by Ryan Muree
“But your caring for me and breaking the rules didn’t cause it.”
“I know. It turns out, you’ll try to kill yourself, regardless.” He grinned, and a few seconds passed before she finally smirked. It was such a small thing, but it meant it wasn’t over. She wasn’t walking away.
She took a deep breath. “You already know that where I come from, death is nothing to be afraid of. It’s a second chance for new perspectives and lessons, and it reminds us to live and love boldly in this life. My father would slaughter a pod of ridgebacks with his bare hands for my mother if he had to. And it’s because of love that he’d do it.” She cleared her throat. “I don’t know what you think caring about me would do, but that alone wouldn’t kill me. I’m stronger than that.”
“I know—”
“You know, but I refuse to be left to interpret every time you hold my hand. Every hug. Unzipping my suit. What am I supposed to make of that?”
He closed the small gap between them and stared down into her golden eyes. The scent of her—inky, otherworldly—passed across his nose. Just like when he’d kissed her. Just like in her raclar at sunset on the bridge to the drawing room. “I never meant for you to feel like that.”
She flattened her lips.
He ran his hands through his hair and sighed. “I want you to be happy. I want you to be the happiest person on the planet. I thought you needed me to protect you more than I needed to care… about you.” He closed his eyes and shook his head. Just say the truth. “Those little moments—the zipper, the kiss, even the hug—were what I really wanted with you. I was following the rules, thinking it would make me better at my job, all while falling in love with you for the last year… and I couldn’t say it. I couldn’t act on it. I couldn’t show you or tell you. I might have been reassigned. You might have hated me and requested someone else—”
“What?”
“I didn’t know. I was just scared of… everything. Everything except what I could do well, and all I could do well was protect you. Or I thought I could. Turns out you don’t need me. You never have.”
“That’s not true.”
“You always manage to find your way, to figure it out. I don’t know how, but the universe wants you to succeed, and I realized, sometime during this trip, that I’m content following you around and watching you do that. And that terrified me, because if that makes me happy, then I don’t deserve you.”
“Grier—”
“I should be working as hard as you, training as hard, improving as much. You want to be more than you are, and I do, too. But you’re actually doing it, and these past couple weeks have made it painfully obvious to me that I can’t help you, that I can’t be part of it. You don’t need me for any of those things. You wanted to go off and find your happiness, and I should have supported that. I should have understood right from the beginning and gotten out of your way.”
She tilted her head, her eyes locked on his. “Grier, I never wanted you out of the way.”
He grinned as the words came easier—a spring of thoughts he’d held back. “You dreaded being a Scribe, dreaded going to work. I loved it because I loved going to work with you. It was the best time of my day. I would polish my bracer and armor for hours. I’d race to your door and wait several minutes early, so I could be ready… so I could spend that much longer with you. I wanted to visit your suite. I wanted… you.”
He’d done it. He’d said it all. Maybe with some rambling, but he’d gotten it out.
She glanced down, inhaled, and looked back up at him. “Grier…” She visibly steeled herself—chin up, chest out. This was it. She was going to tell him it was too little too late. He’d lost her. “I care about you. I-I love you. You’re the only one I tell everything to. You know about my family, my home.” She exhaled and tilted her head toward the sky as if a weight had been lifted.
Heat flourished in him, growing rapidly, making his palms sweat and his cheeks and jaw flush. Like a dam breaking open, something in him had come free.
“But…” she added. “I’ve always known it wasn’t just about the rules. Breaking the rules is easy, but it’s also about your traditions and family, and those crazy lineage tablets you all keep.”
“If I don’t go along with it, I—”
“—would lose everything, I know.”
It didn’t sound right whenever it was put that way, but it wasn’t exactly wrong either. “I wouldn’t exist anymore. I’d be removed from everything I’ve ever known.”
“I know. I’ve always known that whatever we had wouldn’t be forever. And I’ve always been okay with that. I was just hoping for something—anything—even temporarily.”
“You don’t care that one day in a few years I’d have to—”
“Marry some other Keeper?” She shrugged a shoulder. “I wouldn’t say I don’t care, but I’m not naïve. I’d never ask you to give up your family and your goals forever. I just wanted you for as long as possible.”
He reached up and rested his fingers against her soft cheeks. Her eyes could swallow him whole. Her thin scar shimmered like ether. Her lips were right there again. Everything he’d wanted was right there in his hands. “Emeryss, being with you makes me happy. I want to be with you… for as long as possible.”
She leaped into his arms and pressed her mouth to his.
Emeryss delighted in the kiss, and he wasn’t pulling away. His lips were hungry for hers, and she his. He tasted like autumn in Stadhold—warm and rich; she needed more.
She pulled back no more than an inch. “You know, technically, you’re not breaking the first rule,” she panted. “I’m not a Scribe anymore.”
He smiled; she giggled. He was already pulling her up and to him, arms around her waist. He sighed, hot and moist, as his mouth opened for more.
When he set her back down on her feet, she slid her hands around his midsection, the muscle taut even under his white dress shirt, as his palms warmed her through her dress head to toe.
At some point while getting dressed for the night, she’d promised herself not to be silly and fall in love with him when she saw him in his suit, to not forget what he’d said. But as she stepped into that tent and caught his familiar shape—his eyes on her—from across the reception, that promise had nearly evaporated. And when he’d apologized, when he’d opened up and told her how he truly felt, it’d melted any doubt.
Dark suit, broad, and strong—a warrior inside and out. If he’d been nervous or unsure, she couldn’t tell. He could have worn a hand-me-down fishmonger’s jumper and still look perfect to her.
To have him here—she pulled him tighter against her—saying that he was afraid he wasn’t strong enough, not good enough…
His tongue slid over hers, and the world spun and shrank away. Dizzy and needing air, she clung to his shirt and anchored herself to him as she always had. He was more than enough, and he always had been. He’d stood by her side, willing to give his life and risk his future.
She pulled his shirt free from his trousers, and he sucked in a breath. After a brief pause and no sign of him stopping, she slipped her hands under his shirt to find the Grier underneath the armor and fears and expectations. Roaming across his back and up his sides, her fingers found mostly smooth skin with a few bumps. Scars from training? Old wounds? She wanted to explore all of him.
She had to bite her lip the moment his mouth traveled over the scar on her jaw and his tongue began a slow dance down her neck. The scar reacted to him—or something inside her did—and it tingled and spiraled out to parts of her she needed him to claim, too. Heady and swooning, her heart wanted to burst out of her chest. Air was in short supply.
His hands had made their way down to her waist, his fingers clutching the fabric of her dress. She exhaled against his cheek, nuzzling into his neck. Grier was in her arms. Grier was wanting her—wanting this.
He pulled away an inch, chest heaving and cheeks red, and swallowed. “Here? Now?” He briefly gestured at the garden an
d the dome.
She nodded and pulled his mouth back to hers. Why not? The Zephyrs would be out at the wedding, and they’d told them to hide. “Live, Grier.”
His hand immediately found the short zipper of her dress alongside her ribcage and slid it down. He then picked her up and set her on a mound of soft grass. Leaning over her, he pressed his forehead to hers. “I have to admit…” he breathed. “I never imagined us doing anything like this in a place like this.”
She lifted an eyebrow and smirked. “But you thought about us together somewhere else?”
He smiled. “Every damn time I peeked inside that tiny suite of yours.” He bent his head to take her mouth again.
If the airship had turned on, she wouldn’t have felt it. If there had been a commotion at the wedding, she wouldn’t have heard it. There was only them and their small gasps for air.
She tugged at the buttons of his shirt, her fingers trembling. About ready to tear them off like an animal, the final button gave, and her hands slid over his smooth chest—perfect shape and form.
His mouth went to her collarbone, nipping and kissing all the way down her shoulder to her hand. He put her palm against his jaw before returning his mouth to her neck.
Her breath caught as he moaned against her and the vibration of his voice rumbled through. It sounded like thunder, like need. And when his hands found her thighs under all the fabric of her dress, it felt like hunger.
She clasped her arms around his neck. She’d been starved, too, and ached for his touch. She arched against him, pressing her chest against his. His hands ran higher up her thighs, eliciting another gasp from both of them. His mouth, however, hadn’t moved from her neck, and she needed him—everywhere.
Another rumble echoed, but it was from the sky and not Grier.
His hands had worked their way up under her skirt to her bare hips. “Shit, Emeryss, are you not wearing underwear? Do you never have underwear on?”
Her heart beat out of step from its already hurried pace. She hadn’t worn underwear since Neeria. The silly black romper she had to wear under her Scribe raclar had always been enough. She hadn’t worn it under the RCA suit, either. It was a little awkward when she’d put the dress on earlier, but it wasn’t like anyone was going to notice under all the layers. She certainly hadn’t expected to be doing this.
“Um, no, because—”
His fingers dug into her hips and bottom, and he gently thrust the aching part of her against him. His own excitement nearly undid hers. He was suddenly everywhere—exactly where she’d wanted him. His mouth was at her ear, hissing his pleasure of their bodies squeezed together. Her fingers were in his hair, gripping the strands to keep him close.
She was lightning. She was fire. Her veins thrummed with need.
She’d missed the hand he’d slipped free from under her dress until it was tugging at her shoulder straps and pulling down her front dress panel. His mouth kissed down her chest to the top of her breasts.
“Grier…” It came out more like a wistful moan than his actual name.
A brilliant white flash lit the clouds, and she jumped.
“It’s just a storm.”
But which was stronger? The one inside her or the one above?
“You’re sure you want this?” he whispered.
She swallowed. “Grier, I already told you I do.”
He kissed her once, twice. His hand was firmly at her backside, keeping her up against him. “Fair warning, I’m a pretty loyal person. You’ll have a tough time getting rid of me.”
She giggled against his lips.
“And,” he added, “I tend to love with my whole heart—”
“I’m sure the commander’s daughter can attest to that, no doubt.”
He smiled wide, his white teeth gleaming at her. “I only know—”
“Can I help you out of your pants?” She feigned boredom before both their fingers flew to his belt, his button, the zipper.
All of their clothes quickly discarded and forgotten, he’d even removed his bracer. His black sigil branding was elegant and beautiful on his forearm. She kissed him there while twisting her body with his.
For now, she was his. For now, he was hers. Not forever, but for the moment.
She pulled him up to sit, wrapped her legs around his waist, and lowered herself onto him. Her whimpering gasps gave way against the dampness of his forehead.
She needed something to hold onto, to keep herself from drifting too far and losing herself too soon. Arms latched around his neck and shoulders, she wound her fingers through his hair and rocked her hips, savoring their connection, their heat.
A long groan escaped him as his lips crashed against her shoulders, her neck, her breasts, alighting her. It was the Grier she’d always wanted to know. It was the closeness she’d wanted to share with him, and the storm within her grew as the thunder and rain raged above.
“Emeryss…” He whispered her name over her skin, a silent plea for more. His hands were fire, roving over her backside to her spine and up to her shoulders, pressing her against him, body and mouth.
Every flick of his tongue and lingering shock from his fingertips drew her in until it overwhelmed her, their connection too much for her to hold back. Wave after wave, she was swept up and over the abyss before them. She shattered and cried out, and he broke along with her. Their moans and quivering pleas were lost to the thunderous clouds.
He panted against her neck, and she the side of his head, unmoving. It was too soon to let go, to allow even air to come between them. She wasn’t willing.
Let the world try to stop them. Let the world hand out consequences. For now, they couldn’t be touched. For now, it was just them.
“I-I don’t want to let go,” she whispered, barely capable of the words.
“I don’t think I could if I wanted to…” His mouth had found hers again, and he pulled her hips firmly against him.
Another blinding flash of light lit up the sky. It was so bright that they paused to watch it spider across black clouds in a slow, deliberate crawl toward Ingini.
Where was the rain? Where was the storm she swore she’d heard?
“Grier, that’s not—”
His soft smile faded. “I’m afraid we should probably get dressed.”
She nodded, and they separated and reached for their clothes. He secured his bracer first.
Her heart leaped as another arc of light sprawled out in a web across the underside of the clouds. It wasn’t natural, and dread washed over her.
His hands were suddenly at her straps and zipper, helping her pull them up. He slid her hair to the side and kissed her neck. “Do you know how long I’ve dreamed of doing this? Just this.” He kissed her there again.
She smiled and reached up to his face behind her. “Do you know how torturing it was to see you in a flight suit with a zipper and not be able to unzip it for you?”
He laughed against her shoulder. “Well, now—"
Sorry, guys… I didn’t want to interrupt. I promise I tuned to something else as soon as I realized what was happening, Sonora said.
From the look on Grier’s face, she’d said it to both of them.
Emeryss’s cheeks burned a million degrees. “Wh-what’s going on outside?”
We’ve still not located Avrist. He might not have left his ship, or it might not have even been him. But you need to know something else…
She and Grier shared a quick glance as she smoothed down her hair. “I meant about the storm.”
There is no storm.
“Yes, Sonora, there’s a storm,” Grier said. “But it’s above the clouds, like it’s upside-down.”
I don’t know. We’re still in the tent, but that’s not why I’m contacting you. The escort from Orr is coming your way. They’re coming to the ship to search for you.
“Why didn’t you tell us they were here before?” Emeryss asked.
I didn’t want to interrupt you…
Emeryss felt her
skin burn. She was positive she might be glowing from embarrassment. They headed for the doors of the observation deck and the stairwell.
But Adalai wasn’t trusting them. She’s searched their ship and found nothing to suggest they were lying or anything. We’ve tried stalling them, but we can’t anymore, and we’re starting to get attention from the guests.
“Why?” Grier asked.
They’d descended the several flights to the lowest level and headed for the door out.
I’m sorry, Emeryss, but—
Two young men in RCA uniforms opened Zephyr’s door and stepped inside. “Excuse me. Are you Emeryss, the Scribe?” one asked.
“Y-yes.”
It was no wonder Adalai didn’t trust them. They looked like teenagers.
Grier immediately put himself in front of her protectively.
“Sir,” the smaller one said, hands lifted as if to cast. “We’ve been here long enough. Stand down and move aside.”
“No.” His size and voice alone commanded a strength these men could only dream of.
“We’ve been ordered to put her on our ship and get her back to Stadhold immediately.”
“Stadhold?” she blurted. “No, Neeria.”
The heavier one tried to reach around Grier to grab her arm, but Grier’s shield exploded from his bracer, crystallized, and collided with the man’s face almost simultaneously.
The young Caster whirled back, blood spurting from his nose, and fell back unconscious into the grass.
The skinny one licked his lips. “Sir, stand down. We have no issue with you—”
“Yes, you do,” Grier said.
“We’ve been ordered by General Orr and Librarian Jgenult to bring only the Scribe to Stadhold immediately—”
“We heard you the first time, and no.” Grier stepped forward, and he stepped back. “Where’s Adalai? She’ll tell you what the orders were.”