Visions of Magic a-1

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Visions of Magic a-1 Page 13

by Regan Hastings


  “If we don’t complete it?”

  “The mating will end and our souls will die.”

  Shea frowned, but told herself there was no choice here. She needed Torin. So they had to succeed. “I don’t remember what I have to do. What we have to do.”

  “You are remembering,” he told her firmly. “And with the mating, your mind will open as well as your body. The knowledge will come. But you must accept it. And me.”

  She stood up, and glanced at their joined hands before lifting her gaze to his again. “Tell me what to do.”

  He waved one hand and the water shut off. The resulting silence was as thunderous as a roar. Shea would have sworn she heard her own heartbeat pounding as loud as a drum. Her throat tightened and her stomach rolled with a thick mix of nerves and anticipation.

  “Come,” he said, drawing her from the shower, walking with her back to the bedroom.

  She followed willingly, anxiously. Her gaze dropped, taking in his muscular back and sculpted behind. Her senses skittered wildly as she hurried her steps to keep up with his much longer legs. In the bedroom, he stopped and turned to face her.

  There was a fireplace here, too, she thought absently, with a blaze already burning in the hearth. Shadows jumped and danced across the walls and in his eyes. Shea felt the enormity of what they were about to do settle on her shoulders.

  This wasn’t about sex.

  Or at least, not solely about sex.

  This was about taking a step toward what she was meant to be. To do. This was about undoing what she had done so long ago.

  And instantly, her mind dredged up the image of the vision she’d had hours ago. Of standing beneath bolts of lightning with her sisters, calling to the darkness. A chill rushed across her skin, pebbling her flesh with goose bumps. She remembered the taste of the fear she’d felt that long-ago night. Remembered the instant of shame, of regret that had pressed down on her. She remembered what Torin had said about atonement and how long they had all waited for this time to come. And she remembered, at last, that this man, this Eternal, was her only shot at long-sought redemption.

  She took a breath and looked into his eyes. There was so much there, she thought. So much more than she’d seen in the first terrifying moments when he’d appeared out of nowhere to whisk her away from a dangerous mob. His hand on hers tightened, pressing their palms flat together.

  “For a true mating to begin,” he said, “you must accept both me and your destiny. In the past, you held yourself apart from me. Though we shared sex, you refused the mating.”

  “Why?”

  He shrugged, though she suspected his feelings went deeper than he allowed himself to show. “At first, you wouldn’t risk sharing power. You and your sister witches clung to each other and shut out those who would have been the other halves of your souls. Then, later, it wasn’t time. The Awakening had to arrive before the mating was possible again.”

  “And now?”

  “It’s time. At last. Do you accept me?” he asked quietly, every word a benediction, a hope.

  It cost this strong, brave man to ask her to accept him and she knew it. Sensed it. But she also knew that this was the tradition he’d waited lifetimes for. Was she ready? Did she have a choice?

  If she refused him now, she risked returning to the dark place that still lived inside her. The vision she’d had earlier was still vivid in her mind. With danger. Fear. And terror. She couldn’t face this alone-and her Eternal was waiting for her. As he had been for so long.

  “Yes,” she whispered, her tone as reverent as his. “I accept you.”

  “And our past?”

  “Yes.”

  “And our future?”

  “Yes,” she said and his fingers locked more desperately with hers.

  “Do you take me as your mate? To stand beside you? To fight with you and to make right what once went so wrong?”

  She swallowed hard and felt the hugeness of the moment crashing down on her. Each of her answers to his questions had spurred heat to quicken inside her. Now those flames flashed and burned so brightly it was a wonder she wasn’t glowing. This last question, she knew, was the key to it all. To taking him as her mate. To vowing to stand and fight beside him. To trust him.

  And even as she opened her mouth to give him her answer, a part of her held back from that blind trust she knew would be so necessary. How could she completely trust him when she didn’t entirely trust herself?

  “Shea.” His voice was a demand. An insistence that they had come this far and she couldn’t back away now.

  She lifted her chin, looked him in the eye and whispered, “Yes, Torin. I accept you. I accept the responsibility. I accept the danger.”

  Flames erupted over their joined hands.

  Bright orange and yellow light danced and jumped across their skin, searing the two of them together. There was no heat. No burning, no charring of flesh. But the flames churned and flashed brighter, hotter, until at last they winked out just as Shea felt a jolt of that heat shoot through her palm. It snaked along her arm and settled in her chest in a tight knot of heat that flared with every beat of her heart.

  She sucked in a gulp of air and looked at him, startled. “What?”

  “We begin,” he said and dipped his head to claim her mouth with his.

  Hands still joined, their bodies came together and Shea arched into him. In the hearth, flames snapped and hissed as they consumed the wood stacked there. The only other sound was the wind, rattling the glass panes as if it were an entity demanding entrance.

  But for her, there was only her Eternal.

  Torin tipped her back onto the bed and she sprawled beneath him, hungry now, ravenous to have him in her, on her, under her. She wanted to feel every inch of his hard body. She scraped her hands up and down his back, along his butt, dragging her short nails across his skin. He buried his face in the curve of her neck, nibbling, kissing, tasting.

  She arched again, parting her thighs, demanding that he take notice, that he give her what she craved.

  He did. He shifted one hand to her center and thumbed her core until she was writhing and twisting beneath him. Tension radiated from her into him. She felt his sex pressing against her hip and she wanted it inside her. Wanted him locked deeply within her.

  When he raised his head, she looked into his eyes and in those pale gray depths, she read more hunger than she’d ever seen before. She thought she might burn up from the heat of his gaze and knew she wouldn’t care. As long as she could feel him sliding deep within her, she wouldn’t care about anything else.

  It was a fever now, a soul-deep ache that demanded to be fed.

  “Now, Torin,” she ordered, turning into him, trying to straddle him so that she could feel his hard thickness inside. “Take me now, damn it.”

  “Now,” he agreed and shifted, rolling her onto her back again, moving to kneel between her parted thighs. Then he paused and looked his fill of her. His hands touched her, parted her tender flesh and stroked her until she grabbed fistsful of the quilt beneath her and hung on for dear life.

  “Is torture a part of mating, you bastard?” she demanded, lifting her hips into his touch, nearly whimpering for what he was denying her.

  “It’s the hunger,” he told her in a voice choked out of his throat. “The craving claws at you. At me. Once begun, the mating will only become more powerful. More all-consuming. We will need. Always.”

  “Then take me,” she told him, rearing up off the mattress to link her arms around his neck and pull his mouth to hers for a brief, hard kiss. “Take me now and then again. But be inside me, Torin.”

  “Always,” he promised and keeping his gaze locked with hers, entered her body in one long, swift stroke.

  She screamed his name as his body claimed hers. She clung to his shoulders, his back, as he pulled her up to sit on his lap. She twisted, grinding her hips against him, taking him deeper, higher. She rubbed her breasts against his chest and felt flames quicken th
ere as well.

  That knot of heat inside her chest flared brightly for an instant and burned behind her left breast as she rode him. She didn’t care about the brief jolt of pain. It was gone in an instant and all there was, was him.

  Their gazes locked, Shea moved on him. His hands at her waist set the rhythm for her to follow. It was fast, it was hard and it was everything.

  The first stirrings of her climax tingled into life and were enveloped in a firestorm of sensation. She let her head fall back on her neck as she held on to him and continued to move, rocking, writhing, twisting, taking him as high and as deep as possible. His thickness filled her, and still it wasn’t enough. She would never have enough of him. Heart. Soul. Mind. She felt the connection between them flash into life and she knew that nothing she ever did would be as important as this moment.

  “Shatter for me,” he commanded.

  She did, instantly. Her body rocked and she called his name as wave after wave carried her over and above anything she had ever known before.

  And almost before the last ripple sighed through her system, Torin moved her, shifting her in his arms, setting her on the bed. Facedown, she braced her hands on the mattress, and knowing what he wanted, went up on her knees, lifting her hips to him.

  His big hands held her in place as he stroked his thick body back and forth across her so-sensitive entrance. Shea couldn’t believe it herself, but she needed him again. Now. The climax she’d experienced was barely complete and a fresh hunger was erupting within her.

  She moved, pushing at him, twisting her hips despite his firm grasp on her body and when she looked back over her shoulder at him, her heart nearly stopped. In the dancing firelight, he was every inch an ancient warrior. His body was golden and hard and looked as though it had been sculpted by a generous god.

  And he was hers.

  He met her gaze and pushed himself into her heat. Shea gasped and moved against him, taking him even deeper and higher than she had before. He rocked against her and she felt every stroking glide of his body light up her insides like fireworks in a black sky.

  Again and again, he claimed her, his body entering and retreating in a fast and furious rhythm that stole her breath and shut down her mind. Another orgasm shot through her and she cried out with the force of it. Then there was still more and he touched her center, rubbing his thumb across that one sensitive spot until she cried his name again and again, body shaking, trembling with the force of the climax claiming her.

  Over the roar of her own heartbeat, she heard his hoarse shout as he finally allowed himself to follow her into oblivion.

  Chapter 27

  Hours later, when hunger for actual food forced them out of bed, Shea staggered to the bathroom on wobbly legs. She had never been so completely worn out in her life. And she’d certainly never felt so damn good about it.

  Every muscle ached, every square inch of her body had been licked and kissed and touched and explored. Her mind was awash with fresh memories of what she and Torin had done to each other over the last few hours and just remembering had her wanting to do it all over again.

  When she stared at her reflection, she hardly recognized herself. Her green eyes were glittering. Her long red hair was snarled and tangled and looked as if it had grown two inches in length. How was that possible? She laughed and told herself, “Magic.”

  It bubbled inside her, the power-growing and erupting. She felt the changes happening within her and gave herself up to them. Whatever came next, she would be ready for it.

  Torin came into the bathroom and stood behind her at the mirror. One of his tanned hands slid up and down the front of her body and she leaned back into him as new desire quickened. God, would she ever have enough? Would she ever reach a point where she would be able to say, No, thanks, I have a headache? She didn’t think so. And did she want to reach that point?

  No. She really didn’t.

  She met his gaze in the mirror and saw those gray eyes swirling with passion and secrets. His mouth, that delectable, delicious, talented mouth of his, curved a little at the corners as he watched her reflection. He lifted his left hand to cup her breast and his thumb and forefinger tweaked her nipple.

  “Seriously?” she said on a half groan, “I don’t know how we’ll ever get anything done if you keep touching me like that.”

  “It has been centuries, Shea,” he whispered. “Hundreds of long, dark years while I’ve waited for this time with you. For the true mating. My hunger will not be quickly eased.”

  She felt his erection rubbing against her behind, thick and hard and soft all at once, and her eyes slid closed as she parted her thighs for him. Again. And again. She would always open for him. Always welcome his touch, his invasion.

  “Hold on to the counter,” he told her, “and open your eyes.”

  She did, unable to help herself. She stared into the wide glass and watched as he took her. He hitched her hips higher to give him entrance and she leaned over the counter to make it easier for him.

  He thrust home and she gasped with the erotic sensations swimming through her. He took her quickly, fiercely, one hand at her hip to steady her, one hand at her left breast, continuing to pull and tweak her nipple. Over and over, he pushed himself into her depths only to retreat and push forward again. He took her higher, faster than he had before and Shea watched it all happen in the mirror.

  His features tight, his gaze locked on hers, he moved his hand from her hip to her core and the moment he touched her, she shuddered. Her body clenched around his and the rippling of her muscles tightened over him, holding him to her, forcing him to join her in another staggering release.

  When she was leaning over the counter, struggling for air, he smoothed her hair back over her shoulder, and lifted her chin so that she was staring into the mirror at him. “Look, Shea. Look at your body and mine. See what is happening.”

  She did and at first, couldn’t see what it was he wanted her to. Their reflections were blurred through her passion-glazed eyes, but at last she was able to focus. She looked at his hand on her breast and narrowed her gaze as his long fingers moved over a dark spot above her nipple.

  “What is that?” She leaned closer to the mirror. Just over the dark pink areola of her breast, there was a bloodred mark. Elongated, with a slightly teardrop shape, it was almost like an oddly shaped birthmark, but she knew it wasn’t.

  “The mating brand,” Torin told her, a satisfied tone to his voice.

  She shifted her gaze to his. “A brand?”

  He shrugged. “A tattoo of sorts, then. Our bodies, when mated, create this mark. I have a matching one.”

  Shea turned around to face him and looked at his left nipple. The same dark red mark was there as well. Her fingertip stroked the edges of it. “What is it? It looks like a teardrop.”

  Shaking his head, he bent to place a kiss on the mark above her breast. “It is a flame. A single flame to mark the beginning of the mating. Over the next month, the brand will grow and expand, marking each of us as belonging to the other.”

  She belonged.

  Finally, at last, she knew where she belonged. She’d spent her entire life trying to fit in. Trying not to be the square peg in the round hole and it had never worked. There was always something different about her. Even before her aunt had shown her that their family carried witchcraft in their bloodlines.

  She took a breath and slowly released it.

  “Over the next month?”

  “Yes. The mating is slow, giving witch and Eternal time to enjoy each other and the changes that happen between us.”

  She stroked one finger across his warm, muscled chest and smiled when he hissed in a breath at her touch. “Changes?”

  “We will gain strength from each other, Shea.” His hands moved up and down her body as if he simply couldn’t touch her enough. “The brand begins it, linking our bodies and souls. As the thirty days pass, the brand will spread across our bodies and with each new flame that appears,
the bond between us will be that much stronger.” He dipped his head to claim a quick, hard kiss. “When we touch, we will be able to combine our magic to increase our joined strength.”

  “And when the thirty days are up?”

  “My heart will beat and if Belen is pleased with me, I will gain more power.”

  “What kind of power?” she asked, leaning into his hands.

  “I don’t know,” Torin admitted. “The mating is something of a secret even to us. None of us knows what will be until it’s finished.”

  “Your god didn’t give you many details.”

  “What god does?” he asked, one corner of his luscious mouth curving upward. “The goddess Danu, your goddess, was no more generous with information.”

  “Danu?” Shea shook her head and tried to think. But it was so hard with his hands on her.

  “The Mother goddess,” he told her with a shrug. “She who created witchcraft and chose the women to wield it.”

  “There is so much I don’t know,” she whispered, leaning her forehead against his chest, listening to the silence where there should have been a heartbeat.

  “I will share with you everything I know,” he promised. “But for now, you must know we have only until the next full moon to complete our mission. To find what was once hidden and get it to safety.”

  “What is it?”

  “Black silver,” he said and those two words dropped like icy stones into the room.

  Shea swayed unsteadily as images raced through her mind at his words. A dark element created by witches, she thought. Black silver was imbued with power that had grown quickly and completely out of control.

  “The Artifact,” she whispered, not sure where that word had come from.

  “Yes,” he said, stroking his fingertips along the side of her breast. “You remember?”

  She shook her head, frowning as her mind turned away from the memory. “No. Not really. It’s just that when you said ‘black silver,’ I got a flash of something-but it was gone too soon for me to grab it.”

 

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