“You were right, I am famished,” he declared.
They made their way back upstairs, and Strelzar instructed her to sit by the fire, while he rang a bell that she presumed alerted the kitchen. He joined her, flopping down onto the thick, soft animal hide rug that lay in front of the fireplace. Within moments, a servant hurried into the room and presented them with a bottle of wine, two glasses, and a large tray full of cheeses, bread, and cakes. They ate and drank in silence, but he never took his eyes off of her.
“You have not asked me about my student again, but I know you have not forgotten why you came,” he said quietly after he had eaten his fill. He filled her glass with more wine, and she took it from him, gulping the warm, dizzying liquid down. “Do you no longer wish to know?” he asked.
She shook her head, and took another drink, then set her glass down on the tray. “I do wish to know.”
“Then ask me,” he taunted.
“Where is Cadit Ohren?” she asked.
“Sorry, what was that? You will have to come closer,” he teased. “Ancient ears,” he jested.
She leaned in toward him.
“Where is Cadit Ohren, Master?” she repeated, knowing full well he could hear her, and he heard her the first time, too.
“Blast the infernal racket of this fire!” he uttered dramatically with a grin on his face. “Did not catch a single word of that. Apologies, Birdie.”
Veria crawled the distance between them and perched herself in his lap. He instinctively grabbed her by the waist, and she lowered her lips to his ear. “Can you hear me now?” she purred.
“Oh, yes, perfectly,” he moaned.
“Where is Cadit Ohren?” she repeated a third time, then pulled her head away from his ear so she could look him in the eyes.
She slid farther into his lap, curious as to whether or not he was ready for her, and his growing arousal rose to meet her.
“What will you do to him if you find him?” Strelzar asked.
“Just ask him some questions,” she whispered, innocently.
“You came here to ask me questions,” he pointed out.
“I am not going to be as nice to him,” she stated.
“That is what I am afraid of.”
“I thought you wanted everyone to know how powerful I am,” she pouted facetiously. “If he killed my father, I think he should be the first to know.” She pressed herself into him and he groaned.
“Revenge is a waste of your talent,” he argued.
“It is not revenge,” she whispered. “It is truth, and justice.”
“Interesting,” Strelzar muttered, “you seemed pretty fond of revenge down in the magma chamber.”
“Just tell me where he is, Strelzar,” she said.
“You are not going to like it,” he said.
“Just tell me,” she repeated.
“Last I heard from him, he had taken refuge with Tal'lean separatists,” he divulged, repentantly.
“Thank you,” Veria said.
“You have what you want now,” he said softly, taking one side of her face in the palm of one of his strong hands. “Are you going to leave?”
She shook her head, and shifted in his lap, causing him to gasp and his body to tense. “I have some unfinished business,” she whispered.
He wasted no time responding to the cue, sliding the silk gown over her head in a swift and fluid motion. Pulling her face into his, he fed on her lips as if they were another sweet cake from the tray. Flames filled her body as the soft skin of her chest fell against the hard plateau that was his. “Do what you wanted to do to me during the lesson,” she whispered through ragged breath.
He shook his head. “I have more faith in your talent than I do your physical resiliency,” he teased.
“Fine,” she conceded, “then what did you want me to do to you?”
He laughed with delight. “I want us to bend the iron candelabra that you threw at me yesterday into a set of restraints with which you will secure me to the ground.”
“You have thought this through,” she remarked. “And then what happens when you are secured to the ground?”
“And then you do whatever you want, as I promised earlier.”
She stood slowly, and placed a foot on the cold cavern floor. She found the energy of the iron, and pulled it slowly toward them.
“Just like the wall,” he instructed. “I heat it, you harden it.” She nodded.
They worked like blacksmiths, but without their hands. The iron began to smelt and fold, fire devouring it from the inside, and Veria would let it round and curve before solidifying the metal. After several minutes, they had produced a long thick bar with two contours for his wrists.
“You are sure about this?” she asked, taking the restraint bar in her hand.
He laid flat on his back, and let his hands fall above his head, just off the large rug.
“Fuse it to the ground,” he said.
So vulnerable, she thought. He had let her hear his deepest desires, entrusted his body and mind to her during their lesson in the magma chamber, and now, here he lay, waiting for her to restrain him to the floor, just moments after he was worried she would leave. How did he know she would not lock him up and flee?
But she knew the answer to her question. Because he could hear her desires, how severely she wanted him, how she was considering never leaving the satisfying heat of his volcanic den, how she wished that he had not put up that barrier earlier or made her leave this room in the first place.
Focusing on the energy of the iron bar, she maneuvered it toward him, until the curves settled over his wrists. The middle and side sections of the bar became pocked with orange embers, and she hardened the metal, melding with the rock beneath, so the bar secured to the chamber floor.
He tested it, and it held.
“Would you help me out with the remainder of my clothing, love?” he asked. “Bit tied up at the moment,” he humored.
Veria got on her knees at his feet and removed his pants as slowly as she could. His breathing quickened in anticipation. She crawled over his body, her arms and legs on either side of his flawless, chiseled frame.
“Not yet,” he said, as she was about to lower herself onto him. “You are holding onto something.”
“I am not,” she argued.
“Anger. You are angry with me,” he stated.
She did not respond, remembering vividly how she had wanted to make him feel the unfulfilled desire she had experienced earlier, and how that was the tipping point of her gaining control over him in the lesson.
“Let it out,” he whispered.
Grabbing him by the hair, she angled his head back. “We are already even on that account,” she said, sitting on his body, but not allowing him entrance. “The desire was the punishment.”
“Then why are you still angry with me?” he asked.
“I thought you found me irresistible!” she shrieked, pounding her fists into his chest. He arched his back, and moaned complacently.
“I do,” he said.
“Then why the resisting?” she demanded.
“You think that was easy?” he rebutted.
She did not want to hear it, and she slapped his face. There was nothing he could do, so she hit him again. A roguish grin split his lips.
“Let it out,” he said.
“I should not have needed that ridiculous rock to make you want me like that!” she yelled, clawing at his chest. He writhed underneath her.
“Trust me, you do not need any help,” he said.
She rose slowly to a stand, and backed away from him several steps.
“Not that,” he groaned.
She reached up to her hair and pulled at the clip that held it in place, until it came loose, and all of her golden locks fell over her body.
“Alright, I understand what you are doing, Birdie,” Strelzar muttered. “Now get down here.”
She ignored him, picking up the black nightgown off the floor and starti
ng to pull it back on.
“Veria....” he warned. “That is enough.”
“Such a predicament that you are bound to the floor,” she remarked, shaking her head.
“Stop torturing me,” he growled, “or I will light that article of clothing on fire, too.”
She tossed it into the fire herself, and backed away another step. He roared furiously, his naked body twisting in agony on the floor.
With little time for her to react, Strelzar ignited the restraint into liquefied metal, and broke it into embers that scattered across the floor like hot shards of glass. He jumped up and hurtled towards her, lifting her off the ground with his ample arm strength and throwing her onto the bed. She gasped as he pinned her down with his body over hers.
“This is what you wanted?” his voice rumbled, his face inches from hers. She nodded. “Fine,” he said. “But I did warn you.”
She cried out as he embedded himself in her, but he left little time for vocalization when he set his assault on her lips. She had waited for him, her entire body anticipating this exact moment for hours, yet she still could never have imagined the ecstasy she felt now as he claimed her the way they had both yearned for.
They fell into rhythm for only a moment, before Veria wanted more, and shifted underneath his body in agitation, trying to accommodate more of him. He grabbed her hips and, finding the right angle, filled her completely, sending sharp pangs through her body. Strelzar fully occupied her again, and again, and she felt the tension that had built the better part of the day nearing release. Finally, the breath was stolen from her chest and ripples of flame raced through her entire body.
Their spines contorted in unison, until they resembled the carving of the twin dragons, and he roared so ferociously, she thought he might actually breath fire.
-X-
“This,” Veria said, resting her head on Strelzar's chest, “was not what I expected to happen when I came to Plazic Peak.”
“Then you did not pay attention to any of your Master's warnings about me, did you?” Strelzar chuckled.
“He did not say much about you, other than to tell me you are dangerous, and unstable,” Veria said. “But I don't know why he would say that you were a danger to me if this is what he saw happening.”
“You think he saw this in one of his sandy little futures? Oh, that almost ruins it for me,” Strelzar groaned, covering his eyes and rubbing his forehead.
“And I am not supposed to be bothered by the fact that you have done all this with my mother?”
“I did not do all of this,” he corrected, waving his hand in a circle over both of them. “Anyway, I have had almost all of my apprentices, if they were worth anything. It is part of the training process,” he reported, boastfully.
“That does not help your case.”
“What?” he defended, throwing his arms up. “They have to be able to seduce me, and they have to be able to detect when they are being manipulated by desire. Obviously, certain practical exercises lend themselves to other...exercises.”
“You poor old man,” she teased, stroking the stony cliffs of his chest.
He grabbed her face and pulled her lips into his for a forceful kiss, and then pulled away and looked at her with a serious face.
“You are not to be compared to them,” he said.
“To whom?” Veria asked.
“To any of my pupils, to your mother—to any Mager, or any woman, or any man, for that matter,” he answered. “You are not to be compared to anyone. They will be compared to you.”
Veria felt an overwhelming confusion of emotions when Strelzar spoke that way. Where did his esteem in her come from? No one had ever praised her in such a way, and she had no idea how to react to it, nor why it was even happening. She could not reconcile her image of herself with his image of her—at least not right away—and it was too puzzling to try.
“You do not believe me,” Strelzar hummed in her ear. “I promise I rarely engage in pointless flattery. My own students hardly received praise even when it was warranted,” he added with a laugh.
“It is not that I do not believe you,” she said. “I just—”
“You do not realize it yet,” he concluded, and she nodded, her cheek against his chest.
Without warning, he rolled her over onto her back and hovered on all fours above her, like an animal over prey. His eyes bore into hers with sharp intensity, and she felt uncomfortable returning his gaze, but managed to keep her eyes on him.
“You have had far too many people undervalue you throughout your life, my little Bird.”
Heat rose to her cheeks, and she broke her eyes away from his, letting her head fall to the side and pretending to look toward the fire. His strong hand grabbed her lower jaw and angled her face back to his.
“And if I have to make up for all of their ignorance myself, I will,” he said, in a gentle, yet determined tone. Then he lowered his face to hers and kissed her intensely, until her lips burned and her chest burst into flame.
“It is quite a shame,” he said, breaking their lips apart, “that you cannot really show anyone how powerful you are. Unless you are wanting to end up on the Red List.”
“It is definitely a shame that I cannot take your energy with me everywhere,” she added. “I know a few people who deserve a little Fire.”
Strelzar smirked. “Remember what I said about revenge...” he warned.
“Surely I can have a little fun now and then?”
“So, you would find amusement in searching out someone who had scorned you in the past and subjecting them to maddening and uncontrollable desire for you?” Strelzar posed.
Veria shrugged her shoulders. “I suppose so.”
“And then what will you do? Hm?” he raised his eyebrows. “Fend them off with a river of lava? Do you really think you would be able to resist if he called out your name and begged you to take him? The one you want...the one you have buried deep inside your mind so you won't think about him?”
She narrowed her eyes at him and pursed her lips.
“Take some advice from someone who has a lot of practice,” he grinned. “Try not to start fires that you cannot extinguish.”
“Well, I doubt I will be starting any fires, Master,” she retorted. “It was an entertaining thought, but not realistic.”
Strelzar cocked his head, still hovering over her, and looked over at the fireplace. “What if it were?” he asked.
“Are you going to go everywhere with me?” she mocked.
“I am not needed,” he said. “You said it before—it is my energy, not me, that you need to take with you.”
“How can I have one without the other?” she asked, scrunching her forehead into wrinkles of bewilderment.
“With a talisman,” he answered, excitedly.
“A talisman for another element does not mean you can control that element,” Veria argued. “I used to put my mother's talismans on all the time thinking they were ordinary jewelry. It did not give me power of any kind.”
“That is because you were not there when it was made, so you have no idea what you are connecting to,” Strelzar answered, sitting up and jumping off the bed. “You have made a talisman, correct?” he asked. Veria nodded affirmatively. “So, you understand how it works. Your energy, in the element, to augment a certain ability and serve as a constant energy connection. But nobody has ever created a talisman with more than one Mager's energy.”
Veria sat up and tucked her knees under her as she considered the prospect. “I guess we would have to attempt it to know for sure.”
Pure joy consumed Strelzar's facade. “Yes!” he exclaimed. “That's the spirit, Birdie!” He grabbed her cheeks and connected their lips with frenzied enthusiasm. Her chest pounded, and pulse quickened, and she wanted to pull him back down onto the bed right at that moment. But, she remembered his dedication to his craft took precedence over other behaviors.
“We are going to make history,” he growled excitedly, still clu
tching her face in his hands.
“If it works,” Veria reminded.
“It will work,” he said, sounding assured.
“How do you know?” she asked.
“I do not,” he said, “but innovation never came from negative thinking, love. Plus, I am about to find out.” She watched as he strode over near the fireplace and picked up a shard of the iron candle holder. “We both connected with and manipulated this piece of iron, so it should contain traces of both our energies.”
He held the small fragment of metal between two fingers and focused on it intently and silently for several moments. Then he nodded, as if answering a question in his own mind. “There is still my fire energy in here, just like the wall in the magma chamber.”
Veria contemplated what this would mean for her if it really was going to work. The ability to not just move earth and stone and metal, but shape it, manipulate it, bend it and force it to her will. Walls of stone from piles of dust, spears and shackles of iron from innocent household objects—no one would be able to hurt her. She would be dangerous. She would be protected.
“Yes,” Strelzar nodded conspiratorially, reading her desires. A guileful grin crept across his chiseled face. “So, I have but one question for you, little bird: what sort of jewelry do you fancy?”
They went through what would appear to be a typical talisman ritual, except that they did everything together and remained connected, as they had been down in the magma chamber, the entire time.
They had dressed, this time Veria in some of Strelzar's long, white, undergarments. Then Strelzar had produced a chest of fine jewels and metal treasures.
“Whatever you wish is yours, my love,” he had said, gesturing with flourish.
After surveying the collection, Veria had chosen a set of plain bronze goblets.
“All of this, and that is your choice?” he had questioned. She nodded. “And what are we going to do with them?”
“We will melt them down and shape them into cuffs,” she had explained.
“Oh, you are a dangerous little vixen,” he had laughed. “Did we not already play that game?”
The Second Talisman: (Book II of the Elementals Series) Page 9