Secret Magic (Chronicles of the Marked Book 2)

by S Lawrence

  “You’re very funny.” He looks back at the ships. His brothers’ are almost gone from sight, Cyder’s is at the back, moving slightly slower. I can only imagine the turmoil the crew must be in. “We need to get moving.”

  A howl echoes through the forest but it isn’t Liam’s. Looking around us, I search but see nothing near us.

  “They have found our picnic,” Lash whispers. “No going back for the things there.” His hand runs over the gun in his waistband that I hadn’t noticed before, and then he bends down and pulls not one but two knives from his boot.

  Balancing them, he tests the weight of each and then flips one, holding the hilt out to me.

  “This one is small but deadly sharp, perfectly balanced, and will be easy for you to handle. Keep it tucked against the inside of your wrist like this.” He moves his own along his left wrist, showing me. “Keep it hidden until you are pulled in close, and then stab quick and as many times as you can. Go for the groin, belly, kidneys, throat, or under the arm. Try to cut arteries. You don’t want to injure. You want them to bleed out. You want them to die.”

  I stare at the knife in my hand for a minute before looking up at him, my nerves calmed.

  “I’ve butchered animals but I’ve never had to defend myself, never had to hurt someone,” I tell him because I don’t know if I can do what he had described.

  “You defended Hagen,” he reminds me.

  “I did, but that was different, that was…” I pause, not sure what to say, what to call the power that is coming to life within me.

  “Magic,” he answers for me. “You might not even need the knife, but I feel better with you having it.”

  He looks out at the water one last time before turning toward the forest. He holds his hand out, and I take it, letting him start us on our journey. We walk in silence until the sun starts to set. I slow when I see a tree with low branches thick with foliage, growing right up against a sheer cliff of rock.

  “We should stop here.” I turn, looking over at him. “I can make a good shelter here.”

  He looked around with a small frown on his face.

  “Trust me.” I turn toward the tree. “Why don’t you gather firewood and get a fire started?”

  I can feel his eyes on me as I move around the area, gathering leaves and grasses for a bed. He finally starts to move, and I smile, my face turned away from him. He’s only gone a few minutes before he returns, his arms full of fallen branches. He breaks them up before placing them in an area I had cleared of debris. Before he starts the fire, he grabs rocks and circles the area to keep the flames contained.

  “Have you spent much time on land?” I call over my shoulder.

  “Not really. The longest was in the city we found. Before that, it was when I was with my family.” His voice grew quiet on the last few words.

  “Do you remember them? Your brothers each had some memories, although they also spoke of them fading,” I ask as I pull down a branch, using a separate branch to stake it to the ground.

  I repeat the process until I’ve made a cozy shelter just big enough for us.

  “I do. Barely.” His voice is right by my ear, and I jerk before he wraps his arms around me. “This looks amazing. You’ve got skills.”

  I let the subject of his family drop. Like the others, he doesn’t want to face memories of things he can’t have. I understand. I have my memories, years of them, but I keep pushing them away. The pain is too fresh, raw and aching. So instead of pressing, I reach a hand back over my shoulder and thread my fingers through his hair. It’s heated from the last of the sun, the strands silky against my skin.

  His hot breath sighs over my neck when he relaxes against me as I let my nails scratch over his scalp. He reminds me of a cat, pushing into my hand, silently asking for more. I turn slowly and look up as he raises his face from my neck. His lids drop as I scratch again lightly. I imagine he’d purr if he could.

  “I like that.” His voice is like dark honey, rich and sensual. It sends a shiver over my skin.

  I can imagine that voice whispering devious things in the night, things that I’m positive I’d beg him to do. For now, I’m content to rise up and kiss him softly before lowering back down. He watches me with his dark eyes, and for just a moment, I see some emotion flicker there. Not love or lust but something dark and ugly.

  My heart aches for him. It aches for all of my captains, but Lash, who I admit I first judged harshly, he is maybe the most broken. Stepping back, I let my hand slide down his arm and take his hand, pulling him toward the fire. He lets me, then sits and pulls me down. I settle on his lap, leaning my head against his shoulder.

  “Tell me about all of you when you were younger,” I ask him, and he tenses for a second before relaxing. “Not about the things that happened but about yourselves.”

  “We were wild. Hagen was quiet, always a watcher. Sometimes it kept him out of trouble. Fallon was a diplomat; he argued for us, took punishments for us. Cyder was unbreakable, untamable. Before I was taken, I lived on a farm. My family raised horses, caught wild ones to break and sell. Once there was a black one with a long, flowing mane that would not be broken. Cyder was like that colt, untrainable. Wilder’s family ran a bank of sorts; he learned his numbers from them. He was a tiny kid, skinny, but he could keep track of cargo like no one else the King had in his crews.” He stopped, a small smile on his face.

  “And you?” I prod gently.

  “I was…” He swallows hard. “I was soft. My mother and father had babied me, cherished me, but it left me unprepared for the ship. My mother had always said I was a beautiful boy as she brushed my hair. Our family kept our hair long; my father told me once it was tradition. But on the ship, there was no need for beautiful, long-haired boys.” His voice was filled with emotion by the time he finished. “I learned to dance, to entertain.” The last was a whisper that broke my heart.

  “I can imagine how cute you must have been.” The words feel inadequate for the pain I can feel rolling off him.

  A beautiful boy on a ship full of evil men. Unfortunately, I can imagine what his life must have been like.

  “Does the King allow women on his ships?” I ask quietly.

  He shifts me to his side, stands, and paces away. His back is to me, and his muscles strain and ripple against the smooth fabric of his shirt. His fists clench and unclench as I watch him, waiting for the answer I know is coming.

  I hate it when it does.

  “No.” He spins around, rage and shame stamped across his face.

  He strides away into the night. It has grown dark as we sat by the fire, and he is lost among the shadows in seconds. I want to go after him but I also know he wouldn’t welcome my attention right now. The horrors he must have faced, even with his brothers trying to protect him.

  I add wood to the fire, building up the flames while I wait for him. It burns until it’s low and still he hasn’t come back, so I add wood once again. Brushing off my hands, I walk across the small space between the fire and the shelter and lift a leaf-covered branch. Lowering myself, I settle on the makeshift bed, making sure to leave him room. The light from the fire makes shadows on the leaf wall, and I watch them dance until I start to drift.

  I wake as I feel him slide in beside me. He lays with his side at my back but doesn’t touch me. To turn or not, that is the question. It isn’t a question at all, really. I start to roll over before I even complete the thought. I curve into him, bringing my leg up over his thighs, and he sighs, shifting to pull me closer after maneuvering his arm under my shoulder.

  “I’m sorry,” I murmur against his chest.

  “No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have left you alone.” His breath whispers over my hair, and I can feel his lips touch it gently. “Sometimes, the memories are too close.”

  “I shouldn’t have pressed.” I turn my face up to look at his face and hate the haunted look I see there. He reminds me of a boy I once saw cowering behind his brute of a father. He had no bruises
but he was beaten, his spirit broken.

  “I don’t want you to know any of those things. I don’t want you to think less of me. To look at me differently.” He studies me. “I’m damaged goods, Reyna. Unworthy. Unclean. I don’t expect you to love me like you do the others.”

  “Your past won’t make me think less of you,” I promise.

  “It’s not the past. That’s the problem.” He looks away. “I’m still that boy, entertaining people. Only now I do it to get things for us. Information, goods, whatever is needed. I’m still just a whore.”

  I open my mouth but close it, for nothing I can think to say will be enough.

  “It’s okay, sweetheart.” He turns back, and I can see the glimmer of tears in his gorgeous dark eyes.

  I can see just the hint of golden flecks in them. I hadn’t noticed that before. I don’t give myself time to question my decision. Instead, I reach up and cup his cheek with my hand. I pause only a moment before I shift myself over on top of him, moving my body along his. He is frozen, watching me intently. I stop only when my lips are almost touching his. I give him the chance to stop me, but he just watches with a hint of hope in those chocolate eyes. His breath is locked in his lungs, and the intensity I see in his eyes makes mine catch.

  Moving that last minuscule distance, I touch my lips to his, gently at first, and then I apply more pressure. I feel the instant his resistance melts away and he kisses me back. It isn’t a deep, sensual kiss, instead it is heartbreakingly soft. It says more than any of his words, any of my other captains’ words. They want me. They desire me. Lash needs me.

  I’m supposed to save the world but right in this moment, I only want to save this man.

  I lie back, pulling him over me. Opening for him. He kisses me like he is drowning, and I let him. I let him remove my clothing and explore my body, asking nothing from him. He takes his time, kissing every inch of my skin. My nerve endings come alive as he moves to my breasts, lips and tongue laving the hardened flesh. He is gentle, so gentle it hurts.

  The forest is quiet around us, and the moss is soft beneath me. I listen to the sound of his kisses, of his sighs, and of his pleasure. He holds his weight off me, making sure I’m as comfortable as possible.

  On and on, he kisses, paying attention to the flatness of my stomach and then the dip at my belly button. Lower he goes, until I feel his breath on my core. He pauses looking up at me before finally leaning closer and flicking out his tongue. That first touch makes my muscles jump and my legs twitch. I ache to drag him closer, but this is about what he needs. I fight to stay still as he drinks his fill. My body grows hotter, wetter, and I can feel my release building until he moves back and rises up.

  I hate that I see hesitation on his face and reach up, pulling him over me, positioning him at my entrance. Beckoning him.

  He moves gently, slowly until I forget myself. My hips rotate, taking him deep, but still he just rocks slowly into my body. The feeling of it reminds me of the motion on the ships. Just a never-ending swaying into me, over my nerves, and I grow wetter.

  My body comes more alive, my desire to show him what love could look like tangling with his need to be loved. My hands run over his shoulder and sides, avoiding the scars, allowing him to avoid the memories. I touch him everywhere I can reach with my hands and my mouth until I raise my head and catch his lips. I kiss him softly, sweetly, as his brokenness tears my heart into pieces, and I hold tightly to him as he falls apart.

  Moving my lips to near his ear, I whisper, “Are you okay?”

  His movements never change, just a constant onslaught of my body and senses as he focuses on my face. There is something so profound in having his eyes locked on mine as he moves within me.

  “How do I explain?” He looks down our bodies and then back into my eyes. “When you touch me, it feels like the first time, like something brand new. Like I’m brand new.”

  I feel a smile curve my lips as I close the distance between our lips. This time when I kiss him, he kisses me back with a new hunger, and the slow gentle kiss picks up speed as I raise my hips to meet him.

  His movements and my emotions send me crashing over the edge, and I cry out, clinging to him. His hands cup my cheeks as he braces on his forearms, and he reaches his release staring into my eyes.

  I hold him tightly as we both try to understand what just happened. It was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever done with another person. I can feel my soul reaching for his. He is mine. Mine to love, mine to protect. No one will hurt him, ever again.

  “There will be no more dancing,” I murmur against his neck, and his arms tighten around me.

  “Only for you.” His voice is thick with emotion, and I can feel tears pricking at my eyes. “I will never be worthy of what you have given me.”

  “Shhh… I won’t hear anything like that,” I admonish gently while raising my head and looking at him intently. “Lash.” I force him to open his eyes and look at me. I see tears shining in his eyes, just like in my own. “You are worth so much more than what I can give you.”

  “No. You. This. It’s everything.” He traces over my cheek with a single finger, and the reverence in that touch is almost my undoing.

  I tilt my head, inviting a kiss, and he doesn’t let me down. It is gentle and filled with love and so much emotion that I can practically taste it.

  “We should get some rest,” he says as he breaks away, his lips still touching mine like he can’t stand the idea of not kissing me.

  “Is it far to wherever we are going?”

  “It is quite a distance, but honestly, I’m not sure how long it will take since I’ve never traveled by land. We will go north through the forest until we hit the coast and from there, we will follow it around.”

  I nod and then snuggle in closer, my body searching for more warmth. “I’m glad it’s summer and not winter.”

  “It will still be cold at night and along the water,” he warns, tightening his arms as he turns us and curves his body around me. “Don’t fall asleep before we get dressed.”

  “You’ll have to let me go.” I chuckle but hold on tight to him.

  His lips feather over my neck and I shiver. “Come on, my queen, let’s get you dressed and as warm as we can.” He pulls away, and for a moment, I feel the loss of him desperately, which makes me pause.

  He hands me my pants and shirt, not noticing. Pulling them on, I ponder the gut-wrenching ache.

  Something has shifted in me. I had not felt this with the others. I watch him as he dresses, hating the fabric for covering his golden skin. I wish I had more answers.

  “I’m going to add wood to the fire.” He stands, pulling up his pants as he does.

  I watch him walk away, the thoughts of how I’m changing deep down inside once again bothering me.

  “Are you watching? Do you know what’s happening to me? Can you give me answers? Can you help me? Help them?” I whisper to the night.

  No answers come from the darkness. I wasn’t really expecting them to. I don’t need confirmation. I can feel the changes happening.

  I’m changing. I’m becoming something...more.

  Chapter Eight

  LASH

  She looked at me with love, touched me with love.

  Adding more wood to the fire, I keep my back to her, not wanting her to see my face and the emotions I know are carved into it. I wish she hadn’t seen the scars, both outside and in. I know she could feel my shame. She still wanted me. I feel like my dirtiness contaminated her, but maybe instead, she helped clean some of it away. Maybe her touch healed some of the wounds.

  I swallow hard. Could her love wash it all away? Could I become new with her?

  I’m terrified to hope.

  A yip cuts through the air, and I throw some more wood on the fire, sending the flames high into the air.

  “Lash,” she calls, and I know I’ve put it off as long as I can.

  Joining her, I lay down and pull her near, putting my body between her
and any predators that might come close in the night.

  “They won’t come in unless they are starving,” she says calmly. “We always have coyotes around the village but only during the winter do they venture in.”

  Reyna sounds half asleep already as I pull the grasses and leaves around her.

  “I’ll keep you safe.” The words whisper over her hair.

  “Maybe I’ll keep you safe.” Her words are slightly slurred, and I feel her lips curve against my chest.

  ‘Maybe you already are.’ I don’t say the words out loud as I stare out into the night.

  Hours later and my eyes are growing heavy when I see the glowing gold and red of eyes just outside the light of fire. Not moving, I let my eyes roam over the area around us. Ten or more pairs are watching us, and I tense. Reyna sighs and turns in her sleep, and the eyes shift.

  They’re not coming closer but growing more interested as a growl sounds from above. I let my eyes roll up, trying to see through the roof she had created, and through a small gap, I can see it silhouetted against the moon. A large wolf sitting on the edge of the cliff, watching those that have surrounded us. It could easily jump down on us, just as the others could easily crash through the sides and drag us out to the pack.

  They don’t. No one moves except Reyna, who is restless in her sleep.

  She startles me when her hand shoots up, fingers outstretched, reaching. Unease skates over my skin as an animal howls then another yips. Wolves and coyotes encircle us.

  I’ve not spent much time on land since I was small but I do know two predators do not work together like this. I ease up, careful not to disturb her. I move to sit in the opening, blocking her from those watching eyes.

  “Has he sent you?” I whisper, looking up at what must be the alpha above us.

  The great black beast just blinks, its eyes not leaving the woman behind me. I only know he blinks because the gold disappears for a moment. The image of the whale plays through my head as I remember the sea teeming with creatures she called forth. I let my gaze drift around the clearing once again.