by Jasmine Walt
My nose and ears led me to a spring a good two miles into the dense vegetation, and I drank greedily, then rolled around in the cool water for a bit. Ahhh, bliss. In animal form, my human worries felt much less urgent – as a beast, all I cared about was slaking my immediate needs.
Once I was satisfied, however, I remembered that I needed to figure out where the hell I was. A quick climb up a tall, long-limbed tree with thick, dark green leaves told me what I needed to know. Clinging to the trunk, I swiveled my head, taking in the miles and miles of sparkling blue sea that stretched in all directions, broken only by a tiny land mass off in the distance.
I was on a fucking island. And unless I was very much mistaken, there was no sign of civilization here.
Climbing down the tree, I began to explore the forest, wondering if there might not be indigenous people living among them. I needed to get the lay of the land, find out exactly what I was up against. If there were people around, maybe they had some kind of boat or canoe that I could commandeer.
And then what? I scoffed at myself. You don’t know the first thing about sailing, and even if you did, you have no idea where to go.
Yeah, okay. Maybe that was true, but I’d cross that bridge if and when I came to it.
I padded back out to the beach again, still in panther form, and did a walk around the island. My little stroll turned up no boats, canoes, or fishing contraptions of any kind, and the only footprints I came across were my own, when after some two hours, I finally came back to where I started.
Upon re-entering the forest, I immediately forgot all about searching for human life when the appetizing scent of blood hit my nostrils. Wild boar. I stalked the scent to a small clearing about a mile away, where I found the wounded boar drinking from a stream. Quills sticking out from its right rear leg told me it had recently lost a tangle with a porcupine, but that wasn’t a deterrent – I simply attacked from the left instead. The boar squealed when I pounced from the trees, gathering its legs beneath it and trying to make a run for the safety of the undergrowth, but it was in pain, and I was much faster. It didn’t take long to bring it down.
Two hours later, after my impromptu meal and a long nap, I resumed my search, heading deeper and deeper into the forest. Aside from a confrontation with a large snake, I ran across absolutely nothing of interest until the terrain suddenly grew steeper, and the scent of bat droppings thickened the air.
Following the pungent scent, I climbed what I rapidly realized was a hill, probably near the center of the island, and came to a cave hidden in the hillside by dense foliage. I was deliberating whether or not the cave was worth exploring when the wind shifted, strengthening the scent of the bat poop.
But it also brought just the faintest whiff of magic.
Okay, now I have to go inside, I thought. Magic was the absolute last thing I expected to encounter on a deserted island. I crept into the darkness of the cave with caution, going slow so I could give my eyes time to adjust to the darkness. About thirty yards in, the cave floor dropped off steeply, and my nose and ears told me the bats’ lair was down this way. But to my left, there was a small tunnel, and as I drew closer to it, the scent of magic grew stronger.
I crept along the narrow shaft for a good hundred yards before it opened up again into a wider space. There was absolutely no light there, so I shifted back into human form, then conjured a ball of fire.
My jaw dropped as I held my impromptu flashlight aloft. I’d just found somebody’s hidey-hole. There was an ancient-looking wooden desk and a chair in one corner, a small cot with bedding, a carved chest, and a shelf filled with old, leather-bound books. The air was cool and dry, quite unlike the humid air outside, and surprisingly, there was no dust or bat guano at all. Excitement filled me, temporarily banishing my worries as I wondered who had lived here on this island, and whether the contents of this strange chamber could help me find a way off it.
Carefully, I started pulling books off the shelf, taking care not to crack their leather bindings further or damage their fragile pages. Janta would have been proud of me. Unfortunately, most of the books seemed to be advanced magical tomes written in Loranian, but a smaller book filled with cramped writing turned out to be a diary of the mage who’d called this place home. The yellowed pages told me his name had been Messindor, and that he was a pirate hailing from the far southeast. This cave was one of several hiding places he kept across the world, mostly on islands close to or south of the equator. Judging by the gaps in entry dates, he only updated the diary when he was in residence here every other year or so.
“Three hundred years,” I muttered, staring at the date of the final entry. This pirate mage had last entered this cave close to three-hundred years ago. That, or he’d gotten tired of journaling. It was unlikely that he was still alive, but perhaps he had grown weary of piracy and retired to a more hospitable isle than this one before meeting his end.
With nothing more of relevance to learn from the diary, I searched the desk drawers. I found some old coins, a congealed inkwell and a few quills, and a couple of pieces of parchment in one. Another held several rolled-up maps, which I laid across the table, using the coins as paperweights. One of the maps was of the Coracciao, a group of tropical islands south of the Northia Continent. There was a group of dots on the map that were a little way off from the main cluster of islands, closer to the Southia Continent, and a red arrow was pointing to one of the islands, possibly indicating my location.
Okay, so I wasn’t so far from civilization that my location wasn’t on a map. But I was far enough away that most people looking at said map would have a hard time even finding the island I was standing on.
The second map was of the island itself, with exes marked in different spots. I imagined these were the locations of various caches Messindor had scattered all over the island, in case he couldn’t get back to the main one he had here. It would help pass the time to track them down. I kept it on the desk while I rolled the other map up and put it away.
In the last drawer, I found various magical charms and amulets, including yet another gulaya, bigger than the one that had brought me here. I picked up the star-shaped charm and sniffed it, but could only detect a hint of magic – it was no longer charged. Oh well. I had no idea where this one would take me even if it did work, and I didn’t have the means to charge it myself.
The wooden chest was possibly the most perplexing thing in the room. It was beautifully crafted, with a variety of runes carved into the dark wood, but there was no way to open it. I could see the seam where the lid met the container, but it was impossible to fit even the tiniest sliver of fingernail beneath it, and there was no visible lock. I considered smashing the chest, but I didn’t want to harm the contents, and besides, it smelled strongly enough of magic that I feared some kind of magical retaliation if I did so.
With nothing else to do, I curled up on the cot and tried to sleep. The bedding was remarkably well preserved, as was everything else in this room aside from the dried ink. The scent of magic clinging to the air made me wonder whether the mage had set some sort of preservation spell on this chamber to hold everything in a magical stasis, so that time or the elements could not harm his possessions. That would be a useful spell, especially for a pirate who had to stash treasure and supplies in all manner of places. I decided I would ask Iannis to teach it to me, if I saw him again.
When I saw him again, I reminded myself firmly. Iannis would come to rescue me. He had to.
My eyelids closed as sleep found me, but instead of dark, dreamless sleep, the heat assailed me, fire creeping in my veins, phantom caresses sliding across my skin. Memories of Iannis swirled in my mind, of his hands on my naked skin, his deceptively wicked mouth on my lips, his seductive sandalwood scent invading my space. His presence forced all thought out of my head, leaving only my desire for him.
“I want you to be mine, and only mine,” Iannis whispered darkly into my ear. His tongue flicked out to caress my earlobe, and I shu
ddered as more intense heat lashed me. But when I reached for him, my hands only met empty air, and I found myself back in the cot, my clothes on the floor and my limbs tangled in a sweaty blanket. Frustrated, I ripped off the sheet and made my way out of the room and down the tunnel.
Standing at the cave entrance, I allowed the cooler night air to caress my naked skin. The touch was both a curse and a blessing, as it took the edge off my overheated skin and reminded me of the real, physical touch I desperately craved. The full moon was finally here, taunting me with its bright, shiny roundness as it hung over the sea. For whatever reason, the light of the moon increased a shifter’s power; we were stronger and able to shift more quickly during the full moon. But when a female shifter was in heat, the full moon only amplified her desperate need.
Remember your heritage, Resinah’s voice whispered as the breeze picked up, swirling around me. You are not merely the sum of your parts, Sunaya Baine. Whole, you have the potential to be stronger than both your shifter and mage ancestors.
I sighed in relief as Resinah’s cooling breeze drew the heat out of me, and with it, the fog of lust clouding my mind. Whole, I thought, looking at the full moon. I had the capability of being stronger than a mage or a shifter, if I could figure out how to combine my two halves into a whole. That was something I could try to work on while I was stuck on this lonely island.
I only hoped that Iannis would come to find me, as I’d found him, and that when he arrived, my sanity wouldn’t be splintered into a thousand pieces.
23
“I am going absolutely bat-shit crazy,” I muttered, swinging from one tree branch to another like the damned howler monkeys that were chittering away in the branches across from me. Unlike them, I wasn’t doing this because I was trying to get anywhere. After a whole week on the island, I was literally bored out of my fucking mind, and with little else to do, I was mimicking the wildlife while figuring out new ways to train my muscles.
It turned out that the local animal population was a lot less scared of me when I was in human form. I thought they still sensed the predator in me, because a lot of them stayed away, but the howler monkeys had grown used to me to the point that they didn’t even run away when I tried to climb into their trees. Of course, some of the animals had good reason to fear me, especially the white-tailed deer – whenever I got hungry, I’d simply change into beast form and go hunting, and deer and the wild pigs were on the top of my menu list. I’d also tried fresh fish and lobster while swimming in the ocean as a panther, but they were harder to catch, and I had to eat a lot more of them to satiate myself.
During the first couple of days, I’d gone around the island with the map I’d found, locating Messindor’s ancient caches. Some of them were tougher to find than others, and each of them held something different. One had a pair of pistols, a small sack of gunpowder, and a box of blackened bullets that I scalded my fingers on before I realized they were silver. Another location turned out to be a cellar dug into the ground and filled with glass jugs of booze, no longer drinkable. But in a third one, I’d found a clay jar filled with gold that was heavy enough to pay my food and rent for the next few years.
Not that money was a concern for me right now. Or booze. Or guns. Most of the stuff I unearthed was fairly useless to a person in my position, but I did take the gold back to Messindor’s cave dwelling. If I ever got off this forsaken island, it would definitely come in handy.
As I swung my body from one tree to the next, a howler monkey took offense to my encroachment of his territory, and it lobbed a bright red fruit at my head. I ducked barely in time, then shot him a glare as he chittered angrily at me. Looking up, I saw a female in the branch above me, holding tightly onto the baby monkey wrapped around her chest, and sighed. The guy didn’t want me disturbing his family.
Dropping down to the ground, I made my way to the beach and took up my usual spot beneath a shady tree just at the edge of the forest. The sun was halfway through its descent to the horizon now, and soon would be setting on my seventh day on this island. I always sat out here for a few hours in the very early morning, and then again in the later afternoon, to keep a lookout in case any ships passed by that I could signal. None had as yet, and it was hard not to feel as if the entire world had forgotten my existence. I’d stopped checking on the serapha charm after my fourth day on the island. It was too disheartening not to see any change in the distance between Iannis and me, even though I knew he had to be coming. Maybe the charm just didn’t register change in distance outside a certain radius.
I wished I had some sort of scrying glass, or that I knew how to make one, so I could see what was happening in Solantha. How was the shifter community faring? Had they heeded my advice and withdrawn their support for the Resistance? Or had the ones who’d been released from prison decided to take up arms against the Mages Guild in retaliation for the injustice committed against them? Had the Mages Guild confirmed definitively that Thorgana was the Benefactor, and had they gotten anything useful out of her? And what about Chartis and Yantz? Were they finally in custody, or had they escaped yet again?
I wanted to think everything was going well, but I couldn’t help but worry that things were out of hand. What else could be taking Iannis so long to come find me? The city must still be in danger, or he would be here already. After all, he’d said he loved me. He’d said he wanted me to be his.
Stop that, I snapped at myself as tears smarted at my eyes. There was no point speculating as to the reasons behind Iannis’s absence. He’d proven his faith in me when he’d organized the raid on Thorgana’s mansion based on my say-so, and I needed to have faith in him. He would come. I believed that with every fiber of my being.
I just wished he’d hurry the hell up.
I wasn’t sure how long I stared at the horizon, but my vision eventually blurred, and I fell asleep. It wasn’t a deep sleep – I never allowed myself to fall asleep completely while I was out in the open – but more like a trance, allowing my mind to drift while keeping my ears and nose alert for any threatening changes in my environment.
Sometime later, the sound of footsteps on wet sand caught my attention, and a familiar sandalwood scent followed close behind the sound. My eyes popped open, and I squinted against the brilliant orange-and-gold sunset as my heart began to pump hard and fast. Could it be?
A tall, broad-shouldered figure, backlit by the sun, was walking toward me, his long hair rippling in the wind. He was dressed in a loose, button-up shirt and shorts rather than his usual robes, but his addictive, masculine scent was unmistakable, and my heart leapt in my chest. Beyond, I could make out a small sailing boat at anchor in the bay.
“Iannis,” I whispered, stumbling to my feet. He picked up the pace as I rushed to meet him, and the next thing I knew, I was in his arms. He lifted me off my feet and swung me around, kissing me until I forgot I was on a deserted island, forgot I was anywhere but in his arms. He tasted like the sea, but also like Iannis, and I greedily clutched at his broad shoulders, wrapping my legs around his hips as I pressed my body tight against his.
“You came,” I gasped against his mouth between ravenous kisses. “You finally came.”
“Of course I came for you.” He pulled back a little to meet my gaze. His hands tangled in my hair, and he cupped the sides of my head as he searched my eyes. “Did you doubt I would?”
“No,” I said honestly, and I kissed him again, clawing at his shirt. “What the hell are you wearing?” I muttered as I fumbled with the buttons.
“Sailing attire,” he growled as he lowered us to the sandy beach. “I can’t wear mage robes for every activity, you know.”
His shirt was half-undone now, and I slid a palm up the expanse of his chest, marveling at the warm, silken touch of skin poured over hard muscle. Man, but he was sexy as hell, with his dark, cherry-wood hair tangling in the wind and his gorgeous violet eyes burning with desire. The brilliant sunset backlit his form, making him look like some kind of god glowing wi
th celestial flame.
“Did you really sail all the way here?” I asked, popping another button open on his shirt.
Iannis grinned. “That would have taken too long. I used an airship for most of the distance. When I realized you were on a deserted island, I hired the boat for the last bit. It seemed worth the small delay for the added privacy.”
“I imagine the serapha told you where to go, but what happened after I was whisked away? Did you realize what had happened to me?”
His expression darkened. “Not right away. When I rushed downstairs and there was no trace of you – only that murderer, Yantz – I feared the worst.”
“Only Yantz? Argon Chartis was not there?”
“No, he managed to sneak away again. We only learned what had happened from interrogating Yantz, and by that time, of course, Argon was long gone. Janta, from the library, came to me with a tale about an old gulaya … but how did you know it was still active?”
“The scent of magic,” I explained. “It seemed worth trying, at least.”
“I’m glad it did work, and it saved your hide. And even more glad we exchanged the serapha charms, to guide me to you.”
I nodded in agreement and slowly, teasingly, popped another button on his shirt.
Iannis arched a brow. “You’re awfully relaxed for someone who is in heat,” he commented, leaning forward and nipping at my lower lip.
I grinned. “The heat’s been over for several days now. Somehow, I managed to survive without you.”
He winced. “I am sorry I was not there when you needed me, Sunaya.”
“Don’t be sorry.” I brushed my thumb across one of his high cheekbones, drinking in the sight of his face. “You came as soon as you could. And I’m just happy you’re here now.”
“Well then,” he said, eyes drifting up and down my naked body – my leather pants had been ruined by the elements and my top was shredded, so I’d spent the majority of the past week running around naked. “Are you saying that you really want me? That this –” he brushed his thumb across my nipple, and I gasped, “isn’t just a side effect of your shifter heritage?”