by Aimee Moore
I rarely took the lead like this; he was so much better at it with his strength. But when I did, he let me take complete control and it was intoxicating. I straddled Dal and kissed him again. His breath was urgent, the hot heat of his firm length finding my slick opening with ease.
His hands held my hips and pushed me down onto him, a quick thrust that made me gasp with pleasure, heart turning over in my chest before galloping ahead into ecstasy. And then, issuing a soft moan between our lips, I took him, there on the ground. Dal’s grip tightened on my hips, but he did not press again, he let me set the pace and I set it deep and hard.
Dal’s hot hand met my nape, pulling me hard to his kiss, his other arm wrapping tight around my middle. His entire body was strung tight as I took him deep, his soft groans matching my own ragged breathing.
I knew him well enough now, I could tell that he was on the edge, as I was, trembling with urgency. I slowed, teasing us both, and Dal groaned.
“You are going to kill me,” he whispered in a harsh breath between us.
I gave a sultry laugh, continuing my teasing rhythm, biting at Dal’s neck. “But what a good way to die,” I whispered.
Dal’s groan was loud, his grip on my waist bruising, delicious. I teased us both as long as I could, taking him deep and rising again slowly, before Dal finally grabbed my hips and thrust up at me with a groan of release. I came undone, crying out as pleasure consumed me again, for the second time tonight. The inferno of my climax seemed to last an eternity; soft moans being pulled out of me as I rode wave after wave of bliss.
When the tremors had stopped, and I could finally control the whimpers coming out of me, I tried to catch my breath. Dal, breathing hard, rested his head against the rock, giving my body a quick squeeze.
“Only ever you, Sera,” he whispered, touching my face.
I gave my warrior a lingering kiss, then stood on shaking legs, retrieving my pants.
Dal made himself decent. “We cannot let our control lapse so easily in the future.”
I sighed. “Yes, I know. Poor Lianne. Are the Nialae completely gone?”
Dal gave a nod, standing. “For now.”
I stretched my palm to the charred sticks under our soup pot and they exploded into flame. Twisting my fingers, I concentrated on the flame, manipulating the manner in which it feasted so that it would never die. “Do you know how far she’s gone?”
Dal turned his attention in the direction Lianne had stomped off to, and then turned back to me. “Her scent and footsteps are not far.” Then he seated himself against a stump near the fire, raising an arm to me in invitation.
I smiled, then went to sit in the space between his legs. He gave a contented sigh, raising one knee next to me to rest his arm on.
“She is conflicted,” he said.
I leaned back against my warrior’s muscled bulk, sighing as warmth from him heated my back and the fire soaked into my front. “Why is that?” I asked, closing my eyes in comfort.
“She does not have an outlet, as we do, and she finds desire in our pleasures.”
“Well then we shall have to take more care around her,” I said.
“Care alone may not be enough.”
I made a small noise of assent in my throat. If only Karne would visit Lianne instead of me.
After a time, my thoughts drifted to Boris. “I wonder if Boris is the future of my world, Dal.”
“The damage is done. Even if the Nialae leave, their architecture will forever influence your people.”
“I find it hard to call them enemy when they bring such beauty. I know Tanebrael’s intent, and yet such splendor surrounded the smiling humans in Boris.”
“The hardest foe to face is the one we call friend,” Dal said. His chest vibrated with his deep voice.
I turned to glance up at him. “If all Kraw are as thoughtful as you then it’s a wonder that there is ever war at all.”
Dal cut me a smile that showed off large canines, pulling an errant curl of red away from my face. “Long ago my people attempted to save dying worlds through peaceful means. Often times it was lost through the people’s stubborn refusal to listen, while war raged on in my own world.”
“So they threw their war at the dying worlds instead,” I whispered, tracing my fingers over the tattoos on Dal’s arm.
“Much more success,” he murmured.
A rustle of bushes heralded the arrival of a scowling Lianne.
I straightened. “Lianne, I—”
She held up her hand. “Nope, save it. Look, I ain’t got the graces most women do and far’s I’m concerned I’ll probably die clutching a sword instead of a man. That’s the way of it. But you two, you have each other and that’s plainer than farmer’s shit in the dirt. You give me my space like you just did there, and I give you yours, and all our needs are met, got it?”
I opened my mouth to ask what in the seven hells Lianne meant, but then closed it with a snap as my face heated.
“That is fair,” Dal said.
With a firm nod, Lianne came and sat at the fire with us, the subject swept quite thoroughly under the rug. The desperate woman and her hunting party did not return. Thoughts of what became of her kept me up that night.
Chapter 12
Subjective
We traveled further north, donning the wool and furs we’d purchased in Boris as our breath began to frost before us. Two epiphanies marked our travel. The first was that my world, now a cold, crystalline wonder, was no longer my own.
The second epiphany was less wondrous, as Dal had decided avoiding children would be best in the face of the Nialae presence, and thus seemed to determine with his Kraw senses that I was untouchable at times. Since Dal’s logic was frustratingly infallible, I complied, but often plotted steamy little mutinies in my mind that did nothing to ease my needs.
When our party finally crossed the crumbled remains of the stone gate at the university courtyard, I was not prepared for what we found.
The university itself was a sprawling grey castle with seven turrets that peeked above the roof line at odd intervals. At roughly five flights high, the blackness of the windows lacking the typical glare of glass were like unseeing eyes on a corpse. Kalgar shied and tossed his black mane about as we entered, and Dal muttered “keep on” in Kraw, flicking the reins. I couldn’t break my gaze from those unseeing eyes in the massive structure, whispers of past lives clenching my chest with regret.
Nearing the castle, there was a point where we could go no further. And Kalgar wasn’t the only one reeling.
“King’s balls.” Lianne said as we disembarked our cart, weapons in hand.
All around us were the mostly skeletal remains of a great battle. It was hard to make sense of the carnage, as the wildlife had made the best of this tragic situation and eaten away most of the aftermath. All that remained was sunken leathery skin and scraggly hair on sun-bleached bones.
Kraw leathers on this one. University robes on that one. This one was face up, jaw askew, that one was face down, bones jumbled as if the body was tossed about carelessly. A weather-beaten book lay here. A staff there. Two swords being supported by the rib bones of that one there.
And it stank of ashes and death, despite the months that had elapsed since this attack. Anything that was wooden was reduced to charcoal now. Much of the stone had the brown streaks of dried blood strewn about it, or soot streaking upward where fire had once been.
“Let it not be said that Kraw are inefficient,” I whispered as we picked our way to the building. I wondered when the remains of Kraw battles would cease to daze me.
Dal crouched down and ran his hands through the dirt, raising some to his nose. Then dropping the dust, he looked up at the castle. “Patroma was here when this transpired.”
My heart turned over. Of course she would surface now, when she had been so blissfully absent in my travels of late.
Dal looked at me. “And Mindrik.”
And a second blow. “Patroma colle
cted him personally,” I whispered.
Dal gave a nod.
“Mindrik?” Lianne asked.
Dal cut me a regretful look before turning toward the large building.
I met Lianne’s gaze. “He was university raised, and he was captive with me and Dal,” I said, lightly stepping over a corpse to keep up. “Dal often called him ‘the whiney one,’ and he wasn’t terribly wrong. Mindrik’s dignity was the fragile egg that plagued our journey.”
“I’m beginning to think that you really didn’t tell our piss ant king the whole story,” Lianne said from behind me.
“Some pains are not to be shared,” Dal said.
“Oh piss on that. Maybe some shares are not to be pained, eh? Let it all out, like the aftermath of a big meal. Maybe the chicken was bad, but by the gods that spice bread made it all worth it.”
Something moved on the periphery of the grand courtyard and I turned quickly, loosing a ball of fire at it. My flame singed the bird’s tail feathers, and it squawked with indignity as it flew away.
“Bloody good try that was,” Lianne said.
I lowered my hands, feeling slightly foolish.
“Have care inside,” Dal said as we approached the towering front doors leaning on their hinges. Blows to the gold-framed doors had splintered the planks in half, the elaborate metalwork curling away from the soot and shards of wood.
I ran my hand down what remained of the once magnificent entryway. “What in the seven hells caused this?” I asked.
Dal gave it a quick glance, then continued forward. “Kraw battle lords. What they lack in intelligence they make up for in size and strength.”
“I never saw one when we raided Elanthia,” I said.
“Saw more than me, you did,” Lianne muttered. “I got stuck herding screaming women and children away. Bloody insulting.”
I turned my attention from the mangled doors. “What they lack in intelligence they make up for in size? How big are they, Dal?”
Dal raised his hand as high as it would go and kept walking through the crumbling remains of the elaborate entryway.
“Bloody stupid they were, then,” Lianne said, skirting a fallen column of stone.
Dal’s quiet laugh rumbled through the broken halls as we entered. “I once saw one drown in soup.”
I tried not to laugh. “That’s awful.”
“Clans who take in battle lords know that the prize is short-lived.” Dal stopped then, tilting his head back and looking up at the massive, circular window in the ceiling. Part of the stained glass was broken, jagged pieces glinting in the sunlight that filtered through. “Humans. Their structures make little sense.”
“Welcome to Ambior, the foremost university for Gifted.”
I jumped, giving my wrist a twirl to summon my flame as I faced the intruder. Lianne and Dal whirled as well, weapons at the ready. A pale woman wearing elegant purple robes and a stern up-do stood among the ruin of the entryway, hands clasped before her. The serene smile never left her face as she stared forward.
“Who are you?” I demanded.
“It’s a gods damned ghost,” Lianne said.
The woman’s expression didn’t change. “Welcome to Ambior, the foremost university for the Gifted.”
I lowered my hands, glancing at Dal. He frowned and stepped toward the woman who paid him no notice, poking his sword into her middle. Her gaze remained forward, smile unchanged as his sword tip glided through her middle like air. I saw then that she was somewhat transparent, as if fading from this life.
Dal stepped back with a frown. “Hm. Human gifts are strange.”
“She’s… an illusion,” I said.
“Thought you Gifted took your spells with you when you died,” Lianne said.
“I really don’t know,” I said, watching the woman’s robes shift around her feet as she stood. “I’ve never been to a university before, there’s more that I don’t know than I do.”
“Come. Let us see what we can find of this Helegnaur,” Dal said.
“Yes, of course,” I said, tearing my gaze away from the illusion. The woman could have been someone I knew in another life. Had my parents known I was Gifted; had I been sent here where my flame belonged.
I would have died with the rest.
“Split up, yeah? We’ll find the library faster,” Lianne said, glancing down more hallways that tunneled under the stairs.
“I do not sense danger,” Dal said. “But be wary of structural failure.”
Lianne gave a nod, thrusting her pelvis out as she hiked her armor up. “Oh aye, I’m a picture of grace, I am. See you soon.” And then she was off.
I looked at Dal. “You wish to venture alone,” he said.
I opened my mouth to protest, but then snapped it shut. I wanted to know what Gifted did with their days here. What they ate and how they slept and whether the mattresses were really stuffed with horseshoes, as Mindrik had said.
“I aim to linger in my search,” I said with a note of guilt.
Dal smiled at me. “Take all the time you need, Sera. I will find you.”
I gave a nod. “Thank you,” I whispered.
And then I turned to ascend the sweeping marble staircase. There were few corpses here, the majority seeming to be outside. My imagination did its best to piece this world back together, replacing splinters of wood with gleaming furniture and blood-stained heaps of fabric with plush rugs. If I let myself become lost in the vision, I could even see robed students walking down the stairs, talking at length of things that I would never understand.
I eventually found myself staring into living quarters. A long row of a room ending in a large window, smashed beds laying in splinters with mattress stuffing strewn about the lengthy space. No horseshoes.
I wandered among the ruin, stopping at a tipped trunk and crouching to right it. The lid creaked open and the smell of someone else’s life wafted up at me.
Dresses, a silver mirror, robes of yellow, and folded lengths of parchment. I fingered the soft robes, remembering how Mindrik was dressed in the very same, only in blue. Did he wander these halls? Large nose and weak chin held high, strutting his frail frame down the elaborate carpet? Did Mindrik sleep in this room? How cruel was fate to send me, his killer, here to wonder such things?
I blinked away the ghosts of my imagination, delving into the bits of parchment.
Love letters. Explicitly detailed correspondence that made me blush. Apparently, a man named Aldron enjoyed servicing two women at once, and this Elyse was rather taken with his efforts.
“Goodness,” I whispered, reading the details of their exploits. I’d never heard of such things before, but curiosity kept me glued to the page.
“I could show you what that’s like,” a male voice curled into my ear.
No. No no no. Lust slammed into me as I whirled to see Karne watching me with those honey-yellow eyes.
“Turn it off,” I growled.
Karne laughed, displaying beautiful teeth. Teeth that could rake over my skin and draw me to climax. There, on the floor, my legs began to spread on their own, my breasts heavy and aching.
“My dear Seraphine, I haven’t the slightest idea what you mean.”
“Why have you come to bother me?” I said in a petulant tone.
“Bother? Goodness no. This,” he gestured toward the room with one hand, “is not a bother.”
And then in a haze, the room was right. The beds were made in their silken finest, the trunks were set neatly next to them, the sun streamed through the massive window, and the carpet was whole.
So many beds. I trembled.
“Your allure. Turn it off,” I said in a harsh voice.
Karne stalked closer to me, kneeling with a speculative look. I leaned back on my hands, trying to distance myself from Karne. But my back arched, my breasts thrust out, and I had only succeeded in looking as if I were offering myself to him.
“You’ve been busy,” he whispered in a low timbre.
I
tried to let off an irritated sound in my throat, but a soft whimper came out instead.
“It would seem that you’re on a bit of a quest, Seraphine. Would you like to tell me about it?”
“Absolutely not,” I hissed.
Karne laughed. “Surely you know what it is you’ll find in this depressing tomb?” Karne asked in a soft voice.
I didn’t speak, afraid of how my voice would quiver to spite my anger.
“No? Pity, this crypt houses some stunning artifacts.”
I glanced down to the letter on the floor, wondering if clues to these artifacts were in front of me.
“Do you want me to show you what they did in that letter?” Karne asked.
I glared, shaking my head.
“Will you not speak?” He asked with a grin.
I tried to put the full force of my hatred in my eyes, but it was difficult over a hot face and swollen lips.
“Then you cannot protest if I simply don’t look at you,” Karne said. “A tragedy, to be sure, because looking upon you like this would drive any Nialae to lust.”
He gestured with one hand then, and the room became alive with the past. The motes of dust danced in the sunlight shafting through the windows, the dull roar of voices could be heard somewhere far off, and a whirring metal contraption clicked a gentle rhythm on a trunk a few beds down.
A young man walked in wearing robes of grey. He was strong, tall, and beautiful, his sandy hair tossed carelessly about his head. Two young women followed him.
“Aldron, we can’t carry on like this, you know it’s forbidden,” one of them hissed. The blond one.
Aldron gave a winning smile. “Forbidden is subjective.”
The brunette gazed at the opening to the hallway with unease. “Look, we don’t have much time, breakfast is nearly over.” She met Aldron’s gaze. “We have to stop this, Aldron. One of us will be expelled, or worse, with child. Please just say that you understand so we can get on with life.”
Aldron laughed. “Elyse, you know I wouldn’t let that happen to any of you.”