by Vivi Anna
Aching, throbbing, she wrapped her hands around his arms, unsure what she wanted him to do. Go fast, go slow, she couldn’t decide. She was spinning, whirling out of control.
“I won’t hurt you.”
“I know.” She dug her fingers into his arms. She trusted him with her body, and with her heart. She knew he’d never intentionally hurt her. Not now, not ever.
Nudging her legs apart, he knelt between them, keeping his hands on her hips, rubbing his thumbs in circles over her skin to soothe her.
“Bend your knees for me, Corina darling.”
Hesitantly, she brought her knees up, feeling open and vulnerable. But at the same time, it excited her, made her ache that much more. It was the craving she saw in Rhys’s eyes that completely took her under desire’s spell. The fact that he wanted her so badly made her feel even more desirable.
Biting her lip, she watched as his eyes drank her in. The color of his eyes darkened, like a turbulent storm, and the look on his face was one of longing and hunger.
She’d never felt anything so corporeal before, so intense. She bowed her back as he stroked her, boldly slipping a finger into her. She cried out, tangling her hands into the sheets on the bed. More pleasure washed over her as he manipulated her, adding another finger, alternating between fast and slow, readying her for him. She was dizzy by the time she realized that he’d removed his fingers and was nuzzled against her opening.
“Relax, darling. I’ll go slow.” He spoke through gritted teeth.
She could tell that he struggled with restraint. His arms shook, and sweat rolled down his face to drip onto her belly. She liked that it was an effort for him to not to go fast, that he took care to go slow. With a slow, practiced stroke, he inched into her then stopped. She released her breath, allowing her body to adjust to him. The pain came then, as something tore inside. But it was gone as quickly as it came.
Leaning forward, he pushed a little more of himself into her. She reached up and gripped his shoulders, digging her fingers in. “I won’t break, Rhys. I promise.”
Clamping his eyes shut, he fell forward and drove the rest of the way into her. A little more pain flared up her thighs and over her belly. But the moment Rhys started to move inside her, the pain receded and only pleasure washed through her.
She wrapped her arms around him as he took her up. He found her mouth and kissed her hard. For every stroke of his tongue, he matched it with a stroke down below. Hooking her legs over his hips, she arched up to meet him.
He buried his hands in her hair as he drove into her, taking her to the edge. Nipping along her jaw, he panted into her ear. She could feel the scrape of his teeth on her skin.
“You are mine forever.” Then he buried himself deep, to her very center.
Crying out, she raked her nails over his back. A different type of heat radiated over her, from her, from him. It was similar to what she sensed when he’d performed his magic. Energy surged through her, over her and onto him. Back and forth the force went, around and over every part of their bodies, covering them both in a heated layer of power.
Writhing underneath Rhys’s powerful form, Corina sensed she was near the verge. She could hardly breathe, she could barely think. She could only feel. Every nerve ending in her body fired, every cell seemed to explode, every muscle clenched in readiness. With every thrust, she drew closer and closer, until finally everything around her exploded into a blinding white ball of light. Squeezing her eyes shut, Corina screamed as she came.
“Oh, Rhys.” She clasped her legs around him, trying desperately to hang on as her orgasm took her hard in its grip.
Clutching her tight around the shoulders, Rhys pumped once, then twice, then slammed into her and came, burying his face into her neck. She felt every powerful surge as he emptied himself inside her.
She didn’t know how long it was before she could think, let alone move. Breathing hard, she ran a hand up and down Rhys’s back, enjoying the feel of his sweaty skin. He groaned and lifted himself off her to roll onto his back. His arm was over his face and he groaned again.
She giggled. “I didn’t realize it would be like that.”
Removing his arm, Rhys glanced at her and smiled. He tugged on her, drawing her close into the crook of his arm. Once there, he stroked her arm with his fingers, then found her mouth with his. He kissed her so thoroughly that it made her toes curl all over again.
“When do we have to go?” she asked, nuzzling into him.
“Soon.”
“Can we just lie like this for a while? Until we have to go.”
He kissed her temple and the tip of her nose. “At some point we’ll have to get dressed.”
“I know, but right now I just want to be here with you like this.”
Tears welled in her eyes. A sense of dread had enveloped her. She had a feeling that this moment together would be their last. In this world at least. It was one of those feelings that she’d had before. The day before her mother died. She should say something, to warn Rhys maybe, but she didn’t have the heart to tell him.
Besides that, it wouldn’t make a difference. He once told her he wouldn’t let anything stand in his way in finding Sebastian. Even his own demise.
Chapter Twenty-One
They found the gypsy camp just outside St. Malo. It consisted of nine wagons, each painted with bright and decorative colors, arranged in a U-shape. In the middle was a communal fire pit. This was where they found Senti, the caravan leader, sitting on a wooden stump drinking from a large clay jug.
Rhys approached the man, aware of the thirty plus sets of eyes on him and the others. He had to tread lightly, as they were not a trusting people and rumors abounded about their hostile treatment of others. “You are Senti, I am told.”
The withered, weather-worn man nodded.
“I’m Rhys Davenport. We seek safe passage to Mont-Saint-Michel.”
“You pay?” His accent was thick and barely decipherable.
“Yes, of course.” Rhys turned to Jovan, who tossed him a small pouch of coins. Rhys opened the bag and showed the man the gold inside. “Twenty gold pieces.”
But Senti didn’t even look inside. He sucked on his teeth then gestured around. “You each pay personal debt.”
“I don’t know what you mean?” Rhys said. “Is twenty gold not enough? Surely this would buy you land and houses to put on it.”
Corina stepped up. “He means we each must pay with something personal. Something we are carrying or wearing. Something with meaning.”
Senti nodded. “Girl is true.”
Rhys glanced at Corina, then Jovan and Skylar.
The Druid unpinned her elaborate top hat and handed it to the woman who’d been hovering around her, eyeing the feathered and jeweled cap since they arrived.
“Oh for heaven’s sake.” Jovan handed Skylar his walking stick—he’d never give that up as it had been a gift from Skylar—and stripped off his expensive jacket.
One of the gypsy men took it from him and gestured to his feet.
“You want my boots as well?”
The man nodded eagerly.
“The portal better be there, brother, or you owe me a new jacket and boots.” He plunked down on the ground and took off his boots.
The man happily took them and gave Jovan a toothless grin.
Senti pointed at Rhys. He thought the old man would demand his cane, but instead he said, “Watch.”
Rhys pulled on the chain of his pocket watch attached to his waistcoat. He ran this thumb over it, and popped it open. He didn’t look at the time but at the inscription on the inside. Be your own timekeeper. Something Sebastian often said. He’d inscribed it on the watch and had given it to Rhys for his twentieth birthday. It was just a watch, a reminder of his brother, it was no substitute for him. So he pulled it out and handed it to the old gypsy man.
Senti took it with a nod and slipped it into his jacket. Then he pointed to Corina. “Now girl.”
Corina looked to Rhys. She had a look of panic on her face. She put her hands out to the side.
“I have nothing to give, except this dress.” She pulled at the skirt of her simple frock.
Senti sucked on his teeth again. “Ring.”
Corina’s other hand covered the ring on her finger. Her face paled and she shook her head.
“Pick something else,” Rhys demanded as he put an arm around her.
“The ring or no travel.”
Rhys squeezed her shoulder. “It’s all right, love, we’ll find another way.”
“Rhys,” Jovan said, “What’s going on?”
Rhys glared at his brother. “It’s not your concern.”
Jovan was about to respond, when Corina said, “There is no other way.” She twisted the ring on her finger, tears rolling down her cheeks. “It must be done to find Sebastian.”
“My darling girl, it’s time to let go.”
Rhys startled as Mrs. Stratton’s voice sounded loudly in his head.
Corina’s eyes widened. “You can hear her?”
“Yes.”
“Of course he can hear me. He has the gift. Why else do you think you two fit so well? Like calls to like.”
“Mother, I’m so sorry. I wanted to save you.”
“Listen to me, daughter, for once without arguing. I haven’t always been the best mother but I’m proud of the woman you’ve become despite me. And I can gladly leave, knowing you’ve found a good man to be at your side. You don’t need me anymore, girl, you never much did to begin with. You have all you need inside you to live a full happy life. Let me go.”
“What the bloody hell is going on?” Jovan asked.
Before Rhys could yell at him, Skylar touched his arm and drew him away. “It’s not our concern, darling.”
The tears came hard and fast as Corina twisted off her ring. If Rhys could’ve taken her pain away, he would’ve. He knew exactly how she was feeling. He understood the depth of her despair—hadn’t he just experienced it only days ago. He pressed his lips to her temple.
“Take care of my girl, Rhys Davenport.”
“I will. I promise.”
With the ring tight in her fist, Corina let it drop into Senti’s outstretched hand. When it was done, she curled into Rhys’s side, burying her face in his chest.
He stroked a hand down her back. “Maybe when we come back...”
She shook her head. “It’s all right. I’ve been so selfish, holding on for so long. I kept her so I wouldn’t be alone. Sometimes we have to let go.”
He kissed the top of her head as he held her tight. She was right about letting go. He just hoped he never had to make that decision.
“Besides,” she sniffled, “she was getting cranky. The gypsies will have a fun time with her.”
Shaking his head, Rhys lifted her chin and pressed his lips to hers. “You have a wonderful way of looking at the bright side.”
She laughed, and for a moment Rhys thought everything might turn out just right.
* * *
The road to Mont-Saint-Michel was long and bumpy in the back of a caravan. Rhys sat beside Corina, holding her hand, while Jovan sat with Skylar, doing the same. He looked small without his jacket and shoes somehow. For once Rhys saw his little brother sitting there, uncertain of the future, of what was to come for them. Or maybe he was just feeling the enormity of the situation they were in. They didn’t speak. Not to each other, not to the gypsies. Rhys didn’t think there was much to say anyway. They had a plan and they were following it to the letter.
About two hours later, the wagon came to a stop. The gypsy leader beckoned to them to get out. “Viens. Viens.”
Once the four of them jumped out of the wagon and onto the rocky base of the abbey, the gypsies waved as they turned around and went back to St. Malo. Rhys hadn’t known what to expect of the church but it definitely wasn’t the walled-in stone structure built on its own little rocky island in the middle of nowhere. Everyone looked a bit awestruck by the sixth century monastery.
“It’s beautiful,” Corina said.
“I can feel the power from out here.” Skylar lifted her hand toward the building. “It feels somehow alive.”
“Obviously we’ve come to the right place.” Rhys wiped at his brow. Despite the setting sun, he was sweating. Nerves thrummed through his body. He sensed something extraordinary was going to take place. He just hoped it was the vortex opening and not something unexpected, like the appearance of the Morrigan. Wouldn’t they all be stunned if that happened? “Let’s go in.”
Inside the wall, a winding road led up to the church. It was dark and gloomy. No people were roaming the streets, no lights on in the small houses. Rhys wondered if there was anyone here. Surely monks still resided inside, at the very least as caretakers.
When they reached the center, where the church was, they went through the small stone gate. There was a guard house next to it, but as far as Rhys could tell it was empty, just like all the other buildings. The desolation gave off an eerie, lonely feeling and sent shivers down his back.
But still underneath it all was a hum of power. It was that sensation he followed.
Rhys led them into the main rectory, with its glorious twenty-foot ceilings and long windows that let in the natural light. The sun had not completely set so there was still a pre-dusk glow in the room.
He looked around at each of his companions. Jovan, his brother, and Skylar, his soon-to-be-sister-in-law, and Corina, his beloved.
Rhys looked at Jovan and squeezed his hand. “Are you ready, brother?”
“How will we find him?”
“Don’t worry. He knows we’re coming.” Rhys turned to Corina. Her eyes were wide, afraid. “It’s all right. We’re going to be fine.”
“I’m afraid.”
“So am I. So don’t let go, no matter what.”
She shook her head. “I won’t.”
He gave everyone one last look. “This is it. This is where we open the door.”
“No, this is where you perish.” Darin stepped out of the shadows. And he wasn’t alone. Four elves surrounded him, each dressed for combat in chain mail and helms, and carrying swords.
“You can’t defeat us, Hawthorne.” Jovan’s hands sparked to life. Within seconds, his palms were filled with blue flames.
Skylar had her bo out, ready to fight at a moment’s notice.
Now that Rhys could create corporeal illusions, he was already concocting his next design in his head, preparing to unleash it. A pair of hungry lions seemed like the ideal creation. But h
e was so busy doing that, he failed to see the problem with their strategy. Corina was out in the open and vulnerable.
And Darin noticed it first.
He launched ahead and snagged Corina by the arm, pulling her to him. She struggled but it was to no avail. He was stronger and already had the telltale flames of fire forming in his hands.
“I’ll kill her if you move,” Darin said.
One of the elves stepped forward. “No one needs to die, if you just leave this holy place and forget this folly of opening a vortex.”
Skylar pointed her bo at him. “Amathon. I should’ve known you’d be behind this. My father will be furious when he finds out.”
“Lord Soren is a fool. His place on the council is tentative at best.” Amathon tore off his helm. “He’s a fool to allow you to mix with a sorcerer. You’re killing your bloodline, Skylar Vanguard.”
“And you’re killing any honor you ever possessed,” she said.
“Enough talk,” Darin said, wrapping a hand around Corina’s neck. “This is over. I win.”
Her eyes bulged as he squeezed. Within seconds, Rhys was on the run toward them, releasing his magic along the way. Two tigers instantly formed, one on each side, and he sent them after the elves. The sound of claws on metal echoed off the stone walls. But all Rhys could focus on was Corina’s gasp for oxygen.
He was just about to get to her, when she reached down under her skirt and came away with the tiny pistol Mrs. Chattoway had given her. Corina turned the barrel toward Darin and pulled the trigger. The shot barely rang out, but it did its damage. By the time Rhys had Corina cradled in his arms, there was a black smoking hole through Darin’s hand. He was clutching it, shrieking in agony.
“Are you all right?” Rhys smoothed a hand over her head.
She nodded and coughed. “I’m fine.”
Rhys turned to see how his brother and Skylar were doing. Jovan was firing blue orbs of flames at the elves as they ducked behind benches, and Skylar was toe-to-toe with Amathon, she with her bo, and he with a sword. She was quick and evaded all his slashes. He on the other hand wasn’t as lucky and she struck him twice across the head. One of the tigers had an elf pinned on the floor, while its twin was licking its jowls prepared to wrench off an arm for a drumstick.