by Miya Kressin
“Gods, Roseen,” he choked out. Cade swelled inside me, his manhood slightly moving of its own volition as our muscles rippled, seeking to dance. His eyes glassed over with tears, fluid pooled slightly before dripping out the corner of each eyelid. I leaned forward to kiss them away . . . The angle shifted us, and he brushed against a spot that took my breath away. At my gasp, his lips curled into a smile.
“Kiss me,” he demanded, his fingers scratching up my back to my hair. Blissful pain burned through me as he pulled me flat onto his chest by my hair, our lips meeting roughly. He claimed me in that kiss, more than our married flesh had done. My mouth was seared from the outside in. I couldn’t get close enough, couldn’t get enough. I needed him akin to the air we took in on almost painful gasps between smashing teeth and tugs of hair.
Cade grazed my back with his nails, scoring me with his lust. The sting of the scratches was as much a necessary balm to our lovemaking as the blaze in his eyes when mine opened. He was staring at me still, even as teasing nips of teeth on swollen lips spurred our tongues to taste, to lick, to thrust.
“Years,” he whispered against me. “Years I’ve wanted this.” Another tug of my shortened locks had my neck stretching. Open-mouthed, hungry kisses rained down my flesh as he pushed me down his body, making my back arch. “I’ve dreamt of tasting you.” In time with his words, he lifted his hips, burying his shaft deeper inside me. “I never dreamt it could feel this . . . everything. ‘Good’ isn’t enough.”
The room spun without my moving as he flipped us, my legs going up around his hips by instinct. The friction as he rocked made me cry out, and I returned the marks he had given me threefold. Clinging to his shoulders, I held myself up as he experimented in a slow withdrawal. “Need you,” I whimpered.
“Always,” was his answer. An even slower thrust returned our bodies to how they were meant to be. “Gods!”
Gentleness was abandoned. Calloused palms and fingers pawed at me in alternating turns as he tried to keep himself up over me. All I saw were his dark curls as he leaned down to capture a nipple and suckle. The coil in my belly tightened to the bursting point, and I needed more. I wanted all of him.
“Mine now, Roseen. You’re mine as much as I’m yours.” He spoke in that calm, melodic tone, and my brain agreed even as I tried to understand the words.
“Yours.” I lifted to him.
He loomed over me in the span of a hastily taken breath, his forge-strengthened body dwarfing me. The war in his eyes was the same as mine. Slow or fast? He asked without words. There was time for slow after, plenty to learn each other and tease out unending crescendos of our desire. Now was for sating the driving need that was turning our insides out.
With a last lick along my neck, Cade helped me kick free of the sheets and turn over. I could feel the heavy weight of his gaze as I drew my legs up under me, raising my body to his like a cat in heat. “Hands on the window ledge.” His voice was low and rough, a rumble of a command as he grabbed my waist and hauled me upright.
In a desperate grab, I stretched upwards and caught the edge of the brick and mortar beneath the glass. My thighs parted, my knees going wide to steady myself, but it was no use. He was on me, his chest sealing to my back as he bit my neck, leaving his mark. “Mine,” he claimed. I would leave my own later.
He was awkward, yes, as he positioned us back together, but the moment he was inside me, his hesitance fell away. The thunder of our bodies colliding in our passion repeated outside in peals as lightning lit the sky. Rain pounded the roof and became the sweat we shed.
Searching hands palmed my breasts until one slid up to cup my head, the other down to my sex. He turned my face into his kiss with a flexing of his fingers. The other hand sought the hidden flesh that would make me cry his name.
Each thrust of his hips and touch of his fingers took me further from myself and closer to the joining of our souls I desired. I wanted to soar with him. He took me higher and higher, the spiral inside pushing us tighter as he lost control. Hard, deep thrusts became shallow ones with no rhythm; Cade pulled my shoulders each time, pleasured grunts and moans interspersed with melodic whispers and mewlings of my name.
I wanted more, needed more, and when it was finally enough, I bayed like a wolf to the moon as heated pleasure spiraled through me and stole thoughts and words. Cade gave me everything; his energy flew through my veins as he went silent and shook behind me, his arms banding around me to support him.
Still coupled, we crumpled onto the sticky sheets, his weight a pleasant crush on my skin. Slowly withdrawing as his body relaxed from spending, he kissed the nape of my neck before collapsing beside me. “You truly are a witch, Roseen.”
Chapter Eleven
She called me to You, Great Island. Green eyes of divine beauty led me to the shores across Your waters. Wayland, our holy smith, hammered rocks up to meet my feet. Together, They led me to Your blessed shores. I gave to You the child within my womb to be the second priestess. May our line be fostered in Your magic.
Book of Ages, the first priestess of Sheelin
I was scared. Bone-deep—nay, soul-deep—terror flooded me as I watched Cade open the wooden chest my grandfather had carved for my parents as a wedding gift. The latch had been replaced recently; no longer did a rusted loop hold a bar in an equal state of disrepair. On oiled hinges it opened with the softest complaint, layers of blue fabric hiding the contents from my view. The last time I had poked around in the chest, it contained my mother’s lace bridal shawl, jewelry, polished plates that were as reflective as the best mirrors, and a set of carefully designed silverware my father made from a childhood sketching. It was to be part of my own wedding gift should I ever wed anyone besides the Priesthood.
“What-what are you doing?” I could not stop stuttering when trying to speak. The words stuck on my tongue, a tongue I could still taste him on from the numerous occasions we’d taken one another in bed, on the floor, against the wall, and even on the ground of the forge when we had tried to recover our senses an hour ago. Breakfast had been rushed bits of stale bread and cheese with over-steeped coffee after Cade and I christened the warm bricks surrounding his hearth. After our hours together, my walk to the island would be made with the proof of our lovemaking upon my skin. No bath could remove all traces given the number of times we had come together.
“I have something for you. It was to wait for after you came home at long last, but this is as good a time as any.” When Cade stood from his hunched position, his unbleached shirt was tinged copper in spaces from dried blood lingering after my scratches. Knowing I was watching, he let out a deep breath as he turned to face me. “I made this for you when I was an apprentice. I was going to ask for your hand when you finished your lessons.”
Searching my memories brought forth shame as I remembered that trip; afterward, I'd gushed to him about wanting to go to Aristeer. Cade did not allow me to wallow in my self-inflicted pain and stepped forward so that I could feel his body heat brushing against my skin.
“Galen said it was the best piece I had made. My work has improved since then, but it’s still beautiful and all yours.”
Scarred hands that had brought me to numerous heights opened with such care it was as if he were holding a hummingbird. The parting fingers showed a cradled cuff of metal; a hand’s width band had reinforced hooks and holes, giving the appearance of the bone and linen stays of the upper class women.
It was exquisite, something I could only dream of—if I ever allowed myself such a fanciful musing. This cuff had been worked with such intricate details and care that it must have taken days of labor, if not weeks. On it, amid glorious knotwork, were woven the hammer of Aya Wayland and the paw of Bas. Putting aside the rose garden, our lovemaking, and shared words in his home, I knew that Cade was holding a representation of his heart in his outstretched hands. This meant more to him than the ceremonial words of binding we’d exchanged inside. “Will you wear it, Lady?”
This was mor
e than an arm band; it was a demarcation of intent. If I dug to the basest instinct, it was a public show of claiming me to be his. No matter how much I wanted to be angered by such an act, I could find nothing but amusement. I prayed he could not discern my emotions through the new bond.
“Most men give rings.” Tugging muscles coerced my lips into forming a smile as pure impishness warmed my veins. I would accept it if it was a barely worked lump of scraps my father left behind.
“I’m not most men, and you are certainly not most women.” His eyes absorbed me, sweeping over me from head to toe and back again, before he smiled. Cade knew me now inside and out; I kept nothing held back from him inside.
“Since you can take nothing but what you can easily carry, I thought better than to send you with the roses I’ve since made.” Accepting my lack of refusal as acquiescence, Cade fastened the cuff around my upper arm. His fingers moved as if he had done this a thousand times in practice before he tugged my robe’s sleeve over the armband. Jubilation and love sparred for the majority of his expression, then shifted to self-pride as he pulled out exquisite curving blooms that were in more shades of metal than I have ever seen in all my travels.
“I have taken your father’s experiments to a new level, Roseen. I can add different powders to the flames and use various metals to obtain more than the standard three and sometimes four colors of other forges.” He fingered a gold and pink rose then reached to caress the armband through the fabric of my sleeve.
“It’s why Liand wants me in Lorilindo. He wants me to make a sun-sword, a blade that looks like burnished gold but is as sharp as any steel wielded by his opposition.”
I could not step foot in that vast area again. Lorilindo was the seat of Liand’s power. What had started as a small military base became a city and then country over five short years. Thinking of Cade being behind walls I could not traverse gave steel to my spirit. I would accomplish this task and beg wisdom from the Oracle on how best to stop the Army of Righteousness.
With my heart lying leaden in my stomach, Cade discarded the roses in the chest and withdrew a hunting dagger still encased in a dull gray scabbard. “I made many mistakes, Roseen, as I forged metal and magic. This was not one of them.” A black blade, as dark as night without the glitter of stars and moon, lay dully in his hand except for the deadly sharp edge. A triple moon and flower were embossed in the simple stripe of silver about the pommel.
“It will cut through my best iron and even the steel I bartered for in Aristeer to work with. Ye know I’m no priest, but Aya knows His workers. When I asked His help, I moved without thought.” His voice took on the smooth, dream-like manner I knew from experience was that of recalling a divine vision. “I was the only smith that night. No other blacksmith who speaks Aya’s name worked in his forge that night. I started at sundown and only as the sun crested did I finish.”
Cade’s eyes grew unfocused as he looked at the quenching barrel. “I’ve never seen anything like it, Lady. It was white as the silver full moon when I pulled it from the quenching barrel. I heard Him still forging behind me, heard you singing that little song about the spring bluebirds. Even though I knew you were days away by the fastest horse, your arms wrapped around me and grasped it with me. Together we sliced across my arm, and the blade glowed red, then turned black. The blade became something else, Roseen.” A tremor went through him as he clenched his hand around the blade and then opened, showing a pool of blood beneath the blade but no cut. “It will not give unintended harm to the bonded bearer but is sharp enough to cut through bone without effort.”
A red glow traveled through the blade to the hilt where it faded at his touch. “I give this blade to you, Roseen. May it protect you where I cannot follow.” A bloodied horn handle was set into my outstretched palm and his reddened fingers closed my hand. The stain of his blood was nothing compared to the sting of ancient magic welding the blade to my hand. I knew it could not be taken from me. Cade’s blood, his own magic, would be a shield. Whether it was there to protect me from others or from myself was yet to be seen. “Cade—”
A soft kiss stopped me from further words, bloodied fingers fluttered around my face as he longed to cup my cheeks. “Lady, the hour grows late, and the moon is cresting beyond the storm clouds. If you refuse to stay here with me, you must go. We both have work to do for our people.” His words were a cruel barb, though not made with the intention to hurt; we had fought mercilessly between our couplings, enough that I knew his jibe was made from his own pain and worry.
*
Eyes as dark as winter tree branches glittered their dangerous intent. Lips swollen from passion-filled kisses parted and closed before opening once more. “Roseen,” he started. With a shake of his head and stubborn set to his shoulders, he looked like a man ready to bully his way into getting what he desired. “Ye aren’t going.”
“Dropping into the old speech now instead of the one spread by Liand’s men? Thinking a familiar tongue will sway my heart from what I must do?” Still naked, my breasts went from bare to his gaze to covered by crossed arms. “They need me; I’m going.”
“Nay, you’re not. I won’t lose you, not now. We need you here. I need you here. You need to finish healing; your skin is still split from the fall. Besides, you know I can stop you if I try.” Cade crossed the space and grabbed a pair of his breeches before turning back to me, ignoring my building rage. “Rose, if you do whatever that was out there again, we can destroy half the stationed army in mere minutes.”
I exploded; this was too much. “I am not a weapon, Cade! I will not murder men just because I can. That would make me no better than those savages crusading under the banner of a God.”
He propped himself up against the wall at my words, one leg bent at the knee. He was the perfect image of male sensuality. “You cannot use sex to get me back into bed so I do not go. I am not a woman free to follow her whims; I am a priestess! That means Bas comes first—always. If I had the slightest inkling you would do this, I would never have given you today, Cade.”
“Yes you would have.” The anger and bitterness were replaced by amusement as quickly as his mood had sprung upon us. “This has been building for decades. You see that, don’t you?” It made sense—in some barbaric, entirely too-male way—for him to want to keep me close after loving me so long.
I could not stay, even if I wanted to. Cade desired me, magic and all, so he would get me. Bas, forgive me for using Your gifts in this manner, I prayed. “You love me, aye?” I questioned. When he nodded, his expression morphing into one of schooled boredom, I set my trap. “You would have me love you as well, more than I already do?” The feline grace of my patroness emerged from some hidden reserve of Her magics, granting a nimble flow to my limbs as I sauntered toward Cade.
“Aye. I want that more than anything. You’re all I have dreamed of, Roseen. I love ye, witch-powers and all.”
“And what is it you love about me?” My question was a rumbling purr as I leaned into his body, my lips at his ear. “Is it that I am meek like the girls in town?”
Violent tremors accompanied the shaking of his head. “Nay, I like that you’re strong, and I usually like it when you get so pigheaded I could spit. Not now.” His eyes were dark and his smile mocking.
“Cade, would you have a woman who sat about, getting into your business? Would you want me if I was just a regular woman who could not wield a sword or be your equal?”
Knowing I had sealed the coffin on the discussion, I leaned back in and licked the corded muscles of his shoulders, enjoying the tension of his fisting hands as he tried to come up with a feasible argument. “Cade, I have no desire for a mate who is not my equal. My equal would expect no less from me than to do my best. That includes me leaving for Sheelin and the potential of not coming back.”
If I was to give him hope only to tear it away from his grasp, I had to leave something else in its place. The idea that came to me was unplanned, but I knew it was the right course. Re
aching for both his hands and setting them onto my chest, I nestled the warm flesh between my breasts and watched awe overtake his face as understanding dawned. Tears built in both our eyes as I spoke the words I had only said in theory to one other, and those were used in childhood. “Cade Alexis, you are in my heart; you have been given all that I have to give.” Setting my hands over his heart, I smiled while looking up into his eyes. To him alone I spoke the words I had not yet uttered to anyone. “I give this lifetime to you, Cade.”
His fingers clenched, and I could feel his touch reach all the way through to my spine, gifting strength to our private rite. “And I to you, Lady. This life and any other you choose me; my life is yours, my heart is yours, every breath is done to honor you.”
*
“I still don’t like it,” he groused. “But, I know you must, so I will send you with every blessing I can.” Loving hands rose to cover his heart. “May the anvil and hammer protect you, may the paw and its claws guide you, and may your heart and magic see you safely there. And home to me,” he added with haste. After straightening my cloak, he gave me a small formal bow, and then crumbled to his knees, dew drops of pain trailing down his cheeks.
With his stoic facade shattered, I watched him pick up the pieces of his soul from my feet. “Let me . . . I need . . . ” Loving eyes caught mine and begged for my acquiescence. “Roseen, let me walk you there; let me see you safely to the grotto. I have to do something besides just send you off with words and wishes.”
We walked in silence, his hand in mine and my pack of supplies slung across his shoulders despite my earlier protests. Together we slunk through shadows as deep as a moonless night, rain soaking us to the bone. My pouches had been refilled at Asha’s and from Cade’s own stores. I had food enough for several days of meager meals, though he would say I had but three meals provided. It was the ritual preparations, however, that were my true treasure.