-up stories, created to keep the people of Tevenar obedient to the wizards.” He resumed his progress upward.
Larine stared at him. She winced when his foot missed its hold and scrabbled at the stone before finding purchase. “You can’t mean that.”
He paused to grin over his shoulder. “You should climb up here, too. The view is amazing.”
“I’m not crazy!”
He laughed and pulled himself up the last few feet to the peak of the tower. “Oh, come on, this is nothing. Much easier than climbing the rigging.” He braced his feet and straightened, spreading his arms wide. “It’s like being on top of the world.” A gust of wind whipped his hair and he swayed.
Larine clamped her hands over her mouth to stifle a scream. Maybe he was just teasing her, but maybe he truly was about to lose his balance. She really should call Flutter.
Shiar twisted to look down at her. When he was sure she was watching, he made a sweeping gesture, extending his arm well past the narrow pointed stone that capped the tower. “Just look at all that unexplored coast. And the ocean beyond. We could go there, you and me. Who cares about a stupid law that doesn’t serve any purpose? Come with me, and I’ll take you farther than anyone’s been for generations. The whole world could be ours.”
“Get down from there.” Larine clenched her fists. “You’ve got to stop. Otherwise I’m going to have to call Flutter and make you.”
He pulled his arm back, but instead of climbing down he maneuvered around the peak, stopping only after his whole body had crossed the plane into forbidden territory. He grinned down at Larine in taunting challenge. “Go ahead. Call your bird and drag me back.” He crossed his arms and lifted his face to the wind.
Indecision tore Larine. Her responsibility as a wizard was clear, but still she hesitated. He was so strong and bold and defiant, standing unafraid at the edge of the unknown. She wanted to laugh in delight and clamber to join him. She wanted to take his hand and race recklessly north, leaving rules and restrictions behind. She wanted to feel his lips on hers and his hands on her body. She didn’t want Flutter watching them with the Mother’s eyes, judging and condemning.
Shiar held her gaze for a long moment more. Eventually he raised his eyes to scan the sky behind her, his expression pleased but unsurprised when he found it empty. “I didn’t think so.”
“Please,” Larine begged. “Come down. Stop pushing.”
“But I like pushing boundaries.” Shiar cast a final longing look over his shoulder and lazily reached for a lower foothold. “Then again, I can hardly refuse when you’re begging me to come to you.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
Shiar ignored her and quickened his pace, swarming down the rocks at what seemed to Larine a reckless speed. Her heart raced. She tried to believe it was only because of his danger, but as he descended without mishap she knew it was also in anticipation of what he’d do when he reached the ground.
He chose a path that took him down the seaward side, along the invisible line that bisected the tower. His feet hit the ground just beyond the border. He stepped away from the tower and extended an inviting hand to Larine. “What are you going to do? Come with me? Or haul me back?”
Her steps dragged, but she couldn’t resist his pull. She stopped just out of his reach. “I can’t cross the border. Flutter would break our bond, and I’d deserve it.”
He inclined his head. “Then I guess you’ll have to persuade me to cross back.”
“Please.” Larine reached out and grasped his hand.
His fingers tightened around hers, but he didn’t move. “I will if you tell me the truth. Why do you want me to step over that line?” He nodded at the ground. Nothing visible marked the border of Tevenar, but Larine could see it, cutting between her and Shiar like the wall Dabiel had described.
“Because you’re breaking the Law. Because I don’t want to have to drag you back by force.”
“Is that all?” He raised her hand to his mouth, never taking his eyes from hers. His lips brushed her knuckles, soft and warm. Larine swallowed.
His other hand joined the first, and he gently massaged her palm and fingers. His touch aroused a swirling rush of response in Larine. It clouded her mind and made it difficult to concentrate on his words. “Because I think it’s not. I think you want me to step across the boundary and into your arms.”
Larine couldn’t answer. He went on, soft and passionate. “That’s what I want. You’re beautiful, Larine. I can’t stop looking at you. You make me want to touch you and hold you and kiss you. And more. I can make you happy, Larine, I swear. I can show you things you’ve never seen, make you feel things you’ve never felt before. You haven’t, have you?”
Mutely, she shook her head. His eyes were so dark and intense, his voice so deep and rich, his words so sincere, and so tempting. “Let me be the one to take you there. I promise, you’ll never regret it.”
Desire rose in Larine’s throat, her heart, her gut. She thought of Hanion, but he was far away, and he’d never looked at her like this. Shiar wanted her. Hanion didn’t. Nothing bound her to Hanion except childish, one-sided infatuation. Shiar offered a real, adult, mutua
l relationship. The choice should be easy.
It wasn’t, though. Larine tried to force words past her numb lips, but acceptance and refusal jammed together and blocked her throat until she had to fight for breath. She closed her eyes and struggled to understand what she truly wanted.
Shiar drew her hand close again. She felt his hot breath caress her skin and his soft lips travel over it. She let the sensation sweep through her, testing her body’s response. She did like it. Very much. She craved more. She drew in her breath when he took the tip of one finger in his mouth and sucked it, caressing it with his tongue. For an instant it felt shocking, invasive. But that passed, and it became a welcome intimacy, hinting at deeper intimacies to come. She wanted him to continue. She wanted him to push past her boundaries, into her body and heart.
Greatly daring, she opened her eyes. His eyes were fixed on her face. They burned into hers. She dropped her gaze and gave a tiny, jerky nod.
His breath exploded out and he stepped forward, enveloping her in a crushing embrace. His hands roamed her back and neck and hair. His mouth descended on hers and his tongue thrust between her lips. The sensation was overwhelming and frightening and intensely pleasurable. Larine couldn’t think, only react. Her arms went around him and her fingers dug into his back, clinging to him, drowning in feelings she didn’t understand, but wanted to.
He pulled back and grinned at her, breathing hard, exulting and triumphant. “I told you you’d like it.”
She nodded, a bit more than before. He dipped to brush her lips, then withdrew, his expression teasing. “Tell me what you want.”
Caution was clamoring for attention somewhere in the back of her head, but the raging storm of desire drowned it out. Her voice was thick, her tongue clumsy. “More.”
“That’s what I like to hear.” He bent to kiss her again. This time he was slow, languid, holding back until frustration drove Larine to desperate, pleading whimpers. He chuckled deep in his throat and gave her what she ached for, though not quite long or deep enough to satisfy her. Then he parted his lips, inviting her inside. Greatly daring, she ventured to explore, rewarded both by new, delicious sensations and his rumble of appreciation.
Larine didn’t know how long they kissed. She only knew she hadn’t yet gotten enough when Flutter’s tentative voice broke into her mind. Ah, Larine? I’m sorry to interrupt, but Dabiel wants to know where you are. The sailors are saying we need to leave soon or it will be dark before we get back.
Smash it. Larine dragged herself away from Shiar, letting him see her disappointment but concealing it from her familiar. It’s all right. I’ll be back in a few minutes. Out loud, she said, “The others are looking for us. They say it’s time to head back to Gemgeda.”
Shiar glanced at the angle of the sun over the distant inland mountains and sighed. He stroked Larine’s hair. “I hate to admit it, but they’re right. We can dock in the dark if we have to, but we didn’t bring lanterns, so I’d rather avoid the risk.”
Her body protested when she disengaged from his embrace. He took her hand and led her back down the path. She cast a last look over her shoulder at the boundary stone, then turned to focus on the steep, treacherous trail.
Neither of them spoke until they neared the edge of the forest. Larine waited for Shiar to break the silence, but he seemed content to let things stand without further words. Her face burned, but she had to clarify what he expected before they rejoined the others and could no longer speak frankly. Maybe he’d gotten everything he wanted from her and would move on to someone else. Maybe her awkward, inexperienced fumbling had dampened whatever desire he’d had for her. Surely he couldn’t crave more private moments together with the same fierce desperation she felt.
She cleared her throat. “What are we going to do now?”
He didn’t pretend to misunderstand. “Continue where we left off, whenever we get the chance. At least, that’s what I want. Do you?”
Larine released her breath in an explosive sigh. “Yes.” She wanted to question him further, but she couldn’t find the courage.
Shiar stopped and took her hands. “Larine, I love you. You’re the one I’ve been looking for, the only one I’ll ever want. When we get back to Elathir, will you stand up with me?”
She stared at him, too shocked to speak. He touched her lips with his fingertips. “I know this is sudden. You don’t have to answer me now. Take as long as you need to think about it. But I don’t see any point in waiting. Now that I’ve found you, I never want to be without you again.”
When he released her hands, she shook her head and rubbed her eyes. “Shiar, how could it work? You’re a sailor and I’m a wizard. You’ll be gone on voyages most of the time, and I have to stay at the Mother’s Hall. We’d be lucky if we got a few days together a month.”
“We’ll make it work.” His voice was blithely confident.
Larine wanted to share his certainty, but doubts clouded her heart. He said he loved her, although she found that hard to believe when they’d only met two weeks ago. She didn’t think she loved him. Not yet. Maybe she could, in time. Surely if they loved each other they could make a marriage work despite the obstacles, but it would require a great deal of commitment from both of them. She didn’t know if either of them were capable of that.
She spread her hands. “You don’t have to do this. I’ll be happy to do whatever you want without tangling ourselves up in binding promises.”
“This is what I want.” He grinned. “Although we certainly don’t have to wait until our wedding night if you’re impatient.”
She didn’t know what she wanted. She rubbed her face. “I’m sorry. I’m confused, and overwhelmed, and scared. You deserve better than this.”
“Nothing is better than this.” He kissed her briefly and pushed through the screening line of trees onto the beach. She trailed behind him.
Flutter swooped to her shoulder and snuggled against her neck, but her familiar’s fierce affection didn’t comfort her as it usually did. Dabiel eyed her sharply but refrained from comment. The others had already loaded the boat. Larine helped Dabiel boost Buttons in. Shiar joined them; his added strength made it easy to lift the heavy pig over the side. He gave Larine a conspiratorial grin, but thankfully didn’t say anything inappropriate. Dabiel thanked him, her words curt and her voice flat. He responded with easy friendliness, nodded to them both, and went to take his place at the tiller.
Larine sat beside Dabiel on the bench in the bow where they’d ridden on the trip up. Dabiel didn’t speak until they were well out at sea. Finally, when Larine was growing uncomfortable with her silence, she abruptly asked, “Did he hurt you?”
Shocked, Larine glared at her. “Of course not!”
“Did he push you to do things you didn’t want to?”
“No!” Larine’s face got hot, remembering. “I wanted to.”
“Did he ask if you did?”
“Several times. I said yes.”
Dabiel let out her breath forcefully and her shoulders slumped. “All right. I was so worried, the way he looked at you… But I guess I was wrong.”
Larine put her hand on Dabiel’s arm. “I admit, I was nervous. And he did… encourage me. Maybe even push me a little. But he didn’t touch me until I agreed.” Not much, anyway. But she wasn’t going to tell Dabiel that. “And, Dab… it was amazing. I enjoyed it very much. I didn’t want to stop.”
Dabiel hugged her. Larine rejoiced to hear the warmth back in her voice. “I’m glad, Lar. If you’re happy, I’m happy. I’ll even try to be nice to him for your sake.”
“Thanks.” She’d better not admit the rest, but maybe she could prepare her friend to hear it when the time was right. “I’m not sure, but I think this might be a long-term thing. He really likes me, and I…” She couldn’t quite bring herself to put her feelings into words.
Dabiel stiffened and stared at her. After a moment she turned away. “Don’t rush into anything.”
“I won’t.”
<
br /> For a long time, they watched the waves slide under the hull as the sailboat sped south. Eventually Dabiel shot her a sidelong look. “You know, I always expected that someday you and Hanion…”
Larine shrugged, hiding the pang his name provoked. “He’s never thought of me as anything but a little sister.”
“Maybe not, but a few years difference in age shouldn’t matter as much now you’re both journeymen.”
Larine laughed, trying to make her voice light and careless. “He was never anything but an apprentice daydream. Besides, he and Tonia seem very committed to each other.”
Dabiel waved the comment away. “That was almost over before we left. You ought to at least talk to him before you make any permanent decisions.”
The thought twisted Larine’s bowels into knots, but she knew Dabiel was right. If she stood up with Shiar without ever seeing if there was a chance Hanion might someday return her affections, she’d always wonder if things might have been different. If Hanion confirmed she was right about his lack of feelings for her, she could marry Shiar with no doubts or regrets.
“I’ll do that. As soon as we get back.” Relief flooded her. She’d certainly continue to enjoy private intimacies with Shiar during the voyage home, but she wouldn’t let it go too far. She was an adult now, a grown woman who knew what she wanted. She didn’t have to wait for Hanion to seek her out. She could approach him and ask him outright how he felt. If she was wrong about his indifference, and he looked at her with the same sort of desire that Shiar did, she knew which of them she’d choose. But if he didn’t, she wouldn’t pine for him or wait for him to change his mind. She’d let the impossible fantasy go and embrace reality. She’d want the man who wanted her, not the one who didn’t.
The wizards relaxing around the hearth in the dining hall looked up and exclaimed in pleasure when Larine and Dabiel joined them. Master Idan and Master Tasha rose from the couch where they’d been relaxing and came to hug their journeymen. Their familiars greeted each other with sniffs and squawks. Friends dragged chairs up, brought drinks and snacks from the kitchen, and urged Larine and Dabiel to give an account of their journey.