The Secret of the Keepers
Page 3
“Nora, you’re still weak. We can wait. We have a lifetime, love.”
“I don’t want to wait.” I brought his hand to my lips, kissing his smooth palm and then placing over my heart. “I want to give you all of me, and I want to experience all of you.” I put my hand on his chest, feeling the rhythm of his heart adjust and match mine. Uncertainty swirled, his other hand once again traced my spine. I held my breath, concentrating on the heat trailing behind his caress. Memories of a time when he was willing but I knew we weren’t ready embraced my thoughts.
“... you have but to ask ...”
He kept my gaze while I shared the memory.
“I’m asking now,” I whispered. “Claim me as your own.”
His eyes heated with those words, his hand slid down to my lower back, and he pulled me close.
“You must keep your mind open,” he gently insisted.
At the moment, I honestly don’t know if I could close it.
He slid his hands to the tops of my arms. My heart sped as he looped his fingers under delicate, pink straps, slipping the material off my shoulders. Silk brushed against my skin as it floated down, pooling at my feet. Gavin put a few inches between us, his gaze hungrily tracing over soft curves. A blush reached my hairline as his eyes found mine once more.
He leaned in, whispering something in the ancient language, trailing soft kisses from the corner of my eye to my jaw. The heat of his body pulled me closer, and I kissed the breastbone guarding his heart. A low moan growled in the back of his throat as my fingertips followed the line of his stomach, loving the feel of hard, defined muscles.
Smooth palms slid down my arms past my waist, their warmth blazed on the rise of my hips. His breath became jagged as our energy grew, our desire blended together. I wrapped my arms around him; his muscles contracted under my touch. Pulling him close, my soft flesh leaned into his hard torso. His groan mingled with mine as we became still, absorbing the feel of skin against skin. He trapped my earlobe between his teeth before finding the soft hollow hidden beneath. My splayed fingers rejoiced in the feel of him. Desire ripped through me, and his lips, which had been trailing down my neck, came back to find mine.
Passionate hunger fed physical need. The warmth in the pit of my stomach turned into a familiar ache. His fingertips traced the line of my jaw, following my frantic pulse to dip in the contour of my collarbone. His fingers continued downward, his eyes followed their journey as they slowly descended, taking time to caress the soft contours that had never known the pleasure of his touch.
The willow trees flickered with newfound energy, causing soft light to dance throughout the room.
“I’ve imagined this moment,” Gavin whispered. “How soft you’d feel; how exquisite you’d look dressed in nothing but my soul stone.”
I squirmed as his hands continued to explore. He stilled; his eyes found mine again.
“But even my wildest dreams couldn’t compare to you here, your beautiful body bared, your incredible mind open, your intent solely focused on expressing and giving love.” Gavin put his hands on either side of my face, closing his eyes and resting his forehead on mine. “It is a gift beyond anything I could ever imagine. One I’m not worthy of. I vow to you I’ll honor this until I draw my last breath.”
His sincerity, his love, his absolute devotion raced through me as he kissed me. My breath quickened as desire and hunger mixed with need. I slid my hand from his chest, down the side of his torso until I found the towel gripping his waist. Soft cotton fell on top of delicate silk. My eyes raked over his perfect form, making their way back to his face. My knees became weak, overwhelmed with the sensations writhing through me.
Gavin’s hand pressed against the small of my back as the other slid past my hip to the bend of my knee. He lifted me, cradling me in his arms. Heat radiated where my side pressed against him, contrasting the cool air swirling down my spine. I stared at liquid emeralds that held a light shining deep within.
“Your eyes,” I whispered, “they’re just like your soul stone.”
He smiled, lowering me to the bed. I whimpered as his touch, no longer timid, fondled, caressed, explored. He took his time, rejoicing in finally having the opportunity to freely discover the offerings of his mate. Our hurried breaths mingled with the hum of energy. His desire saturated every cell in my being as he shifted, looming over me. Soft pillows billowed around me as his warmth covered me. His palms caressed the sides of my face as he rested the bulk of his weight on his forearms. His eyes, so fervent yet gentle, held mine, and he settled his hips between my thighs.
“I love you,” he whispered as the pressure of his body claimed mine. The webs outside blazed with white-hot energy, and I cried out from the beauty and pain of becoming one.
Chapter 3
Strengthening
THE SUN WARMED MY BACK as Gavin absentmindedly traced circles up and down my spine. Energy soared, taking my breath away. The moment Gavin and I physically joined, our circle became a permanent flow. The floodgates stood wide open; my shield no longer existed. As I looked out the window, the webbing around the falls blazed, lighting up even in the day.
I sighed, thinking the excess energy might be a problem. I had no clue what that meant for the outside world, but at the moment I really didn’t care.
Pointing then flexing my toes, I stretched. My legs were no longer tired, but a sweet ache between my hips pulsed with every heartbeat. Images of last night replayed in my mind, causing my stomach to flip. A blush warmed my face as I kissed Gavin’s shoulder.
“Good morning, my light,” he muttered, his voice rumbling in his chest. He brought my wrist to his lips, kissing the skin beneath his stone.
Good morning.
His emotions, now a part of me, simply were. I felt every timbre of his heart. Gavin could not control the power of his feelings any more than I could shut him out. I now understood why the Alfar stayed in seclusion after they married, and I also knew why the instinct that kept us waiting until after the ceremony was so strong.
We didn’t need to strengthen—we needed to learn control.
“I feel as you do. I’ve never felt the energy coursing through me now. Do you sense anything else?”
“Not yet ... you?” I said, pulling myself up on my elbow. He shifted his weight, staring at my hand still enfolded in his.
“No. But I did notice the lines in your palm make the shape of a unicorn. Look.” He grinned.
Gavin’s hands were smooth as glass, and the first time I met him, he seemed fascinated that mine was riddled with creases.
He stood, and the silver glow of health surrounding him was as solid as the sprites.
He glanced back, smiling. Shock, I was sure must be his, rippled through me.
“Now I understand why you look so good when you wear pink,” he said. “It matches your health.”
“Did you just now notice?”
“My attention has been elsewhere.” He grinned at my blush. “I’m starving. What would you like?”
“What do we have?” I sat up, pulling the covers around me.
“I’m not sure, but Elaine stocked the pantry, so I doubt we’ll starve.”
I made my way to the bathroom as Gavin dressed and headed to the kitchen to fix breakfast, or were we closer to lunch?
“Why don’t we just call it both?” Gavin hollered from the kitchen.
Humor tickled my insides. It was now impossible to distinguish between his emotions and mine. I would have to work on it, but I wasn’t sure if I wanted to. Joy coursed through me, and I grinned not caring if it was his, mine, or both. I could hear him chuckle as pots and pans clanged in the outer room.
Sunshine blazed through the nook’s windows as we sat down to brunch. The sensation of two sets of feelings coursing through confused me. Gavin laughed, sending me into a fit of giggles, which, in turn, caused masculine humor to tickle again.
“If you don’t stop, we’ll just do this all day.” I snickered, entirely at the
mercy of his humor.
His eyes glittered as he smiled. Taking a deep breath, he pushed his plate back and laced his hands behind his head. “I didn’t know what to expect, but I didn’t expect this.”
I knew exactly what he meant. Everyone worried about how we would change, but other than losing the ability to close my mind and his emotions feeling stronger, things were pretty much the same. “I’m not sure what I expected either, but even now, I still feel like me, you know? I wonder if we are the exception or the rule.”
“It’s different for everyone, but I’ll tell you what my father told me.” He reached for my hand. “As a child, my mother was gifted with the languages of animals, healing, and the culinary arts. My father had only one gift. He was a tremendous fighter. When they became one, he shared his tenacity to defend, but the Queen’s healing powers and the gift of languages remained solely hers. Instead, she shared her love of cooking.
“During their time alone, Father cooked every night, exploring this gift, creating new meals. When they returned to the castle, he asked Mother not to share this with anyone. After all, he was the King and the leader of the guard. He knew the idea would not sit well with the troops.”
I smiled, my thumb and index finger absentmindedly playing with his ring. “So, what happened?”
“It wasn’t until I started school that he began cooking again. Once a week, they dismissed the staff, and he would teach me the finer points of cuisine.”
Melancholy ran through me, and Gavin looked away. “It was the only time we spent as a family.”
I brought his hand to my lips, kissing the finger that held my ring. “I think that’s a tradition we’ll have to keep.”
Gavin smiled and stood, pulling me up with him. “The day is getting away from us. How would you like to go exploring?”
I hunted for my shoes, smiling when I spotted them next to the fireplace. “I’d love to.” Balancing on one foot, I reached for the mantle and lifted the other foot to put on my slipper. As soon as my fingers touched the marble carving, I froze.
Images of an unfamiliar landscape flashed in vivid recall. The sweet scent of peaches hinted through the cool breeze as it brushed across my face. I turned to the sounds of laughter and singing. Willow saplings stood proudly in the much younger meadow, the cabin nothing but a frame.
Muted colors, like a hazy, distant memory, melded, swirling like a kaleidoscope. They finally focused once more.
A shorter female molded the kitchen cabinets. Husks of grain floated down as someone constructed the thatch roof overhead. The mantle stood before me in nothing but a solid block of marble. Long, unfamiliar fingers lovingly molded the stone as if I were looking through the eyes of their master. A deep voice hummed an ancient melody.
Gavin gently took my hand from the fireplace. My breath caught as his blank eyes refocused.
“I think we’ve discovered a new gift,” he muttered.
“What was that?” I backed away from the fireplace.
Gavin bent down and finished putting on my shoes. “I shared your vision with Malachi. He believes you experienced the memory of the one who sculpted this mantle. He’s never personally seen this gift, but there are stories of old. As you know, art contains the artist intent, which gives off energy for all to share. Malachi believes that your perception has grown beyond this basic understanding. You now can see the memories interwoven within the art’s intent.” Gavin ran his hand over the fireplace ledge and sighed. “And it appears only you possess this ability.”
“I thought we only shared gifts. I didn’t think we got new ones.”
“You must’ve always had the potential, just not the means to reach it.”
“What am I supposed to do with a gift like that?” I frowned, not sure I liked it.
Gavin opened the door. “I have no idea. Although I’m sure time will tell us the reasons why.”
As soon as we stepped outside, I froze. A thousand little sounds floated through the air, not like the collective song of the forest we’d heard last night. This was individual shards of noise. I took a deep breath to calm my mind. Dirt, rotting leaves, ancient flora, musk, pine, ancient power, the pungent aroma seemed to be a thousand different scents demanding my attention.
“Nora?” Gavin’s concern ached.
The sounds grew louder, the scents stronger.
“What is that smell, and why does everything sound so ... sharp?” I whispered.
Understanding flowed. Must have been his, because I was just confused.
“This is how everything sounds and smells to the Alfar. You can distinguish the difference between an ant and the birds, but you cannot smell their essence, At least, I don’t think you can.” Gavin’s voice became uncertain.
I took another timid whiff. He was right, in a way. I could smell all the animals, but the spiders were different.
Shock ran through me, and I turned to him. His eyes were round, almost troubled.
What’s wrong?
“You’re right. The animals of the field smell as they always have, but the spiders each have an individual scent. Look at their King.” He pointed to the spider in the center of the trees. The subtle aroma of lavender common in all the spiders was there, but centered on the King was also the scent of ginger.
Gavin exhaled, frustration running through both of us. He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose.
“I’ve got too much information running through my head. I never thought I would say that.”
My mind raced, running in circles of thought, faster and faster, the sounds louder, the smells stronger. I shut my eyes and started breathing through my mouth. Covering my ears, I tried to muffle the sounds surrounding me. It did no good. All my senses were overloaded. The sentences running through my mind unraveled, exploding into just words, whirring around like pesky bees, adding to the chaos of my mind.
Whether it was his frustration or mine, I didn’t know. Nothing made sense. My concentration scattered to the four winds as images, sounds, voices from memories, smells, everything increased, playing at once, echoing, growing louder until I wanted to scream. Even the gentle breeze felt like sandpaper across my skin. I held back the aching tears as it all grew to a fevered pitch, shattering into a million pieces on the floor of my consciousness.
Gavin grabbed me and pulled me close. My back pressed against the closed door as he shielded me from the breeze. He brushed back my hair before his hands covered mine, gently pulling them away from the side of my head. He leaned in whispering in my ear.
“Look at me, please.”
I warily opened my eyes.
“It’s all right. I understand what’s happening. Your mind now flows as mine does. You’re experiencing many streams of consciousness instead of just one. What you lack is focus, love. Concentrate on one thought.”
I tipped my head forward, resting on his chest. My heart pounded in my ears, adding to the clutter and noise. I closed my eyes again, but only words, smells, and sound tumbled, rolling through my mind. Gavin tightened his hold, pressing me closer, and I grabbed onto the only thing making sense to me ... his scent. Peppermint, sunshine, and light warmed my lungs. I put my nose at the small indent at the base of his neck. The other thoughts lessened in intensity, although they didn’t stop. I wrapped my arms around him desperately needing my shield. Concentrating on light blue, I tried to clear my mind, but nothing came. Whiffs of powdered sky briefly appeared only to blow away like dust in the wind. My thoughts were too strong. I tried again ... it wasn’t working. I couldn’t empty my mind or use the shield. Tears streamed as the damn in me finally broke, and I couldn’t take it anymore.
Gavin reached behind me, turning the knob. He led me back into the cabin. The door closed, and relief flooded. His strong arms stayed around me, pressing me into his warmth. He didn’t move, he just kept one hand on my head and one at the small of my back. The steady pressure calmed me, and without all the sounds, sights, and smells, the over-stimulation mercifully waned.
What if I was right? What if the fact that I’m human has limited me in some way? What if I’m not strong enough to do this?
Gavin kissed my forehead. “Nora, it’s the first day.” His warm voice comforted me. “We’ll learn control.”
I finally raised my head from his chest, watching the emeralds I loved, growing with worry. I forced my mind into more positive thoughts. Gavin was right—I just needed focus. His eyes sparkled, and he kissed me and pulled me to the couch.
WE DIDN’T VENTURE OUTSIDE the cabin again. Instead, Gavin filled the days with lessons in cooking and reading the ancient language. The nights brought passion as we explored the wonders of each other physically.
Lately, we’d taken to sketching in the afternoons, but today Gavin had something different in mind. A block of marble the size of a vase stood on the coffee table in front of me. Gavin reclined on the other end of the couch. He took a few small stones he’d found, his fingers pressing in as he started sculpting his own animal menagerie.
“What are you going to sculpt?” Gavin grinned. “Rena tells me you prefer to start with the intent first, and then your sculpture grows from that.”
“Yep. I like to wing it.”
Gavin playfully shook his head before he picked up another stone.
What to sculpt? Protection warmed my heart, and my mind became calm. Marble softened beneath my fingertips. Wisps of images and hazy dreams guided my hands, the picture never clear in my mind. I lost track of time. The sounds of the thunderstorm rushed and then quieted in its own musical dance as the afternoon wore on. Fatigue set in, and my legs grew numb, but I didn’t care. Finally, every thought focused on one thing: the art of creating. When I opened my eyes, I smiled. The front half of the block was now in the shape of a unicorn, rearing on its hind legs, his mouth open, teeth bared, conviction etched in every line.