by Mia Marshall
The best parts were the arching skylights that opened to the world above and the enormous windows that provided a view of the ocean. Both had covers set to automatically close if outside sensors picked up any movement, but at that moment they were wide open, revealing a choppy sea and a sunny sky beginning to darken with an approaching storm.
I wasn’t surprised to find Mac here, far from the darkness and oppressive heat. He sat on a flat rock, staring out at the ocean. I joined him without speaking, kicking off my sandals and curling my legs underneath me. The sun had warmed the stone’s surface. Any other day, sitting there would make me drowsy.
I was wide awake.
“Is it really over?” he asked, looking at the sea.
“So I’m prepared, how many times are you going to ask that?”
“Only once.” He turned then, his eyes fixed on my face. He was making sure that, whatever I said, it was the entire truth.
“It’s really over.”
I wasn’t prepared for the way his shoulders hunched, causing his huge body to seem almost small, or the way he covered his face with his hands, scrubbing so hard I thought he’d remove the top layer of skin.
“Is that a problem?”
His voice was muffled. “Of course not. Just give me a minute.”
I waited, uncertain. “Wasn’t this what you wanted?”
Mac’s arm shot out and wrapped around my shoulder. He drew me to him and buried his face in my chest, rubbing his newly-shaved cheeks against skin the sundress failed to cover. I couldn’t tell if he was scenting or marking me. When his shoulders shook and my neck grew damp from his tears, I knew it was neither. He sought comfort.
“Hey,” I wrapped my arms around him. “I’m here. Look at me.”
He kept his head down. “You only got worse.”
I played with his hair, tugging on the thick strands.
“I kept trying to prepare myself. To lose you. All I could think about was how fast you were changing. How little time we had. I was never jealous of Luke, you know. Not like you thought I was. I knew you didn’t want him. It was that he kept taking you away from me. Stealing the last time we’d ever have together, and I hated him for that.”
By now, he wasn’t the only one crying. “I didn’t know.”
Mac shook his head, the movement digging his chin into my collarbone. “I couldn’t tell you. None of us could. We had to keep believing so you would do the same. But each time we knocked you out…” He fought to regain control of his voice. “And now you’re telling me it’s over, and I’m not going to lose you, and I don’t know how to let go of a fear that’s lived inside me for so long.”
I gripped his head with both hands and tilted it to face me, then knit my fingers into his hair so he couldn’t look away. “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.” I forced him to see the truth of my words, and when that wasn’t enough, I leaned down to capture his mouth. As our lips met, he straightened, growing taller until I had to tilt my head to reach him. I leaned into him. Mac was warm and solid, and he wasn’t going anywhere, either.
He drew back and rested his chin on top of my head. His arms remained locked around me. “What about the water magic I hold? Eila said she couldn’t complete the fusion without it.”
Tentatively, I brushed the unfinished end. It was still there, a tiny bit of unattached fire, but it had no water to explode against. The most twisted, most self-destructive part of me was fascinated. It tried to visit that loose thread the same way one would probe the gap left behind by a missing tooth.
That side was no longer in control. Maybe I would always have some darkness. Maybe a killer did live within me, but I had lots of reasons to keep that bitch at bay. She would never win again.
“It’s okay,” I said at last. “It really is. But you know, it’s probably safer to keep your magic close. Just in case.”
Mac pressed his lips to my forehead, my nose, my cheeks. “That,” he said, “will not be a problem.”
I grinned like an idiot.
“We should head inside.” He didn’t sound like he believed it. “There’s a lot to talk about. We aren’t in the clear yet.” He stood and held out his hand.
I ignored it. “I don’t think you heard what I said.”
His brow furrowed. “Which part?”
“The part where I’m okay.”
“Believe me, I heard that.”
“The part where I’m in control.”
“Yeah.” He drew out the word, still not understanding.
“The part where it’s safe to lose control,” I nudged.
Mac glowered at me. “What are you talking about? You just told me you’d never do that. Why would you choose to give up control?” He stopped, swallowing. “Oh.”
“Yes. Oh.”
He inhaled sharply. “Tonight?”
“Absolutely.”
His expression was somewhere between a smile and raw lust. “Then let’s get these discussions over with.”
I didn’t move. “I meant tonight in addition to other times.”
He froze. “Here? Now?”
“You have an objection?”
He didn’t move. I began to fear he had other plans.
“I thought you’d need to settle in a bit,” Mac said.
This wasn’t going the way I’d imagined it. “Do you want to wait?” A year or two passed while I waited on his answer.
He shook his head, and I exhaled.
“I don’t want to wait, either. I’ve already waited more than long enough. I’ve probably been waiting since I first met you, Connor MacMahon. Even when I was scared of you, or scared of myself, or maybe just scared of what we’d be together, I wanted you. I wanted you from the day I saw you throwing furniture into the trees. I’m done waiting.”
That was all he needed to hear. Mac grabbed my wrist and tugged, pulling me to standing. Though the touch was gentle, it was also irresistible. I fell against him, my chest meeting his.
Our first kiss was almost sweet, just the tips of our tongues meeting. He drew back, resting his forehead against mine. Already, his breath was coming fast.
Mac’s hands roamed down my back and over my hips and thighs. When he hit the hem of my dress he paused. His fingers toyed with the fabric, as if unsure what to do with it. Before I could make a suggestion, he released it. My protest cut off when he cupped my ass and lifted me until my feet dangled inches above the ground.
He plastered my body to his, and I squirmed in an attempt to get even closer. The muscles of his chest contracted beneath me as he adjusted his grip, now holding my ass with one hand. He wound the other through my hair, tilting my head to kiss me again. His tongue swept inside and I returned the stroke in kind. All I knew was his body, his lips and tongue. We were pure heat and desire, giving and taking with every touch until the barriers between us slid away.
When he put me down and stepped back, I protested.
Mac managed a shaky smile. “I’m trying to go slow here, Aidan. We shouldn’t rush our first time.” He took off his t-shirt and my temperature shot up several degrees. Instead of throwing it to the side, he lay it carefully across a soft patch of grass. “We shouldn’t get stains on your dress.”
I made sure he was watching, then I grabbed the dress and pulled it over my head. I wore nothing underneath.
Mac stared. When he at last managed to speak, his voice was ragged. “You had other plans?” he asked.
“You and I are going to have a lot of firsts, Mac. There will be the first time we wake together and you slide between my legs before either of us has spoken a word. There will be the first time you take me from behind, your hands gripped tight on my hips. There will be the first time it’s rough, and the first time it’s gentle, and all the times in between. But this is the first time you’ll ever be inside me, and it won’t be slow. We’ve had months of foreplay. I want you to fill me, and I want it now.”
Mac exhaled once, hard, then ripped the button from his jeans in his hurry to
undo them. The fabric slid over lean hips and that arrow of muscle pointing downward, then over muscled thighs and calves. I was only beginning to process the perfection of Mac with no clothes when he kicked them aside and strode to me.
He wrapped his arms around my waist and lifted me again. There was a lingering patch of sun, the one spot the clouds hadn’t yet claimed, and he carried me to it. I touched him wherever I could and ran my lips across his neck and shoulders. He tasted of salt and warmth, and I inhaled the scent that belonged to him alone.
Mac was gentle when he placed me on the ground, but there was nothing hesitant in his movements. He sat back on his heels and gazed at me. I was completely exposed, but I never felt vulnerable under his scrutiny. I felt adored.
I studied him in turn. His chest I knew well, though it affected me as much as it ever did. His bare thighs looked the way I imagined they would, though imagination was a poor substitute for reality. Knowing his legs would be muscled and tan wasn’t the same as tracing the line of his quadriceps with my eyes, or seeing the light dusting of dark hair that thinned as it approached the center of his body.
Mac ran his hands up both my legs from the ankles to the inner thighs. I groaned and undulated my hips, begging for more.
When his palms slid across my stomach to cup my breasts, I stopped him. I’d already told him what I needed, and this wasn’t it.
I urged his hand down, pressing his fingers to my center. He closed his eyes when he found me slick and ready, and the sound that emerged was as much animal as human.
Mac crawled up my body. The soft hair of his chest and thighs brushed against me, and my skin roared to life at the delicate touch.
He positioned himself between my legs, but still he held, unmoving. Mac demanded I meet his gaze, and I did the same to him. Everything we felt, everything we were, we laid bare to the other.
I slid my palms across Mac’s broad back, feeling each muscle flex beneath my palm. When I reached his buttocks, I gripped the tight flesh and pushed at the same moment I rose to meet him.
I gasped when my body accepted his for the first time, and he released a guttural groan as he seated himself fully inside me. He filled me, and I surrounded him, and when we moved, we did so together.
I wrapped my legs around his hips, pulling him closer, and he slid his right arm beneath me, lifting me to him. The other arm he braced on the ground for support, but I tugged him toward me. I welcomed his weight. I needed every inch of my body to know his touch.
Our skin grew slick with sweat, and we slid against each other until I could barely tell where I ended and he began, and still I tried to pull him nearer. I didn’t think he could ever be close enough. I moved my legs, winding them around his, and embraced him as tightly as I could. I felt nothing but his skin, hot and damp and wanting.
His hips picked up speed and I rose to meet every thrust, abandoning a little more control with each movement. His face was only inches from mine, and I felt his breath on my cheek as it grew faster and more ragged. Mine was the same, but through my gasps I spoke words both unplanned and true. I begged for release and prayed it would never end and told him that he belonged inside me. He growled agreement, his gaze hot and possessive.
We didn’t look away from each other, not until the very end when I threw back my head, crying out. He roared above me, the sound both primal and pure.
Afterwards, we lay together, our skin covered in sweat, and we said the same thing with our words that we’d said with our bodies, and we kept speaking with one voice and then the other for the rest of the afternoon.
CHAPTER 23
As much as I wished to lock our bedroom door and emerge a year or two later, there were several things we needed to take care of first.
We arranged transport for the camp residents. Tricia and Ani handled most of this. Ani had once been mistress of the compound, under another name and in another life, and she still knew her way around. Various boats sailed at regular intervals. There were never so many they would draw the attention of outsiders, but every few hours a former camp member was sent back to their old life—or given a chance to create a new one.
Some had people who missed them, who’d searched for them for years and had clung to hope when there was no reason for it. Others had lost all their loved ones during the centuries spent on the island. Some never had any family, which might explain why they found their way to Eila in the first place.
More than a few learned that those they left behind weren’t ready to forgive. Those elementals clung to each other, the only family they now had. Ani was in the final group, though she didn’t seek to bond with anyone.
Despite our talk, Sera was determined to ignore her mother for a while longer, and Ani gave no sign she planned to initiate that thorny conversation. But I caught Ani staring at Sera often, and while the woman’s expression was as hard as it had ever been, it also contained no small measure of determination.
Two stubborn fires, each ready to burst with unspoken words. I hoped the rest of us were outside the blast range when they finally collided.
Even those with forgiving families were in for a shock. I’d felt lost when I came out of hiding and discovered the internet had rewritten our world. Many of these people had never seen electricity. They wasted hours flicking light switches off and on. One spent all day in the kitchen, blending things. The existence of rock music, space shuttles, and birthday cake-flavored M&Ms was going to blow their minds.
Tricia took on the responsibility of helping them acclimate, though she was as lost as the others. She met with either Vivian or Simon in the mornings, learning everything she could. In the afternoons, she taught those who didn’t have a family to do it for them. The desert and her daughter attended those sessions, though they glared at Tricia the entire time.
It was the blind leading the blind, but Tricia didn’t hesitate to offer her help. She had a long path before her, and she would find her own way to travel it. Despite all she’d done, I hoped she’d make it.
“Make sure to show them Wikipedia,” I said. “It’s amazing.”
Tricia jotted that down.
We’d been at the compound a week, and by now most of the guests had been settled elsewhere. Only a few stragglers remained. Our new challenge was finding a place where they could remain together.
We sat in a large multipurpose room in the guest wing. It was furnished with comfortable reading chairs, tables of varying sizes, and a pool table no one was using. Floor-to-ceiling bookcases lined the walls. They were stuffed with paperbacks in every genre along with several board games, most of which had all their pieces.
My friends were gathered on the other side of the guest wing, where they debated the latest information and tried to devise a plan that didn’t involve remaining under the volcano for the next several decades. I should be part of that discussion, but instead I’d slipped away while mumbling flimsy excuses.
I couldn’t bear the thought of hopping back into constant fear and turmoil, not when I’d finally been given a moment of peace. The outside world would be there when I was ready to face it again. Until then, I was going to hang out with my Grams.
I snuggled deeper into my armchair and set aside the book I’d been reading. “Did you know the firsts existed?” I asked.
Grams drew a needle through her cross stitch project. “I had no idea. Perhaps we are too isolated up north.”
I took a sip of tea. I was glad to hear this wasn’t another secret they’d kept from me. My ignorance was shared, at least.
“What about the stories, the myths? It’s obvious they held more than a little truth. You told me the firsts who chose not to remain with humans vanished into the world and were never seen again. Same with the ones who chose not to stay with animals.” I made sure to add the second part. Elementals needed to stop forgetting these stories also featured shifters.
Another stitch, then she changed thread colors. “That’s what your great-grandma taught me, dear. I’ve had no re
ason to doubt it.”
“They did vanish.” Tricia looked surprised, as if she hadn’t quite expected to say that.
She sat at a square table with three of the remaining waters. They’d been working on a five thousand piece jigsaw puzzle of a sunset, but the other three stopped trying to solve it when Tricia spoke. She hadn’t talked about Eila since we arrived at the compound.
“How do you know?” I asked.
Her expression turned wry. “Three centuries with a creature who styles herself a god? You pick up a few things.”
Grams set down her cross stitch. It was an inspirational sampler that sought to inspire with foul language. “Tell us, dear.”
The former island residents watched Tricia nervously, unsure if this was wise. They’d been Eila’s pets for too long to lose their fear of her in a single week.
“Most of the first magics went one of three ways. They bonded with humanity and created elementals, or they embraced their wild side and sired shifters. Those that didn’t choose either path simply became one with the land again.”
“Like Eila,” I said.
Tricia was appalled. “Eila is nothing like them. She despised them, said they were weak. They weren’t weak. They just didn’t fight when it was their time to move on. Nothing is supposed to be eternal. Even the original magic is meant to fade. They once existed all across the planet. If they hadn’t died, we’d constantly meet them. Most understood that their magic came from the earth, and it would always belong to the earth. They returned willingly. You can sometimes find those spots, I think. More of the magical races live in those places, and even the humans carry a bit of their own magic. They’re the dreamers and artists.”
“The creators.” A wave of homesickness hit me. Some places in Tahoe were like that. I wondered how many firsts had blessed it with their power over the years.
“Exactly. Nothing really dies. It’s just reborn as something else.”
“Why didn’t Eila return to the land?” The island would have worked much better as an artist commune than as the elemental version of a cult.