by Shea Godfrey
Jessa took a clumsy step to the left as she sidestepped her fallen chair and let out a slow breath of air in reaction to the Cha-Diah majik that rushed her senses. “Darry…don’t come any closer.”
“Do you think it was easy for me to not kill him in that moment?” Darry turned about the curve of the table as she advanced. “To let him go free, even for a heartbeat, after he had struck you? What did you think would happen, my love?”
Jessa remembered her thoughts within the throne room. Seal your fate…
“What did you think would happen?” Darry asked again.
“That he would die for his actions,” Jessa answered. Her blood moved apace as her body reacted to Darry’s, the pulse of her desire instant and wonderfully intense. She could feel her nipples chafe against the fabric of her blouse. “That he had sealed his fate.”
“Since the moment I picked up your fallen shawl, my first, best duty has been to protect you. And it doesn’t matter that you can break a man’s bones with a whisper, or steal hellfire from the mouth of your gods. It doesn’t matter that I exhaust every last drop of my power making you spend your spirit, over and over, and over again.”
Jessa bumped into the wall with a start and her right hand went out, her fingers splayed flat upon Darry’s chest. The heat from her lover’s body poured into her, and she let out a moan as Darry heeded the boundary, at least for the moment.
“It does not matter that I make you come until I pass out cold, as weak as the day I was born. It does not matter that you will lie awake, staring at the ceiling and wanting more. Your majik is more than mine, I know this.”
Jessa licked her lips as her eyes found Darry’s mouth. Slowly, she fisted her hand in Darry’s shirt. “I could not take more,” she admitted in a breath of words. Her breasts ached and her flesh throbbed with need.
“My duty shall always be to protect you, whether you need it or not. I cannot help this.”
Jessa nodded as her body eased back against the wall. Her blood was decidedly hot and the stones were a cool relief, even through her clothes. “Darry, please…”
“Please what?”
Jessa’s right knee came up slowly as her thighs pressed together. She caught her breath and bit her lower lip as the muscles between her legs clenched.
“Please what?”
“I don’t know.”
“Do not infringe my honor…not you, Jess.”
Jessa looked up. “Not ever, Akasha.”
Darry slowly pulled the blouse free from Jessa’s skirt, the silk fabric like the soft breath of a dream as it moved against Jessa’s skin. Strong fingers undid the buttons with care, and then Darry was against her, their bodies pressed close as Jessa was trapped against the wall.
Darry pushed her face in Jessa’s hair and her lips claimed a kiss just below her left ear. “I love you.”
Jessa took hold of Darry’s trousers and pulled, her need answered with firm, slow thrusts. Darry’s strong hands were upon her breasts then and Jessa’s head tipped back as they were taken captive and toyed with.
Darry took a nipple into her mouth and Jessa cried out as Darry sucked upon the tender skin. Darry’s teeth grazed and her hips pressed and Jessa’s hands went in search as her head dropped forward. “Akasha…”
Jessa dragged her face along Darry’s neck as they moved together, and she answered each movement with one of her own. She was moments from spending her spirit and it sent her mind into a swirl of anticipation and frustration both. “You should’ve…you should’ve done this that night—”
Darry’s open mouth closed over hers and they kissed.
Jessa tasted life within their union, and Darry’s tongue was insistent, as hot and sweet as summer honey. Jessa tried to pull closer, her breasts sore and heavy with the tease of fulfillment. She wrapped her arms about Darry’s neck and her mouth opened wider. Darry’s thrusts became more urgent and her hand slipped between their bodies, her fingers pushing beneath the waist of Jessa’s skirt.
“That night in the stables…” Jessa managed, her lips inflamed and wet against Darry’s.
Darry caught a breath. “I’m doing it now, my love.” Darry’s fingers slid through the soft hair between her lover’s legs, and her own need reacted to the hard arousal and swollen folds that waited. Jessa pushed against the advance and the heavy ache between Darry’s own legs deepened.
The abundance of Jessa’s spirit upon her fingers fairly burned, and her breasts ached to be touched. She needed the feel of her lover’s flesh against them. “Unbutton my shirt,” she insisted, unwilling to wait.
Jessa took hold of Darry’s tunic with quick hands and pulled her close. She cried out against Darry’s mouth and bit her lip. There was a sting to it but Darry smiled, for in that moment, she knew that Jessa was helpless to stop. It was a thrill to know she could cause such abandon, and a deep quiver of pleasure shook through her loins. “I want my breasts on yours…when you come.”
“Hurry then!” Jessa responded with a desperate breath and yanked Darry’s tunic open. The buttons popped from their threads and clattered to the floor.
Darry leaned in and her blood soared as her most urgent desire was fulfilled. Jessa’s body was always so hot against her skin, and the satisfaction she received from this particular connection could not be measured. There was a twinge of pain down her side as Jessa’s arms wrapped around her neck, but it was there and gone as her blood rose in defense.
Jessa came hard upon the next stroke, her hands within Darry’s hair as their foreheads pressed together. Jessa’s touch when she spent was unique, and Darry felt the jolt of her lover’s power move down her neck and bleed through the muscles of her back. The sensation was akin to sunlight and its warmth raced beneath her skin, the fevered tendrils of Jessa’s majik searching out the panther. Darry cupped Jessa’s sex and messaged her with a firm hand.
“You promised…you would tell me first, Akasha,” Jessa said in a breathless voice and then kissed her.
Jessa’s tongue was sweet, but there was a fullness beneath it that made Darry think of her favorite dark-tree spice. Her senses had become richer since Hinsa had left the maze, and she could almost feel the colors of her desire, reds and molten golds with swirls of black smoke chasing through both. She met Jessa’s sable eyes as she slipped her hand free and took her by the hips.
Darry pressed her against the wall. “I didn’t think,” she answered and her voice was somewhat strained. Her sex throbbed with the most delicious pain, heavy and thick with longing. “I’m sorry.”
The kiss Darry received in answer was open and aggressive, the pleasing awareness of Jessa’s full breasts against her own pouring Darry’s thoughts into a realm of singular purpose, in a distinctive arc of bliss. “I want…your mouth on me,” Darry said as their lips clung together. Jessa’s hands tightened within the curls of her hair. “I want your tongue.”
Jessa’s face was flushed and her dark hair was scattered. “Yes.”
They turned toward the bed, and before Darry could orient herself properly within the room, she was lying upon the huge feather mattress and sinking into the quilt. She felt Jessa’s hands upon her body, and she closed her eyes as she tried to steady her breathing. The Vhaelin sunlight that was Jessa’s passion flowed through the muscles of her legs, sensuous and pure like a river of the finest silk.
Her trousers and undergarments were pulled off, and Jessa, too, was naked as Jessa slid her body between Darry’s legs. Jessa’s stomach stroked Darry’s sex and Darry’s muscles clenched as her hips lifted in response.
Jessa’s tongue was deliciously wet upon her skin, and Darry moaned at the feel of it. Her left hand opened within the thickness of Jessa’s hair, and then closed tight at the base of her neck. Jessa’s sunlight turned smoky as it came to life and pooled into a ball of heat within Darry’s fist. She would hold it for as long as she could, but she had already learned that such a captive could not be held for long.
Jessa toyed with Darry’s left ni
pple, circling with her tongue and flicking the tender skin until it was raised and hard, and then her lips closed upon the flesh, sucking it into her mouth. Darry arched beneath her and moaned.
The sunlight burst beyond the strength of Darry’s legs as Jessa’s hips thrust against her, and Darry cried out, the sound ripped from her throat. The Vhaelin light rushed within her loins and swirled in a never-ending spiral about her pleasure, stroking and then tightening. Expanding, pulsing and alive, as it filled her with its essence.
She spent amidst a rush of overwhelming sensations. Her legs tangled about Jessa’s, her muscles clenched tight and then reaching out. The sleek, feminine strength of Jessa’s shoulders as her back rolled and she moved with purpose. The heady taste as their mouths joined, and their tongues mating as she tried to breathe and cry out at the same time. Her panther’s blood rising, pounding through her veins and then leaping free as Jessa’s majik fell back beneath its rough, untamed power.
They moved as one as Darry tightened her embrace, and Jessa came with an aching cry that matched her own.
*
Jessa nestled in the curve of Darry’s right side, Darry’s arm lax upon Jessa’s thigh as Jessa ran her hand upon the smooth skin of her lover’s stomach. Even in sleep, the muscles of Darry’s abdomen were raised and pronounced in their strength. Her bruises were many, and Jessa’s heart beat fast at the sight of them, her thoughts better suited to their current situation than they had been several hours ago. Darry’s right shoulder was bruised and it bled down beneath the skin to her ribs and the outside of her breast, Jessa’s touch but a whisper upon the wounded skin.
The burn upon Darry’s jaw from a garrote, she had said, was almost gone, what was left of the minor wound but a scrape. Her forearms were littered with small bruises, both slight and deep, though each one had been a blow taken.
She lifted Darry’s left hand and studied the palm.
The wound marking her separation from the Durand line was still pronounced, but it did not bleed, the precise cut closed with a seal of old blood and new skin that was both flexible and thick. The hand healed differently though, and with the power of Hinsa’s blood, Jessa had no idea what Darry’s body might do to recover its strength.
Your majik wastes very little time, Akasha.
She touched the edge of Darry’s poultice and the resin used to hold the bandage in place lifted with little effort. Just below the dressing there were scratches upon the black-bruised skin, fresh marks she had made herself at some point during their lovemaking.
Jessa let out a hard breath at the dark mixture of yarrow root and fresh blood that stained her fingers.
Her hand became a fist and she closed her eyes as she remembered how she had tightened her embrace and writhed brazenly against her lover. She had lost track of how many times she had come, once Darry’s blood had taken over and the Vhaelin had responded, and when Darry’s touch had been so deep inside her, she had felt a glorious lack of restraint, one that she had become lost within, and joyfully so. They both had, for Jessa had let the panther have all that she wanted.
Radha’s words were harsh within her head. You must mind the strength and the nature of the animal that is within her and have a care when her power is high. The panther is a wild creature, always remember that. Do not ever forget that, Jessa, or you may both regret it…
Tears slipped free as she opened her eyes.
“It is hard to see a weakness, Akasha, when it wears the clothes of so much strength,” she whispered and shifted upon the ruined covers of their bed. Darry’s lips were soft beneath her own and she kissed them with exquisite tenderness. “And though I shall do nothing that threatens your honor, my love, I am more than within my rights to enter the fray beside you.”
*
Darry stood before the tent and knew that she was expected to enter.
The night air was cool and crisp and the grass was thick about her legs. The smoke that rose from the center of the tent smelled of birch wood and sage, though there was something just beneath it that she could not name. It was the earth, perhaps, for its presence was ancient and indifferent.
She looked down and her feet were bare, her faded trousers much too worn and far too long without her boots. Her tunic was soft and almost threadbare, as if she had put it on years ago and forgotten to change it. She felt the material and she did not recognize the texture, or the color, for that matter. Perhaps it had been red once, though now she could not say.
The skin of the tent was heavy and clean, the light from within muted and somewhat eerie in the night. Shadows danced across the surface, but she sensed no movement from within, and so she glanced over her shoulder.
The moonlight was her only companion, and in the far distance there was but the horizon, the sky not quite as black or as thick as the earth beneath it.
She had never seen these stars in her life, or so many. The city of Lokey never seemed to sleep, and there was always the play of light from somewhere.
Nights upon the Zephyr could compare, and Darry felt peace at the memory of her time as a seaman upon her father’s fastest ship. At times the sea was so still that she could name the constellations upon the water, an endless deep of blackness but for the deck she stood upon. She had sometimes lifted a hand to the sky, while on the crow’s nest, on the midnight watch, though she caught no stars in her grasping hand. The turn of the distant clouds and the white fire of stars that burned hot and raced across the dome of the world had lulled her soul into a sort of peace, and she had welcomed it. It had been a peace she had never known before those moments, and the serenity had only haunted her since its loss.
She had named the loss loneliness, which she had never felt upon the Zephyr, and her memories of those nights at sea had followed her for years in her dreams. As she stood beneath a sky just as vast and filled with mystery as the skies above the Sellen Sea, she understood how very wrong she had been. She had been homesick for something she had no name for.
She walked to the tent and pushed the flap aside, the light from the fire so bright she felt as if she had stumbled into the sun.
“Give it a moment…”
The timbre of the quiet voice was rough, as if perhaps it had been broken once upon an age and never quite recovered.
Darry closed her eyes, let the tent flap fall shut behind her, and stood still within the warmth. It washed over her skin like a quilted blanket and her body gave a pleasing shudder. When she opened her eyes, the sun had settled into dusk and she was surprised at how small the fire actually was.
Darry followed the familiar sound of a blade pushed upon a whetstone, and her eyes found the source of the voice.
The woman was dressed in soft buckskin and sat cross-legged upon an open bedroll, the sword she held as bright as a star as its edge caught the firelight. Her dark blond hair was long and thick, falling onto her shoulders, braids and beads peppered through its loose curls. When she looked up, Darry noted at once the long scar that ran down the left side of her face.
Her feet were silent as she walked around the fire, the soft rugs upon the ground like clouds beneath her feet. She sat easily beside the stranger, and though she did not know why, she felt no embarrassment as she reached out. The woman closed her eyes as Darry’s right hand touched her face, and Darry trailed her thumb along the scar. Darry was graced with a sweet smile in answer and a firm hand at the back of her neck that pulled her forward.
The woman placed a gentle kiss upon Darry’s cheek. “Let me see your eyes.”
Darry obeyed and met the woman’s gaze.
Her left eye was bright amber in color, not unlike the inner flames of the fire beside them. Her right eye was a deep brown, lush and warm like the earth of the Lowlands after a warm summer rain. Intense heat within both took the breath from Darry’s lungs.
“I never thought to have a child,” the woman whispered, and her eyes filled with so much affection that Darry was instantly overwhelmed. “But I see my Hashiki did not forget.�
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Darry awoke with a start, her eyes wide as she tried to adjust to her surroundings. Her heart was pounding and she felt the smooth tracks of tears against her temples. “Jess?”
She stretched beneath the quilt, the fabric soft against her naked skin, the twinge of hard pain in her side there and gone, though an ache remained. She felt quiet within the afterglow of their passion and her heart was satisfied, even though Jessa was not lying in her arms. The bed was still warm, though, so she could not have gone far.
While she waited for Jessa to respond to her call, her eyes drifted and lost focus, her lids heavy and still full of sleep. Her exhaustion filled her to the edge like the wind within a sail, determined as it pushed her once more toward a sea of stars.
Chapter Sixteen
“Princess, are you here?”
Jessa stepped from beneath the lowest curve of the spiral staircase, her gaze clear as she watched Jacob Durand close the door to his secret study beyond the Queen’s Library. The single lamp upon the desk shone forth into the darkness and made his red hair glisten as he locked the door, the Prince of Arravan handsome beneath a fleeting crown of flames.
She had been waiting for almost an hour, and she had used the time wisely. She had played the pieces and she had moved them upon the board as Radha had taught her. She had looked into the future as far as her mind could reach, and then she had looked again from another angle. She had sat upon the bed with her eyes closed and played game after game after game.
The secret study still held a scrap of Darry’s essence beneath the dry parchment of endless scrolls and the cold ache of stone, though it was not a thing that just anyone might notice. They had made love in this room for hours upon end, and Jessa still felt those moments deep within her flesh. It had been here that she had first felt the passionate touch of another, and she would always cherish the memory. To have finally tasted the addictive power of Darry’s flesh, and to have been held within her arms after a lifetime of longing, was a remembrance with no rival.