by Lucy Smoke
I pause, mouth sucked dry. He’s right. What about the others? How could I have forgotten them? No, I didn’t forget them. He said that they are in love with me. That he is too. Though it’s wrong, I know I love them.
Booker pushes me back and rolls on top of me, a heavy weight settling over me. Now, I’m not so sure. The faces of the others are rolling through my mind as Booker kisses a path down from my neck to the middle of my chest. He stops and rests his chin between my breasts, staring up at me.
“They understand, you know,” he says, startling me.
“They understand what?” I ask.
“The dynamics of how our group is changing,” he replies with a sigh. “We aren’t quite as dense as you might think we are. We’ve talked about it—you and…us.”
I blink in shock. “And you’re all okay with that?”
He sighs and looks down, rubbing his forehead back and forth, and the ends of his hair tickle against my skin. “It’s not that simple. We’ve…” He pauses for a short period of time as if trying to form the words he needs in order to make me comprehend. “We have an understanding with each other. We’re letting things simply happen the way that they are meant to.”
“That doesn’t sound like the others,” I admit. I’m surprised Coen or Titus would even consider sharing me.
“Coen can’t protect you on his own,” Booker says as if he has read my mind. “Titus and Holden…well, they are surprisingly willing to do what it takes to be kept in your life. You could completely cut them off at the doorway to your bedroom and they would follow your direction to keep you happy.”
“That doesn’t make me happy,” I reply. “I want them to be happy too.” More importantly, I want them to be safe.
“And now you’re worried that this would hurt them.” Booker presses a hot kiss between my naked breasts when he says ‘this’ and it sends an army of shivers coursing down my stomach.
“I don’t want to hurt anyone,” I say.
Booker nods. “And Luca?”
I flinch. I don’t even know how to respond to that. Booker nods anyway, though, as if he completely understands me. We’re quiet for a long time. As his breath brushes against my nipples and my hands play over his hair slowly at first and then with more confidence, he is considering his words. Finally, he sits up and tilts his head at me. That intelligent gaze of his roves over my naked form and I itch to close my hands over my breasts and shield myself.
“May I make a suggestion?” he inquires.
Blinking up at him, I nod. Uncertainty tightens my chest.
“If you’re worried about having sex with just one of us, why don’t you think about having sex with all of us?”
“W-what?” I sputter.
“If you think about it,” he continues, “it would solve most of the internal issues we might deal with. The lust, the jealousy.”
I bite my lip. I know he doesn’t mean sleep with them all at the same time, but that’s what I picture. A tangle of bodies with me in the middle. How would that even work? I know what one on one sex should be like, but that’s just because the Holy Women of Euron thought it was important to teach. Just because they devoted their lives to charity didn’t mean they were abstinent and they understood that their pupils likely wouldn’t be either.
“Perhaps you will think about it more another night, hmm?” Booker says as he moves up to lie down at my side once more. “Get some rest, Nerys. We will sleep and tomorrow the world will be easier to deal with.”
"Wait," I say quickly. Booker freezes, staring at me expectantly. "Are you saying that...I mean, you all want...me?"
He laughs, a deep rumble echoing up from his massive chest. Laughter brightens his features, lightens his face, and makes him go from simply handsome to downright stunning. "Nerys, what did you think I meant?"
"I-I just can't believe...I mean...we are talking about me, right?"
Booker shakes his head and moves forward, closing his mouth over mine. I don't know what it is about his kisses, but when his lips touch mine, my whole body goes lax. I can't think, I can't process. With his tongue in my mouth, his scent in my nostrils, what is the rest of the world? When Booker kisses me, he is my world. And when he pulls away it's like someone throwing water over a burning log. I blink distractedly when Booker presses his forehead to mine, his eyes lowered.
"You don't see yourself the way we see you, Nerys," he whispers.
My chest rises and falls. I can't seem to squeeze enough air into my lungs. "Show me," I say.
Green eyes snap open and fixate on me. "Are you sure?" he demands, his palms coming up—fingers wrapping around my upper arms.
I know if I say yes, then there is no going back. But I want this. I don't want to regret not doing this. I need this. I nod my assent.
Booker moves over me like an unstoppable force. His mouth takes mine in a harsh fury, and his hands stroke against my skin. I moan into him as he rips his lips away, descending with mad haste. He kisses the pulse in my throat before moving on to my breasts. He cups them, squeezing lightly, looking up at me as he does.
"We see you as beautiful," he says before licking the tip of one breast. I arch my back, a gasp flying from my lips. "We see you as strong," he continues, his mouth closing over the other tip. My fingers sink into his dark hair as my legs scissor apart.
Booker's mouth lavishes attention to my breasts, stoking the re-heated flame within me. I feel a burning in my stomach, crawling south. I shake and tremble beneath his hands. He whispers words of desire into my skin. Desire for us. He includes them—I wonder if his words really reflect how the others feel. I wish I could stay to find out, but I know that this may be my last night.
I groan when Booker's mouth hovers over the apex between my thighs. Strong hands grip the undersides and pull them wide. The flames lick up over my cheeks and I cover my face with my hands. Embarrassment is short lived, however. The moment Booker kisses me in a whole new place, I can't even recall what the word means. Fire shoots up from where his mouth descends, and tremors shake my limbs. I can't control my body. In a split second, the world erupts into a dangerous inferno—so great, so magnificent, it's terrifying.
When I come back down, I reach for him and pull him up and over me. Booker licks my neck, sucks the skin into his mouth until it stings. I don't care if he leaves a mark. I want it. I want his mark. I want all of their marks.
"This may hurt, Nerys," he warns me. I shake my head, but he's already there.
He sinks into me with a long, thorough groan building in his chest. I squeeze him inside, wincing at the discomfort. It's not painful, per se, just odd. I shudder against him, squirming.
"Stop. Moving," he grits out.
I gasp as his hips pull back slightly. "Do that again," I demand.
His amusement vibrates his chest. "Will you stop moving?" I nod frantically. Anything. I'll stop breathing if he wants. I just need him to do that again. And he does.
I pant, I gasp, I moan. His hips move, slowly at first and then in a firmer rhythm. He picks up the pace as echoes of pleasure dance across my skin. I can feel the fire building again at the base of my spine. It's boiling, ready to spill out over the rest of me. When it crests, I sink my nails into Booker's back and reach for it. He's still over me as I shake and gasp into his throat.
"Nerys..." He whispers my name—a prayer, a keepsake—into my hair before sagging over me. The weight of him should be too much, but it's not. It's because, I realize after a moment, he's still holding himself up, keeping me from being crushed under his large frame. I close my eyes and savor the closeness—the vulnerable feeling of being naked with him. His skin on my skin.
He breathes deeply, and after a moment I worry he's fallen asleep like that. But then, with a lurch, he shoves up from the bed. Booker reaches down and finds something—a fallen shirt, I presume or some other sort of soft fabric. He uses it to clean me and then himself.
When Booker crawls back into the bed, he closes his arms around me. "G
o to sleep, Nerys. We'll talk more in the morning," he says.
Though a part of me doesn't want to, because doing so will mean it's almost over, I close my eyes as he does. Images trail through my brain, fast and confusing. A relationship with all of them. How would that even work?
It has been done before. I almost scream out loud at Obidian's voice. My heart races like an untamed horse in my chest.
Tell me you didn’t... I start, trailing off. My face flames red as I think of all the things he might have witnessed.
I know you do not fully believe me, he says. And you were frustrated, but I will always respect your space. No, I was not present for the rest of your…talk.
Thank the Gods.
Yes, they, too, understand the concept of multiple lovers, Obidian replies.
Wait, what? I pull myself back from my relief to realize what he’s talking about as a bulb of a memory from school lights up in my mind. Oh, you mean Ngame, Apil, and Ticab?
Yes, he replies. Ngame is the consort of Apil and Ticab, the Gods of the Sun and Earth.
So, it’s not exactly abnormal then? I inquire.
It’s not as uncommon as you would believe and it has been around for a very long time. It was around when I still had my body.
His words remind me of my original intention before Booker had distracted me, and I hear Booker’s heavy, even breathing over the side of my neck as I’m pulled back into the physical realm by the direction of my thoughts.
You still wish to do this, Obidian starts, without telling them? After everything—
It’s not their choice, I say quickly. But even as I say it, I know it’s wrong. Even a part of me wants to stop myself and scream.
Obidian will get his body, I’ll finally be free with my own powers, and he can stop Edwin and all will be well. Gods, if only worrying about my relationship with the guys was my biggest concern. I might count myself lucky if that were the case.
Slowly, I inch my way out from under Booker’s massive arm and lay it down to rest against the sheets. Obidian remains quiet as I search for my discarded clothes. I grab them up and carry them to the door with me. All will be well when this is all over. Perhaps they will be able to forgive me for deceiving them. Then we can figure out the us that Booker talked about.
It’s necessary, I think. I don't know who I'm trying to assure—Obidian or myself.
14
Fire & Ice
Every step outside of the sanctuary of the Holy Order is hesitant. My eyes are drawn backwards so many times, I feel like I spend the majority of the journey up the mountain turned completely around rather than facing forward. It's a little hard to face my possible death when the guys don't even know what I'm doing. I hate this, all of this. The secrets, the half-truths, the flat out lies.
It's true, Obidian admits. I've never felt such an intensity between potentials before.
I sigh aloud, my breath fogging up in front of my face. What is that supposed to mean?
I feel the shifting in my head—an incredibly odd sensation of shrugging internally without someone actually doing so. It makes me grimace, but I get the gist. Obidian is just spouting out ridiculous and meaningless colloquial phrases.
No, he clarifies with a bit of weariness. It's not meaningless.
Then why can't you explain it? I ask, pausing and turning to look back once more.
Because it's something you must come to understand for yourself. I can't simply give you all of the answers.
You don't give me any answers, I remind him testily.
When he doesn't reply, I bite back a seething retort. There's really no time for it anyway. The landscape is much steeper the further up the mountain I go. It takes most of my concentration to keep my footing and continue up the icy terrain. Flecks of snow flurries brush over my frozen ears and stick to my skin. If anyone were to see me out here, they might mistake me for a snow faerie.
My boots sink into the heavy snow mounds under my feet, my legs going so far down, snow slips through the tightly sewn front of my boots. I have to jerk my legs out from the snow bank entrapment over and over again, grunting with the effort. Sweat slicks the skin under my clothes.
My body begins heating up which almost makes me relax. Then I remember when, as a child, during a particularly harsh winter I watched as a homeless man in Euron disrobed completely in the street outside the Holy Women's orphanage, claiming that Apil had granted him power against the ice. He had giggled and laughed, a sound that haunted me in my dreams for months afterwards. Then after prancing about and evading every person that had attempted to bring him inside or convince him to put on his clothes, he had sat down, laughed, and fallen over, shivering and crying and laughing some more. He died that night from something the physician called "hypothermia."
If I'm getting hot now, I wonder if this is what that man had felt right before he died. My skin is so sticky, that I'm almost tricked into believing that it would feel amazing if I just removed a few layers. Reaching down, I tighten the laces on the front of my coat and pull my hood up closer to my face. The dead man's laughter echoes in my mind as I hurriedly march towards the mountain peak.
"Ngame give me strength," I pray.
The mouth of the cave is a giant gaping hole. Icicles form sharp jagged teeth over the top and I stop in front of them, ducking under quickly as I enter. Inside, the temperature levels out, not quite as cold as it had been outside, but also not warm either. Perhaps it's the lack of wind, but it makes for an eerie atmosphere.
"Obi?" Though I whisper his name, my voice echoes around the cavernous mountain cave. My shoulders jerk and shiver.
I am here, Nerys. Obidian's voice is strong and warm like fire. Knowing I'm not completely alone and, at least for the next little while, I'll never be alone, gives me the strength and courage to voyage further into the cavern.
The floor and walls of the cave are solid stone. There are gradient-like etchings as if creating a pathway that leads further down into the darkness. I take a breath and follow them. Darkness creeps closer the longer I walk and my breath comes faster as if fearing monsters will jump out at me from the shadows.
I don't trust the sudden illumination that begins to glow from around a corner, but Obidian urges me forward. Suspicious and still shivering, I follow his silent command and when I turn the corner, a stunning spring comes into view. I stop for a second and stare at the beauty of it. Outside, the wind howls. I can't hear anything because I'm so focused on the Spring of Queen Jiang's tears. A piece of the moon goddess is in this cave, so close for me to touch. Something that I will touch.
Obi, how exactly are you going to bring me back? I ask as I stare across the stone floor at the silent and still pool of water.
Do you remember what happened when you and Holden were attacked by those bounty hunters? he asks instead.
I blink, confused by the question, but I nod anyway.
When you sink beneath the water, at the last second before I exit, you may feel the same heat beneath your skin.
Will it burn me? I ask. If your spirit is coming out, will you burn me?
No, Nerys. I won't burn you. Until the moment of separation, we are still one and anything that I can do with my powers will not harm you.
Tears burn at the back of my eyes and my feet are rooted to the spot. What if I stay dead when you come for me?
I will not let that happen, Nerys.
Obi, you're not a God, you can't stop it if it happens.
Trust me, Nerys, Obidian says. I can feel his warmth spreading through my mind and my limbs. It's different than the frightening warmth I felt outside in the snow; it's concentrated, like fingers trailing over my arms and down, like hands gripping my own. The Gods have asked you this favor, but I will ensure that you do not have to suffer more than this. I will ensure you return to your potentials.
I stare at the shallow pool of foggy, white water. Chills dance up and down my spine. With a deep breath, I begin to remove my clothes. I drop my cloak and shir
t together along the rocks at the edge of the pool and then bend to remove my pants as well, untying the leather knots along either side of my hips until they drop to my feet.
It will be okay, Nerys, Obidian says. His tone is nervous, albeit a bit excited. He's both terrified of hoping for the best and of receiving the worst.
"I won't die," I say aloud. "I will survive this." I say it as a command for myself and I repeat it over and over, hoping that putting it out there in the unseen Divine realm will ensure its truth.
When I'm in nothing but my underwear, I slowly move towards the water. Though there's visible steam hovering over the surface of the water, as my feet touch the liquid, I find that it's not hot. If anything, it's unnaturally cool. So cold that there should be ice forming on the sides of the rocks that flank the spring.
My hands tremble as I lower the rest of my body into its depths. An angry rumble bangs and charges the sealed doors of my mind, causing my trembling to increase exponentially. My heart rate picks up as the freezing water cuts across my skin. I pause before sinking the rest of the way in and take a breath.
They know, Obidian warns me. They sense your disappearance.
That didn’t take long, I reply. It doesn't matter now. They can’t stop me.
Even if they were right outside the cavern, there would be no way for them to stop what I've set into motion.
...and yet, I can't stop trembling.
It's natural to be afraid, Obi says.
Remind me again what will happen, I reply as I hover just before complete submersion.
Obi's gentle tone relays the process of separation with a cool and exact tone. You will sink into the pool and the water—Queen Jiang’s tears—will stop your heart, entering you into the realm of Necrosis.
Once you are in Necrosis, stay on the beach. Do not leave, he says. There may be a woman who comes. If you leave with her, even I will not be able to reach you again.
Okay, I reply. Don’t talk to strangers. Got it.