by Montana Ash
“I don’t know why you’re so upset. I did warn you,” he reminded her, probably not helping the situation.
“Lark …”
“Ivy …” he mimicked.
She huffed at him but then he saw her shoulders hunch, “I have nothing to offer you,” she whispered the words.
That had him sitting up, “That’s not true. Besides, I’m not asking for anything. Those three words are given freely with nothing expected in return. They are a gift, Ivy – not a responsibility or a burden. Just a gift. Hasn’t anyone ever given you a gift before?”
“Not that kind of gift,” she muttered.
He picked up her hand and kissed each finger, “Well, this one has a no returns policy. Sorry, not sorry,” he sang.
He felt rather than saw the small smile on her lips as she laid her cheek against his. Coaxing her back down, he drew her in tight. “Talk to me,” he urged.
She poked a finger into his ribs, “All I do is talk to you. I swear, you make me feel positively chatty.”
Lark smiled, feeling happy and satisfied, “I like listening to your voice. Tell me something I don’t know. Um …” he thought about it for a second and then asked, “Why did you so readily agree to work for Max? How did you get your brand?”
*****
Ivy felt herself stiffen once more and she hesitated, prevaricating; “She showed me something.”
“Showed you?” he asked, voice lazy.
She nodded, “In my head. After that debacle at Caspian’s, Beyden was forced to tell me about Max. I didn’t believe him at first despite what I had seen her do. I mean, come on – a Custodian? So I confronted Max, figured she was manipulating my brother somehow.”
A laugh rumbled in his chest beneath her ear, “Really? I would have loved to have seen that. What did she show you?”
Her first reaction to the unwanted question was to tell him to mind his own business. But because it was Lark and because she was trying to react like a normal person rather than one always in combat, she answered steadily, “I don’t want to say. It’s not that I don’t trust you or anything, it’s just –”
“Hey, hey …” he interrupted, rolling her beneath him once again and propping himself up on his forearms, “It’s fine. No pressure. You don’t have to tell me. I was just curious and making conversation. You’re allowed to have things that are just for you,” he assured her.
She nodded but she still felt guilty. He had given her so much; fun, laughter … love. And what had she given him in return? Maybe some world-altering orgasms but that was about it. She knew why she was holding back on the whole Max thing. It was because of what Max had shown her. Ivy was worried that if she thought about it too hard or spoke about it out loud that she would somehow jinx herself and the possible future Max had shown her would not come to pass.
When Ivy had demanded answers after the fiasco at Caspian’s house, Max had explained who and what she was patiently. Ivy had scoffed and been her typical rude self. Max hadn’t blinked an eye, just asked her if she would be willing to work for her as a spy. At first, Ivy thought she was joking – no way would the woman be stupid enough to admit to sedition in front of a ranger. But Max’s turquoise eyes had remained steady and guileless on hers and Ivy had been quick to disabuse her of her notion;
“I know you’re new and all but offers like that will get you killed.”
Max didn’t even blink, “No they won’t. You are going to work with me. In fact, we’re going to become good friends – sisters even.”
“Is that right?” she scoffed.
Max nodded, sending her thick, wild hair soaring, “Indeed. Do you want to see?”
Ivy shook her head, utterly confused, “See what?”
“Possibilities. Possibilities you can help make happen.”
Thinking the woman was getting crazier by the second, Ivy had foolishly agreed. And it had been foolish, she admitted. For what Max had shown her was all her secret hopes and wants and dreams. They had seemed so real, so tangible, that she’d felt like she could reach out and touch them and she had known that Max was the real-deal. But what was it that Max had shown her?
A room full of chades who were once again men. Men who were wardens and once more warriors and guardians for nature. The room had been filled with light and laughter. There had been no sickles in sight and no thieving of vitality. Just for that one possibility alone, Ivy would have jumped at the chance to serve Max. But right at the end of the vision, Ivy had felt something else; a rough hand holding her own.
She had been too afraid to look up to see if the warm hand had a face but the feeling that came from the hand engulfing hers had been enough to have her going down on one knee and swearing fealty to the custodian on the spot. A gentle smile from Max and thirty seconds later, Ivy had been sporting a circle of black symbols on her upper arm.
“Ivy?”
The deep voice startled her from her reverie and she saw Lark watching her with concern.
“Where were you?” he asked, tucking an errant hair behind her ear.
Unable to help herself, she leant into the touch, “I was in the future,” she answered, honestly.
His eyebrows raised, “Oh? And what did you see?”
Pushing him to his back, she straddled his trim waist, “How about I show you?”
He groaned, his hips bucking up and his hardness already seeking entrance into her body. She didn’t disappoint him and she didn’t make him wait. The trip down memory lane coupled with Lark’s words of love, had her feeling a little desperate. Gripping his shaft in one hand she held it steady as she slid down effortlessly. She gasped, her head falling back on her shoulders as he filled her to capacity. Her internal muscles clenched of their own accord and this time it was his turn to gasp.
She felt a surge of womanly triumph at the sound and she planted her hands on his pecs, leaning forward. Her hair created a dark curtain of intimacy as she touched her lips to his. The kiss started out slow and sensual but quickly turned fast and hungry as raw desire swept throughout her body. Pushing up again, she ran her hands over his perfectly proportioned and deliciously limber body as she began to pump her hips.
He let her set the pace for all of five minutes before her deliberate movements proved too much for his control. He gripped her hips and began to thrust into with enough force to have her grabbing his wrists just so she could remain in place. As she had come to expect, his cock somehow managed to hit every sweet spot she never knew she had and she felt her skin flush hot with her impending release. Aware of every nuance of her moods, her man chose that moment to reach between them and run a thumb over her sensitive mound.
“Yes!” she gasped out, her body losing all finesse and coordination as her orgasm rushed through her. His harsh curse quickly sounded in the dim confines of the room and she felt his body clench tight with his own release.
Moaning, she allowed him to roll her to her side and cuddled into his front. Soft lips touched the top of her head and she closed her eyes tightly. She didn’t need Lark’s photographic memory to retain the sights and sensations of the night. She knew the pleasure and the words were forever seared into her brain.
And her heart.
THIRTY-FIVE
Lark was still riding high the next morning. Despite her words to the contrary, Ivy’s lovemaking had taken a decidedly intimate turn. All concerns of evil mastermind chades and bad dreams had vanished amidst the hours of slow, sweet pleasure. He didn’t need the words – those would come with time. For now, he was content with Ivy’s actions.
“Lark, a word?”
And just like that, Lark felt his happy mood evaporate. He turned to face his Captain and sure enough, the man’s face was as serious as his tone. Figuring he knew what this little ambush was about, Lark decided to go on the defensive, “Ryker, I’m sorry. I know I lied to you and I know how much you hate that. I promise I won’t do it again. It’s just –” If he wasn’t mistaken, Lark could swear he was on the verge of hype
rventilating. The thought of disappointing the man who had given him everything, cut him to the quick.
“Whoa. Slow down, there. Take a couple of breaths,” Ryker placed a warm palm on the back of his neck and squeezed reassuringly. “Good, now …” he said after Lark did his bidding, “want to tell me what you’re apologising for?”
Lark glanced up, seeing concern on Ry’s face, “For not telling you I was a potentate. I know I broke all manner of laws; the IDC must be notified of every potentate. I know there’s only allowed to be one potentate in every Order. I know how sparse potentates are now and the council needs every single one. But I honestly hadn’t even thought about it in years. After I managed to convince my father I wasn’t born with the gift, I just forgot about it. I mean, it wasn’t like I was ever going to be in an Order. And then Max came along and I just –”
“Lark! Will you shut up for a minute?!” Ryker yelled to be heard over Lark’s continuous chatter, “I don’t care,” he then said, blandly.
That sure shut him up and Lark found himself blinking a few times in confusion, “You don’t care?” he repeated.
Ryker shook his head, “Nope. Couldn’t give two shits, to be honest. I just don’t understand why you kept it a secret. What did you think would happen if you told me?”
Lark shrugged, feeling a little embarrassed about his over-reaction now, “Before Max? I guess it was a non-issue. But after Max? I was terrified you would tell the council and they would make me leave the Order. One potentate per Order. That’s the rules.”
Ryker scowled, “And how long has it been since I’ve given a fuck about the rules?”
Lark felt his lips twitch and his shoulders relaxed for the first time in minutes, “A long time, I guess.”
Ry grunted, “That’s right. I’m in love with my liege – completely against the rules. I’m in an Order that was never sanctioned by the council – completely against the rules. Multiple members of my Order are in intimate relationships – completely against the rules. I have a former chade living in one of my bedrooms who also happened to knock up one of my paladins – really fucking completely against the rules.”
Lark laughed as Ry’s list went on and on, “I see your point.”
“Good,” Ry cleared his throat and shifted a little uncomfortably, “Just so you know – you can come to me about anything. I may not be a genius but I’m a good listener and I’m always here for you … and stuff.”
Lark felt his smile spread slowly until he was sure it consumed his entire face; an uncomfortable Ryker in touch with his feelings sure was a thing to behold. Instead of teasing the man, as he was inclined to do, he clapped him on the back, “Thanks, man. I know that.”
Ryker cleared his throat and nodded once, “Good. That’s settled then. Unless you want a death match to prove who should be Captain of the Order?” he asked, grinning as well now.
Lark recognised the evil glint in Ry’s brown eyes and knew he would end up slammed to a mat if he took the man up on the offer, “Um, that would be a no … Sir,” he added.
“We’ll consider the matter closed then. I actually came to speak to you about something else …” he trailed off and his face returned to its earlier seriousness.
Lark felt dread pooling in his stomach, “What is it?”
Ryker looked him straight in the eye as he answered, “Wardens and paladins are being recalled from their posts from all around the world. They’re being given orders to assemble here – at the local headquarters.”
“The council?” Lark questioned.
“Yeah,” Ry nodded.
Lark frowned, his mind quickly processing the ramifications of such a move, “Why?”
“Ostensibly? To meet Max – so all wardens can present themselves to her, as an opportunity for them to show their respect.”
“You don’t believe that,” it was a statement.
Ryker clenched his jaw, “No, I don’t.”
Neither do I, he thought, remembering his theories about the council recalling Orders right before the Great Massacre. “Who is in charge of calling them in?” he asked next.
“Mordecai.”
The name surprised him. It really wasn’t the name he had been expecting to hear. He had thought maybe Ravyn, Ares, or Cinder would be behind such a bold move. They were the ones who had been so outspoken in their dislike and distrust of Max. Blu, Garrett, and Autumn had been her biggest supporters. And Mordecai had been the wild-card who could go either way. It seemed perhaps the man had now chosen a side. Although, it didn’t quite sit well with him.
Lark had observed the Death Warden many times now because he had a disconcerting habit of staring at Max. The others thought he was cold and creepy – unless you asked the girls, who thought he was hot. But Lark could swear he saw something else in the man’s green eyes. Something he wasn’t quite ready to believe. Not until he had a chance to investigate and think a little more, in any case.
“Maybe someone should have a chat with him. I’d be happy to,” he offered. In fact, he was going to insist upon it. Luckily, his Captain nodded;
“That’s what I was thinking. And I was hoping you’d volunteer. I think your observation skills would come in handy. I want your take on the guy.”
It was good that Ry already had him in mind for such a task, but Lark wanted the opportunity to talk to the warden one on one. Before he could formulate a good argument however, Ryker spoke again;
“That’s not all I wanted to talk to you about. There’s something else.”
“Oh? What is it?” Lark asked, easily.
“It’s Isaac.”
He immediately stiffened upon hearing his father’s name and he was sure he went pale. Despite the years away from the man and his own newfound perfect situation, the thought of his father still terrified him. He swallowed hard, steadying his voice, “What about him?”
Ryker’s gaze was direct and steady, “His Order is one of the ones being recalled. He’s here.”
THIRTY-SIX
She found him in the gym beating the crap out of a punching bag. He was sweating and panting heavily as he hopped around the bag, throwing punch after punch and making the bag swing wildly. It looked like he was working off some major aggression and she wondered what had happened between waking her up with soft kisses against her shoulder, to now.
She had never seen him like this. She had seen his tightly reigned control. She had seen his melancholy when he had danced. She had seen his fierceness when he fought the chades. She had even seen him when he was annoyed and frustrated. But she had never observed him in a mood so raw. She hadn’t thought he was capable of it but she should know better than to think she had him all figured out by now. The guy was about as deep as they came – it was one of the things she liked most about him. Unsure if she should approach him or just leave him alone, she decided on the middle ground and sat herself down on the bench to wait him out.
His vicious energy lasted longer than she would have thought and it was a full fifteen minutes later when he finally stopped punishing the bag. She thought he would turn around and say something to her, knowing he must have noticed her presence by now. The man noticed everything, especially when it came to her. It always made her feel special. But instead, he just leant his head against the bag, hugging it to him as he sucked in harsh breaths. She felt herself get even more concerned now and began making her way over to him.
“Lark …” she said softly, wanting to alert him to her approach. She saw him stiffen but he gave no other indication he had heard her and she felt her gut clench; something was very wrong. She may not be able to say the ‘L’ word like he did but she was as emotionally invested as she was capable of being. Seeing him obviously hurting, hurt her and she placed a tentative hand on his back.
He flinched at the contact, hissing; “Don’t!”
She immediately removed her hand, startled at the anger in his voice. Had she done something wrong? Was this little rage-against-the-innocent-punching-bag rou
tine, about her? Maybe he had changed his mind about how he felt about her. After the ‘intervention’ his fellow knights had held, she knew he had thought the whole thing to be humorous and endearing. But what if he had reconsidered – even after his declaration last night? Well, if she was going to get dumped, she wished he’d get on with it;
“Whatever it is, just spit it out.”
He chuckled but the noise sounded bitter as he pushed away from the bag and faced her, “What?” he asked, acerbly, “I’m not allowed to have a bad mood?”
She thought about it for a moment because it was just so strange to her. Sure, he was allowed to have a bad mood. Everyone had bad moods. She just hadn’t thought it was possible. He was always just so … Lark. Another rough chuckle had her looking up once again and she was relieved beyond measure to see a wry smile on his handsome face this time as he shook his head;
“You look so confused,” he pointed out, beginning to unwind the wraps on his hands.
“I guess I am. I’ve never seen you like this. I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do,” she admitted.
“What do you want to do?” he asked, throwing the long length of bindings to the floor.
She shifted from foot to foot, feeling vulnerable because what she really wanted to do was hug him. But if this little fit of temper was about her, there was no way she wanted to admit that. But then she remembered his words of love from the night before and knew the courage such an admission took, especially considering he hadn’t heard the words in return. She decided to be honest; “I want to hug you.”
He continued to eye her for a few seconds before speaking, “That would be just about perfect.”
“Yeah?” she took a step forward.
“Yeah,” he nodded.
But she still hesitated, “A second ago, you acted as though you didn’t want me to touch you.”
He winced, “That wasn’t about you … it was about where you touched me. My back. I was lost in some memories …”
Not needing to hear any more, she reached up and drew him down into her arms. He came readily, pulling her in close and aligning their bodies perfectly. She felt him sigh hugely before he finally relaxed into the embrace, burying his face against her neck. “It’s not about me,” she stated.