by Gwen Knight
“Well, then,” he teased. “Let’s see if we can do that again.”
He unleashed the full talent of his mouth on me, easily finding that magic spot. Heat bloomed in my stomach—a sensation I’d never felt before. I sucked in a deep breath, and my eyes squeezed shut as it grew to the point where I felt I might explode. One final stroke was all it took, and I tumbled over the edge, my whole world igniting with fire.
Slowly, the flames dimmed to embers, and I found myself still lying on the bed, panting for air. Oren moved upward, his body so close to mine. It wasn’t until I glanced down that I realized he’d kicked off his own pants. My eyes widened at the sight of him.
I wanted to take him into my mouth the way he’d done for me, but instead, he settled between my legs, his hands smoothing up my waist.
“Are you sure about this?” he asked in a breathy voice.
I nodded. Right now, I just wanted him to make me feel that explosion of heat again. I didn’t care how.
“It might hurt a little,” he warned me.
Nothing could hurt enough to make me stop.
“Oren. Shut up,” I rasped.
He grinned at me, then after a slight maneuver, slid into me.
I gasped, my eyes widening. He was right. It had hurt a little. But after the minor discomfort, it turned into nothing but pleasure. Content with my reaction, Oren quickened his pace, his face buried in my neck, and his teeth grazing my skin.
My body shuddered as he moved within me, his smooth rhythm eliciting another wave of warmth in the pit of my stomach. I clung to him as he moved, lifting my hips and matching his pace. I wanted more, faster, anything to duplicate the results from before.
Sensing my impatience, Oren gave me what I wanted. He thrust deep within me, his face contorted with concentration as he moved. I swung my legs around his hips as he’d done before, then gasped when I felt him slide deeper. I reached above me, my hands braced against the walls and held on as the next climax built within me.
I felt myself tightening around him, responding to his body, and from the sounds of it, he could feel it too. He cupped one of my breasts then, his thumb brushing over my nipple as he moved within me.
The heat grew to the point where I panted for breath and begged my body to relent. When my second orgasm rolled through me, I cried out as my back arched off the bed. Distantly, I caught the sound of Oren’s own climax, his movements slowing as we both came down from the high.
Out of breath, and completely content, I collapsed onto the bed with a blissful sigh. Oren followed, resting his head on my chest. Without thought, I wound my arms around him and ran my hands down his back, listening as our heartbeats slowed together.
After a few moments of silence, he looked up at me with an unsure smile. “Do you regret this yet?”
Chuckling, I slapped at his shoulder. “I’ll let you know when I can feel my legs again.”
Oren laughed, then rolled onto his side and drew me against his chest. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“You do that.”
The light tap of knuckles against my door roused me from my light sleep. I blinked open my eyes and glanced out the window, noting it was now dark. An entire day, maybe longer, had passed since Oren and I had locked ourselves up here.
Speaking of which…
My head rolled across the pillow to find his face buried in the pillows, a little drool collecting at the corner of his mouth. Chuckling, I shook my head and climbed out of bed. Another knock, a little more insistent this time.
“I’m coming,” I murmured as I pulled on the robe I’d left draped across the chair.
Once clothed, I stumbled toward the door and opened it a crack.
Logan’s face greeted me, his mouth grim and eyes tight with worry. “There you are.”
I nodded and yawned, covering my mouth with the back of my hand. My legs still weren’t working quite right—and the reason brought a slight grin to my face.
Logan frowned and leaned a bit to the side as though to peek into my room.
“Did you need something?” I asked softly.
“I just wanted to check on you. Make sure you were all right. Markos has been looking for Oren all day. No one seems to know where he is. You haven’t seen him, have you?”
A lump wedged in my throat, and my stomach drew tight with nerves. I had two options here. Lie to Logan and tell him I hadn’t seen him, then wake Oren and send him to Markos, or tell Logan the truth. But I knew how much the truth would hurt him. Maybe I was willing to look past the fae and human thing, but Logan wouldn’t. And he already thought a little less of me after reaping the Foundry.
I didn’t get a chance to answer.
“Keira?” Oren called out from the bed. “Who is it?”
My heart gave a dull thump, and I watched as the color drained from Logan’s face. His slitted gaze took in my mussed hair and skewed robe. He placed a firm hand on the door and shoved it open. I didn’t need to turn around to know what Logan saw. And I could tell from the absolute look of horror on his face that he didn’t approve.
“I see,” he commented, his tone cold. “I’ll tell Markos that Oren will be down shortly.”
“Logan—”
But he’d already stormed off.
The sound of footsteps down the hall caught my attention only to find Taly standing in front of her own bedroom with wide eyes. It wasn’t hard to put two and two together. But after a moment’s hesitation, a comforting smile crossed her face. Astounded, I held her gaze, unsure how to respond. I knew they approved of human rights and wanted to fight for our freedom, but I’d never expected her to approve of Oren and me.
“Markos doesn’t need Oren for anything specific,” she told me. “He just wanted to know where he was. We hadn’t seen him since last night. I’ll let him know that he’s fine. There’s no need to come downstairs until the morning. Unless…you’re hungry?”
My stomach seized upon those words, the growl almost deafening to my ears. Last night the mention of food had made me sick. All I’d wanted was to cry.
“I can bring you two something up, if you’d rather just be alone right now?”
“Oh, uh, we can get our own food, you don’t have to—”
She waved a hand. “It’s fine. I’ll bring up some of the leftovers.”
“Thank you,” I whispered before shutting the door.
“I take it Logan isn’t happy?” Oren commented.
I turned to find him dressed and standing next to the bed with a strange look on his face.
“Not at all.”
“I heard Taly,” he commented, his gaze finally meeting mine. “But I can leave if you’d like. We don’t need to eat together.”
Ah. Now I understood.
I crossed the room in three strides, stretched up onto my tiptoes, and claimed his mouth in a searing kiss. The tension melted away from his shoulders, and his arms encircled my waist, crushing me against his chest.
After a languorous swipe of my tongue, I stepped back and smiled up at him. “Better?”
“You don’t regret our night together?”
“Hmm, for someone so popular with the ladies, you sure seem a little insecure about yourself right now.”
He threw me a dashing smile. “Because usually at this point, we’re wishing each other well and go our separate ways.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Surely you’ve had a longer relationship with at least a couple of them?”
“Not really. They know what I’m looking for up front. I tell them.”
I blinked, surprised by that response. “But you’re looking for more with me?”
This time, he was the one to kiss me, his fingers diving beneath the soft robe to brush against the swell of my breasts. “What do you think?”
“We have a little time before Taly brings us dinner.”
“Mmm, dinner in bed. I can think of less pleasant ways to spend the evening.” He waggled his brows. “Maybe I should add you to the menu.”<
br />
He swept my legs out from beneath me and tossed me onto the bed. I was laughing when Taly knocked on the door with our dinner.
15
We must not live under the assumption that magic is this all-powerful force. It is limited to the skill of the witch, from the most talented who can conjure light and darkness, to the least who can do little more than convince a flower to bloom. The Reaper has an untold power of which we’ve never been allowed to study. Lord Arik is adamant she remain ignorant of her skills—for our protection and hers. Still, some remain curious. Perhaps one day, our questions will be answered.
— From the journal of Erez Ardal, Researcher
My body shook with laughter as I stared at the burnt mark scorched into the grass. “This is never going to work.”
“Sure it will,” Oren assured me. “You just need to focus. I said I would teach you some spells before we headed for the estate, and we’ll get you there. You need to concentrate more.”
A scowl darkened my face. “If I concentrated any harder, we’ll burn right through the earth.”
Oren paused and considered the target, which had started the day as a pile of rubbish gathered in a single spot for me to aim my magic at. He’d wanted to try something simple, such as lobbing a fireball at it. Simple. There was nothing simple about conjuring fire. He seemed to be of a different opinion, though. I’d burned through an entire foot of snow, down to the yellowed grass. The spot was nothing more than a searched patch of darkened earth.
But at least I was warm, for the first time all day.
I’d never felt such a heat before. As though my blood was insulated from within, shielded from the mind-numbing cold and blistering winds. A side effect of conjuring fire, he’d assured me. The power came from my magic, and magic was a life source. I’m sure it made sense in his head, but to me, his explanation was nothing more than strange ramblings.
I’d never been taught anything to do with magic before. I’d been thirteen when I’d learned I could reap. I couldn’t remember the details specifically—it was a memory I didn’t want to remember. But I could recall playing with some of the other kids, chasing them around the Foundry when I’d touched one. He hadn’t died, but he’d come close. Logan had separated us before the worst happened.
I did, however, remember the look on my father’s face. He’d been so proud. A channeler, someone who could share magic—a marvellous gift.
Until Arik came calling.
After that, it hadn’t seemed so wonderful. But the skill was innate to me. Much like breathing. It was the other magic I had trouble managing. Mostly from lack of study. I wasn’t the only one. No humans were permitted to practice magic in the Foundry—nor did they want to. It was an expenditure they couldn’t afford. Instead, they’d learned to live their lives without it, bartering for life’s necessities. The bracelets had always confined our powers, but now that we were free, it was an entirely different situation. Every time I expelled a bit of atern, I felt my body replenishing itself. We were batteries of a sort—a never-ending source of power. It was no wonder the fae had invited us into their realm when our world had ended. They’d seen us as their salvation. If only they’d seen the future. If only they’d known beforehand that they would no longer be able to take our magic from us. The ironies of the world.
“Try again,” Oren urged me, nudging me in the shoulder.
I blinked clear my thoughts and returned to the task at hand. We’d been at this since this morning, after yet another sleepless albeit fun night. We’d woken this morning to Markos knocking on the door and demanding that we get our asses down the stairs. Enough was enough, he’d proclaimed. We had work to do. Now apparently wasn’t the time for mourning, no matter how we chose to spend that time.
Markos was right. My father wouldn’t have wanted me to sit around sobbing over him. He’d lived to see his freedom. I had to believe that was enough. And now, we would take back Osvea and hopefully work together to free the rest of the witches within Faction Fourteen. Though I wasn’t sure how, Oren assured me we’d figure it out.
“Keira?” he murmured.
“Right. Focus.”
This wasn’t the time for errant thoughts. Tomorrow was the big day, or so Markos assured us. We would infiltrate the Brooke estate and take back the throne. Which meant, I needed to learn a few new skills.
I wasn’t the only human present. Though I’d yet to see or speak with Logan since last night, the others had shown up for Oren’s lessons. Gavin was making wonderful progress. His fireballs were well constructed and perfectly aimed. Some people had a natural talent.
Nodding, I drew myself straight and stretched out my neck. Now or never. All Oren wanted to see was one perfectly formed ball of fire striking the target he’d laid out. So far, mine came out more as a steady stream of flame and silver wisps dancing from my fingers.
I’d never noticed before, but it seemed each of our magic presented itself with a specific color. I hadn’t a clue what that meant, but Oren didn’t seem surprised. Logan’s had always been green, and every time I’d reaped, the tendrils that had pierced my chest had always been silver. Gavin’s was a bright orange. I wondered if it had anything to do with our natural talents. Gavin seemed very much in control of these flames, and I knew Logan had an affinity with the earth. Perhaps that was the logic behind it all.
But what did silver mean?
Wriggling my fingers, I conjured the fire and released it, appeased when it took the shape of an elongated cylinder as opposed to the full stream I’d already grown used to.
“Good!” Oren cheered, turning to eye the others.
A few struggled with conjuring in general. Rather than a full flame, tiny embers sparked from their fingers.
“Another important defensive spell is a shield,” Oren coached. “It allows you to reflect other magical spells, reflect them off your own aura of sorts, and sometimes reverse it back onto the original caster. It’s a rather difficult spell that takes time to perfect. But if you can manage it in the slightest bit, it’ll be hard for Dask to get his hands on you.”
He walked a circle around the five of us with his hands settled on his hips. “You need to picture a massive barrier in front of you. It can be made of whatever you desire. Brick, cement, whatever you feel is strong enough to block any incoming magic. Once you’ve done that, will your magic into the image and bring it to life. You won’t be able to see it, but you’ll feel it. Like steel surrounding your body. Give it a try.”
My gaze drifted toward the others, and I watched as they all closed their eyes and gathered their wits. Gavin screwed his eyes closed and pursed his mouth, a telltale sign of concentration. He seemed to be struggling with this one. Sweat beaded on his furrowed brow, and his jaw tightened as he fought to cast the spell.
“Keira?” Oren murmured.
I caught his eye, then nodded. My turn. I rolled out my shoulders and followed the others. I centered myself. Focused on picturing the wall. Brick by brick, it built itself up in my mind’s eye, rising until I stood behind an everlasting tower.
Then, as Oren suggested, I called on my magic. Much like with reaping, I felt my entire being respond to the call. My magic awoke within me, stretching out through my limbs, then easing into the wall. I couldn’t physically see the wall, but I imagined it in my head, and that was all it took. I suddenly felt more powerful than ever before. Like nothing could touch me.
“You want me to test it?” he asked, standing a few feet back.
I nodded, a slow grin crossing my face. Confidence gave birth to excitement, and I felt my cheeks warm in anticipation.
“You sure?” he pushed.
“Oh yeah.”
The others had paused and turned toward us, their gazes eager as they took in the developing scene.
“I’ll go gentle.”
I shook my head. “Fire.”
“What? Keira, no.”
I nodded, my grin widening. “Throw some fire my way.”
&nb
sp; Oren shook his head. “I could hurt you.”
Nothing could hurt me. This wall was impenetrable. I felt it in my bones. Nothing would get past it. For the first time in my life, I felt absolutely invincible.
“Do it,” Markos’ voice rose behind us. It was the second time I’d seen him today. He had this habit of randomly disappearing now and then. “We need to test her limitations. If she thinks she can handle a little fire, go for it. We can teach her how to heal if need be afterward.”
Disapproval crossed Oren’s face as he stared down his uncle. “This isn’t the time to push her limits. We need her at full strength tomorrow.”
Silence descended over the yard. Markos didn’t repeat his earlier statement. After a moment’s pause, Oren shook his head and turned back toward me.
“It’s all right,” I told him. “You won’t hurt me.”
Jaw tight, he lifted a hand and summoned a fireball. The image he struck was perfect. I’d never seen such a perfectly constructed spell before. The flame flickered at the top, the bottom half flawlessly rounded to fit in his palm without grazing skin.
I’d always known the fae were well taught, but seeing it in person was a tad intimidating. Markos was right. We had to know how far I could go. If Dask was anywhere near as skilled as his little brother, we all needed to be at our best.
“Release it,” Markos ordered.
Oren bristled at the sharp command, but after a long breath, he tossed the ball my way.
As I’d expected, it struck my wall and simmered into nothing. A fit of embers drifted to the ground and landed in the snow near my feet.
Oren blinked wide eyes at me, a pleased grin cracking through his frown.
“Again,” Markos commanded, his voice closer this time. “But harder.”
I glanced back to find him striding toward us.
“Uncle…”
“We need to know her limits,” he repeated.
Mollified, Oren summoned another fireball, larger than the last. I felt the heat, and my skin crackled under the warmth.