by H. D. Gordon
His voice was a deep whisper in the dim light of the room, the soft murmuring of a lover. “No regrets, Surah,” he told her. “No matter what happens, know that I’ve got no regrets.” His rough thumb stroked her cheek, brushing away a single tear that had fallen there. “No matter what, no matter how short our time is together, for me, it was worth it.” He sighed, staring at her like he might never see her again. His next words were barely audible, as if spoken only to himself. “So much more than worth it.”
As if moving of their own accord, her hands—they were shaking more intensely now, and a heartbreaking smile pulled up his lips as Charlie took note of this—and gripped the bottom of his t-shirt, lifting it over his head. Her eyes were captivated by the hard muscles in his wide chest, the tan skin there scarred in various places, reminders of wounds received long ago.
He stood silent and still under her appraisal, and she let her fingers wander over the smooth scars that marked his shoulders, chest, and abdomen, wondering if fate would allow them enough time together for her to learn the story behind each of those marks, or if the most of him would forever remain a mystery to her.
She swallowed hard, her chest rising and falling more rapidly as each intake of breath brought with it Charlie’s scent. He had not moved an inch since she’d removed his shirt, as if he was afraid his touch might break her. Surah could not help a small, sad smile at this, because in a way, she supposed it had.
One last deep breath, and she pulled her shirt over her head, tossing it aside, standing bare before him. Still, Charlie did not move, only stared into her eyes as if an eternal fire burned there. Her fingers barely made it to the button on her pants when his paralysis broke, and he lifted her into his solid arms as though she weighed nothing.
The feel of her bare chest against his made a fire swirl in her stomach that she was sure would scorch her soul were it not extinguished with a hurry. Then his lips were on hers, her eyes squeezing shut and her mouth exploring his with a hunger that rivaled that of a Great Beast. Tears broke free despite her closed eyes, but for the first time in what felt like forever, they were not tears of sadness, but those of true joy.
She knew then that he’d been right. All of it, everything that had happened, and everything that was still to come, was worth it.
His strong hands gripped her thighs, her legs wrapping around him and squeezing tight. Her fingers trailed over the hard muscles in his back, her head falling back and a sigh escaping her lips as his warm tongue drew small circles on the tender skin of her neck.
Charlie carried her over to the bed, laying her down as gently as one might a newborn child, his large body poised over her, his eyes staring straight through her and into the depths of her soul. She pulled him down to her, their bodies flush against one another, their hearts beating perfectly in time. In nearly a thousand years of life, Surah could not remember ever being as happy and content as she was in this moment, and more than anything, it made her realize that she would fight to the death to keep this man at her side.
Her mouth opened and the words fell out before she could stop them. “I’ll kill anyone who tries to take you from me, Charlie,” she said, and her cheeks immediately reddened as she heard how crazy that sounded spoken out loud.
His lips pulled up in that heart-breaking half smile, and he unbuckled his pants and kicked them off, his eyes never leaving hers. Surah lifted her bottom and allowed him to remove hers as well.
And then there was nothing between them at all, no separation to speak of. The four walls of the cabin cut them off from all the realms, shielding them in their own little world, if only for a few stolen moments for which the two lovers had risked everything.
Nothing between them at all, except for all the stars in the sky, and all the love in the world.
CHAPTER 25
BLACK HEART
Tristell the Fae Queen fell to the side, sliding off her lover with harsh air still tearing in and out of her lungs. Her lover lay at her side, staring up at the sky through the canopies of the strange trees that made up the Fae Forest.
“Michael was distracted,” she said, her sweet, high voice close in his ear.
He turned his head to the side and raised a dark brow at her. “By the sounds you were making, I wouldn’t think so,” he said.
The Fae Queen waved a sharp-nailed hand at this, her slanted eyes narrowing. “Just because Michael’s still a good lover when he’s distracted does not change the fact that he was distracted.” Her red lips pushed out in a pout.
He sighed, crossed his hands behind his head, shifting on the soft makeshift bed of leaves below him. “Well, you’ll have to forgive me,” he snapped. “I’ve got a lot on my mind.”
Her sharp grin widened, and he wondered at the way his anger only ever seemed to excite her. Say what you want about Tristell the Fae Queen, but she was one unique creature, any way you cut it. He just wasn’t much in the mood for her games at the moment. Too much was still hanging in the balance, too much to still be done.
“You’re still worried about involving Dagon,” she said. It was not a question.
“Dark Lords are even more untrustworthy than Leprechauns. Of course I’m concerned.”
She hopped up with that animal-like agility that was so common among her kind, and began rubbing her back up against the bark of the nearest tree, the large, feathered wings attached there shifting this way and that. “Michael needs to stop being afraid of the Dark Lord. It’s not attractive.”
He got to his feet, grabbing his pants from a bush near the base of a tall tree and pulling them on, his movements harsh and aggravated. “Only fools don’t fear the Lords, Dark or Light. Is that what I am to you, Tristell, a fool?”
She stopped her back scratching and approached him, a wide-eyed look on her beautiful face that Michael was beginning to question. “You agreed that taking the Magic away was a good idea. We killed a king because of it!”
His eyes narrowed, his hands clenching into fists at his side. “And yet I’m no closer to the Sorcerer throne. The kingdom has rallied behind the Sorceress despite her indiscretions.” He fixed her with a look that made her fold her arms over her chest. “And your people are concerned as well. I’d be surprised if the Peace Brokers aren’t all over this.”
Tristell’s face darkened like a sky during a thunderstorm. “Peace Brokers? You’re concerning yourself over those insects, those cowards? They do nothing but sit in shadows and whisper in corners! Besides, you knew what you were getting into. You can’t collect honey without rattling a few beehives. Michael wanted to overthrow a kingdom, but now Michael is scared.”
His hand shot out and gripped her throat, but for all the darkness in his black eyes, the Fae Queen only stared back at him with the darkness in her own, her sharp teeth bared in both excitement and anger.
“I’m not scared,” Michael told her.
One of her fine eyebrows arched. “No, of course not. Of course Michael isn’t scared.”
Releasing a heavy breath, he freed his grip and rested his hands instead on her shoulders. “Forgive me, my love,” he said.
Her sharp grin pulled up at one corner of her mouth, her slanted eyes glittering. “Don’t apologize, Michael. Kings do not apologize.” She jerked out of his hold and spun on her heel, her long, multi-colored dress fluttering around her ankles. “Besides, I know what’s really plaguing Michael.” Her voice lowered to a near mocking tone. “I know what his real weakness is.”
“Watch your tongue, Tris,” he threatened.
“Or what?” she spat. “You’ll cut it out? I know you Sorcerers are fond of doing that. And we both know it’s your precious Charlie-Boy who’s got your stomach all in knots. He’s the thing Michael is really worried about.”
“He’s my brother.”
“He betrayed you!”
“I betrayed him first!” He shouted back.
In the pastel colored canopies above, a bird or two took flight, and following the small sound of beating win
gs and fluttering leaves, that eerie silence the Fae Forest always had (only when the Fae Queen was near, but Michael didn’t know this because he only ever came here in her presence) hung over the place, making that one stray thought that he’d never meant to speak aloud seem to hang in the air before him.
I betrayed him first.
Tristell had scaled a large tree, and was perched on one of the lower branches, crouched the way a cat might, looking down at Michael with those ever-taunting slanted eyes, though there was no joke in them now. Her magnificent wings were tucked behind her, the dark cobalt feathers ruffled in both the literal and the figurative sense. She did nothing but stare down at him for so long that if Michael had a weaker poker face, he would have squirmed on his feet.
Instead, he only stared defiantly back at his crazy Faevian lover, the darkness in his own eyes reflected in hers. There was a devil sitting on both of their shoulders, constantly whispering of ill things, muttering bad omens on a loop that was so consistent it had become background music in their minds. Though Michael was only dimly aware of it, for lack of want to see the true nature of things, this was what truly united the two—a common desire to wreak havoc wherever they went.
As far as Tristell the Fae Queen knew, this was what one called love.
But Michael had not always been black at heart. There had been a time, be it long, long ago, that he’d known true love, had received it, as well as given it. And this thought, this brief, if completely earnest utterance of guilt, shook him down someplace deep and unvisited within him. He could not deny its truth, not with it being in such plain sight.
He had betrayed Charlie first. Gods knew he hadn’t meant to, but he had.
Tristell dropped in front of him like an angel cast out of heaven, her feet landing square on the ground before him and her strong, muscled legs bending with ease to absorb the shock. She stood from her slight crouch, as tall as Michael, eye to eye with him. She grabbed his chin with her long fingers, her sharp nails digging into the soft skin on his face.
Her lips came close enough to kiss as she leaned forward, dark eyes boring into his. Her deceptively sweet voice came out in an intimate whisper, a rarity from her that never failed to set his blood afire. “You are going to be a king, Michael,” she said. Her tongue flicked out across her full lips, drawing his eyes and stirring up heat deep in his stomach. “And when Michael is king, he will see that justice is finally served to all those who deserve it. He will finally avenge the lives of his parents, and he will be a champion of the common people. They will sing his name in the streets, write songs about him, build statues that will be bowed before for generations.”
He was becoming lost in her words, in the sweet way she spoke them, in her. His hands came up and gripped her hips hard, his fingers digging deeply into the soft flesh there, earning a small gasp from her. Her head tilted back, eyes rolling, and Michael tasted the smooth, sweet skin on her neck.
Her slanted eyes stared up through the trees and at the sky, a grin pulling up her mouth as she urged him onward, clutching at his back with one hand while burying her fingers deep into his hair with the other. “And when Michael is king, we will merge our Territories and get back what was taken from us.”
Michael pulled back, his dark eyes wide with what he thought she was suggesting. “Tris,” he said, “you mean…?”
She nodded, devil on her shoulder and glint in her gaze. “That’s right,” she said. “Once we take the Sorcerer throne, we can settle things down and start our family.” She rubbed at her stomach, which was just beginning to bulge. “I am with Michael’s child.”
With those words, Michael Redmine felt a new surge of resolve, his black heart thudding loudly in his chest. “You’re pregnant?” he asked, because part of him just couldn’t swallow the news down. He had to hear her say it again.
“Yes!” she said, and jumped up and down, her hands clapping in her characteristic way.
Michael wrapped her in his arms and spun her around in a circle. When he set her back down, she fixed him with a serious look. “You see?” she said. “We must finish what we started. We must make our worlds safer for our little one to be. Does Michael see that now?”
He nodded, devil on his shoulder and glint in his eyes. “I see,” he said. “Clear as crystal.”
CHAPTER 26
CHARLIE
As a simple common man, Charlie had never had much use for Magic, but if he could, he would use all the Magic of the Sorcerer kind and freeze time. He would live in this moment for an eternity, her in his arms, her body tucked closely against his, forever.
But they needed to get a move on, that clock hanging over their heads had begun to tick again now that they’d had each other and had satisfied the hunger they ignited in one another. For the time being, at least.
Her head was resting on his chest, her lavender hair spilling over him like a silk blanket. He’d taken her three times already, and thought if she shifted at all he would toss her onto her back and do it again. Hell, if she even looked up at him again with those vibrant violet eyes, the two of them may never leave this cabin. The entirety of all the realms could be burning down outside these walls, and Charlie Redmine would not give one damn.
He ran his hands slowly up the soft skin of her arms, his fingers trailing the small black lightning-shaped tattoos there that marked all the lives she’d taken. She shivered under his touch, making that warmth spread through his stomach again, stirring a part of him that should be more than exhausted.
“I don’t want leave this room,” she mumbled, lifting her head and trailing kisses up his chest. Would he never get enough of this woman?
“You read my mind,” Charlie said, his voice low and rough. “And if you keep doin’ that, we won’t.”
She laughed, a somehow sweet and throaty sound that only made him want her more. Looking up at him through dark lashes, she said, “Tell me again why we have to?”
This made him smile, and he kissed her forehead before sighing and staring up at the ceiling. “Because a Dark Lord, a crazy Fae Queen and a Dark Sorcerer—”
“Walked into a bar?” she interrupted.
Charlie laughed and shook his head. “I wish. That might do them some good. Instead, they want to take your throne and start a war.” He paused, looking down at her beautiful face. Her chin was resting atop her hands, which were resting atop his chest. “But if you want to just say fuck it and stay here for the rest of forever, you won’t get an argument outta me.”
“Fuck it, then,” she said, a twinkle coming into her eyes.
“If only we could live with that.”
Surah let out a slow breath and pulled reluctantly out of his arms. He watched her naked form as she gathered her clothing, wondering at how every inch of her could be such perfection. He’d imagined this scene thousands of times in his head over the long years of his life that he’d spent without her, but his imagination had never done her justice. Surah was all muscle and curves, the smoothest of skin and the fairest of features. She moved like liquid, with a fluidity that made her seem as though she was always dancing. Such queenly demeanor—a certain confident set to her shoulders, a straightness in her back—mixed with the ability of the best of warriors, a skill the black marks on her arms proved she’d honed over the years.
The sheer amount of admiration he had for her was enough to stun him into silence as he lay in the bed they’d just shared and watched her move about the cabin.
Pulling her shirt over her head, she turned and saw him staring at her. A crooked smile pulled up one corner of her lips and her head tilted ever so slightly to the side. “If you weren’t so attractive, Charlie Redmine,” she said, “the way you’re staring at me right now would creep me out.”
He chuckled a bit at this, sitting up and grabbing his t-shirt from a nearby chair. “I guess it’s a good thing I’m so attractive then.”
She tossed him a smile, then grew silent as she folded herself into one of the chairs that accompanied
a small round table in the corner. Taking a deep breath, she set out the two Stones, one black, and one white. They gleamed against the wood of the table in stark contrast.
Charlie came over and sat in the chair across from her, the mood in the small space abruptly serious. “Is it dangerous?” he asked, unable to pull his eyes away from the Black Stone for a moment longer than he was comfortable with.
Surah lifted her own gaze away from the Black Stone, but its reflection gleamed in the violet of her eyes, making them look nearly onyx. “You’re asking me if casting a Dark Spell and visiting the Underworld is dangerous?”
Charlie sat back in his seat, a sheepish grin on his face. “I guess it sounds pretty stupid when you put it like that. I’ll just… uh… keep quiet.”
Surah winked at him, making his heart skip a beat in his chest. “That’s just how I like my men.”
He shook his head at this and watched her as she took one last breath and sat up straight, resting her hands atop the table. She closed her eyes, her pretty features smoothing out in concentration. Her hands lifted from the table, fingers hovering over the Black Stone, which began to glow against the wood where it rested.
The shift in the atmosphere in the small cabin was immediate. It seemed to Charlie that the heavy feeling was all around, but somehow within as well, as if it were radiating out of his stomach. The small crease between Surah’s eyebrows was the only indication that she felt it just the same.
Time passed. How much, Charlie could not be sure. It felt like both seconds and hours, a certain thrilling agony that came with being so near to such Dark Magic. It enveloped them both, cradling them as might an unforgiving lover, pulling them into its chest and holding them tight.
It was harder to breathe, and the harsh rise and fall of Surah’s chest, the thin sheen of sweat that broke out across her brow, matched his own. The temperature in the cabin seemed to have gone up about twenty degrees. Charlie sat at the edge of his chair, his face slightly strained and his eyes locked on his queen. He wasn’t sure how much more of this he could stand, and realized with something of a jolt just how powerful the woman he loved truly was.