33.

  Ash

  The little house near the Temple still looked the same as we left it, weathered but sturdy. It crouched beneath the same leaning trees, the broken lock still a quiet testament to my less-than-graceful lockpicking months ago. Time lived differently here – slower, heavier – as if the place had been holding its breath since we left.

  I shifted Faelwen carefully from my arms to open the door, then ushered her inside first. Stepping over the threshold felt like stepping back into an old memory.

  The single room was untouched since the winter we abandoned it: one narrow bed, a small crooked table, and that armchair with its mountain of mismatched pillows, all sagging with age. The fireplace long since gone cold. Only a thin dusting of ash remained, grey as forgotten hopes.

  The scent of damp wood, and slow-growing mold wrapped around us like an unwelcome embrace.

  Faelwen drifted toward the fireplace, arms curled around herself, shivering.

  “It’s freezing… let me get a fire going. Do we have blankets?”

  I leaned against the wall, watching her graciously move across the room to gather dried logs. She closed her eyes, voice sinking into a soft, familiar whisper of magic. Sending a tingling sensation down my spine. Sparks leapt from her fingertips, tiny fireflies dancing, and the wood surrendered to flame. First slow, but then it devoured the wood hungrily. It reminded me of the flame pits in the Underworld that were used as torturing method for unruly souls.

  “No clean blankets unless you want the molded ones,” I said, blinking away the memory. She shot me a crunched nose, and I couldn’t help the laugh that escaped. A familiar warmth settling in my heart.

  “I’ll take that as a no.”

  She lowered herself onto the floor, settling as close to the newborn fire as she could, wrapping her arms tighter around her body.

  “I feel like we should be doing something,” she murmured into the flickering light.

  “I can think of a thing or two,” I said with a grin as I lowered myself beside her. She nudged me with her shoulder, breath warm and light.

  “I meant something about the war.”

  “I know.” I slipped an arm around her and pulled her into my side. The scent of rain-soaked forest clung to her and I took a deep breath, a grounding warmth spreading through my core, relaxing my shoulders.

  “There’s nothing to do until the magi reach us. Waiting is all we have.”

  “I hate waiting,” she whispered, teeth catching her lower lip. I cupped her chin, freeing her lip with the pad of my thumb.

  “You’ll bruise it, darling.” My voice creating goosebumps on her skin.

  “You do that all the time when you kiss me,” she said, eyes sparkling despite the cold.

  “Hmm,” I breathed against her cheek. “But I do it lovingly.”

  A soft laugh slipped from her, and I drew her closer. My hand traced lazy circles over her thigh, drifting upward, feeling her breath catch as she leaned into me. Her fingers skimmed my lower back, her head finding its place on my shoulder.

  “I’ve felt a little off the last few days,” she said, sliding her icy hand beneath my shirt. A shiver rippled through me. Always with the cold fingers and feet.

  “Maybe I’m getting sick. Winter’s catching up,” she continued.

  “Could be,” I said, brushing my knuckles against her chilled cheek, her nose cold enough to sting. “Honestly I’m surprised we haven’t gotten sick sooner. We didn’t exactly travel like sane people.”

  She giggled, soft and fleeting.

  “We’ve been lucky.”

  “You’re not pregnant are you?” A sudden thought raised in my head. The smile on her face faded a little.

  “I don’t think so,” she answered, her voice tinged with sadness.

  “Come here. Let me warm you up, darling.”

  A gentle tug at her waist brought her in front of me. Her hips settled over mine, and my body reacted before thought could catch up. Instinctive, electric, drawn to her as if she were the fire itself and I were a foolish moth revering her light and warmth.

  My hands began their slow path over her body, trying to distract her from her thoughts about pregnancies.

  I traced the length of her legs, the soft curves of her arms, up to the graceful slope of her neck. She melted back into me, every breath loosening her body a little more as I massaged the base of her skull and the delicate hinge of her jaw. She let her head hang back and sighed.

  “That’s nice,” she murmured, voice thick with warmth.

  I hummed in answer, heat blooming low in my abdomen, rising to my cheeks. She looked like something divine in that firelit room. Undone, trusting, given entirely to my hands, my needs.

  I leaned forward, my breath skimming her throat, and her arms wrapped around me. Her inhale hitched; her fingers threaded into my hair and tugged, just enough to send a burst of butterflies through my stomach. When she pulled again, urging my face toward hers, I let myself be guided.

  Her lips brushed mine, explorative at first. Then deeper. Her teeth grazed my lower lip and a helpless sigh left me. She explored me with a quiet hunger that stirred my own, her mouth mapping my lips, my cheeks, drifting lower until she reached my neck. I gripped her hips, tilting them just slightly so her centre pressed against my need. The pressure that followed sent heat flooding downward, and a low moan escaped us both.

  Piece by piece, we undressed each other. Tenderly and lovingly as though our hands were learning each other’s stories all over again.

  Her fingers traced the familiar markings on my skin; mine traced the constellations of hers. The air between us warmed, thickened.

  When she guided me down onto my back and settled over me, firelight spilled over her in waves of gold. Her hair framed her face like a dark halo.

  My hands trembled as they rose to her chest, outlining the soft curves of her breasts. Where they fuller than before? Or was it just the way she made me feel? Overwhelmed and undone.

  Her nipples hardened beneath my touch; her head fell back, lips parted on a breathless sound.

  I felt myself pulse with the urge to enter her, but I held back. Wanting this moment to last a little while longer. Wanting to drown in the sight of her, the feel of her, the smell of her.

  My fingers slid down, circling the warm rise of her stomach, then lower still. With a fluid motion she gathered her hair into a loose ponytail atop her head. The small gesture sending waves of pleasure down to my stomach. Then she leaned forward, her lips finding mine again.

  My hand was caught between our bodies, but I used my other to cradle the back of her neck, deepening the kiss, drawing a soft moan from her.

  It sent a shiver through me. Heat coiled tight in my core and my hips lifted instinctively. She let out a laughing breath against my mouth, rolling her hips downward to meet mine, creating a shared pulse of pressure that stole both our air.

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  Her breath stuttered. I must have hit a sensitive place and I grinned. She trailed her lips down my throat, down my chest and lower still. I freed my hand to touch her, but she was already sliding out of reach. Her warmth being replaced by the most exquisite feeling she had once given me before. Her mouth wrapped around me.

  A sharp gasp tore from my throat. She moved slowly at first, warm and careful, drawing in the taste of my precum. Her hands traced lazy circles along my lower abdomen, grounding me even as my hips bucked, seeking more friction.

  The pressure built, and every thought dissolved into the sensation of her lips, her tongue, the gently rhythm she set. The room filled with our breaths. Soft gasps and quiet moans, the surrender of two bodies alone in the world.

  Heat surged in me, my hips moving faster, but I didn’t want the moment to end. I needed to feel her. Needed the closeness, the love threaded into every breath. Somehow I managed to call to her.

  “Wen…”

  She released me and kissed the top of my shaft before moving her way up my body, slow and lingering until her lips hovered over mine.

  “Hmm?” she hummed against my lips.

  I didn’t answer. But with a sudden movement I rolled her onto her back and braced myself above her. She let out a surprised little squeal, wrapping her legs and arms around me. I laughed, before claiming her mouth again.

  My hands cupped her breasts, teasing her nipples until she moaned, a sound that rippled through me like lightning.

  Then I kissed my way down her body like she’d done to me. Her fingers tangled in my hair, trying to pull me closer, desperate in the same way I had been.

  When I reached her centre, she parted for me without hesitation, hips lifting in invitation. I didn’t think. I simply followed instinct and desire, letting my tongue explore the soft, aching heat of her. Her taste filled my mouth. Her moans urged me on as I grew braver with every sound she made. Sucking, teasing, testing what made her breath catch, what made her thighs tremble. When I slid my fingers inside her and curled them in a “come hither” motion, her entire body tightened.

  She was close. So close. I sealed my mouth over her again, sucking deeply, stroking her with my tongue and my fingers in perfect rhythm. Her hips buckled, her moans rising higher and sharper.

  I didn’t stop, not until her voice broke on a desperate plea for me to.

  But I wasn’t finished with her.

  Before her breath had fully steadied, I flipped her onto her belly. She yielded to me without question, without fear. Only trust, only that soft sound she made when she knew exactly what I meant to give her.

  The moment I slid inside of her, heat surged through me so sharply I almost lost myself right there. She was warm, welcoming, trembling in the sweetest way.

  I braced over her, careful not to crush her small frame, my breath catching as I felt her move with me. Slow at first again, then seeking more.

  Her hands clenched on our clothes draped on the floor, her body arching to meet mine, her breath breaking into quiet, helpless sounds that undid me. I pressed my lips to the place where her shoulder met her neck, tasting her salty skin and leaving soft bite marks in my wake.

  Sweat gathered between us as the rhythm deepened, the air thick with our shared heat, our shared hunger for each other.

  Normally, I spoke to her through moments like this. Guiding, grounding, teasing her until she laughed or gasped or pushed at my chest. But not now. Now there were no words left in me. Only love. Only the raw, unfiltered gravity that pulled us together again and again.

  Her body tightened beneath mine at the same moment my own climax rose sharp and fast. She pushed back into me, meeting every movement with equal fire. Harder and deeper. My hands steadied her hips. My senses narrowed to the rhythm, the heat, the way her breath hitched into a startled sound as bliss washed through her. And then I followed with a shudder, a growl torn somewhere deep inside of me. Losing myself completely in the moment. In her.

  When it was over, I gathered her against me, lifting her to her knees so I could wrap myself around her. Her head fell into the crook of my neck; our breath mingled, uneven, warm. We stayed like that as the last tremors faded from our bodies, as the fire crackled and the world softened back into focus.

  Slowly I let her go and we dressed again, laughter quiet and breathy between us. Then we curled up in front of the fire, her body tucked perfectly between my legs and arms.

  “That was nice,” she murmured, small and warm and perfect against me.

  “Yes,” I breathed into her temple, resting my chin atop her head. “It was.”

  A thought tugged at me. The faint streak of red I’d noticed earlier.

  “Did I hurt you?” I asked quietly.

  Her head lifted just enough for her voice to reach me.

  “No. Why?”

  “I saw a bit of blood.”

  “Oh?” Her tone remained light. “Don’t worry. I’m okay. Probably just my moon cycle coming again.”

  I pressed a kiss to her hair.

  “Alright,” I said. Still not entirely comforted, knowing the last time she had this, she found out she was pregnant. I brushed the thought away.

  Silence swept over us like a comfortable blanket as we watched the fire’s shifting glow. A quiet peace.

  But that fragile peace broke moments later when a howl split the night.

  Artemis.

  Faelwen rose instantly, and the absence of her warmth left me cold and aching. “I’m coming,” Faelwen called out to him. The wolf scratched at the door, impatiently. “I’m coming!” Faelwen said again, her voice rising. She opened the door and he stepped inside. Drenched from the rain. His voice struck our minds with a clarity that made my chest tighten.

  It has begun.

  Faelwen’s eyes met mine. A single heartbeat of shared fear, resolve and the unspoken knowledge of what awaited us.

  The final battle had begun.

  ? ? ?

  Faelwen

  Rain hammered against us as we ran toward the Temple, the storm swallowing our footsteps until the great marble doors loomed out of the darkness. Spook waited there, already poised for battle, the edges of his hidden blades glinting faintly beneath his cloak. His hood cast his eyes in shadow, but I still felt the steady weight of his gaze on me. Sharp. Unspoken. Ready.

  We all went inside.

  Four magi stood gathered in a tight semicircle beneath the vaulted ceiling, flanked by officer Ilaris and lieutenant Ivor. Their rigid stance gave away the tension humming through the air.

  Two of the magi were elves, silver-haired and solemn. The other two bore the dark markings of the Necromancers, their expressions unreadable.

  I need to speak with you first, Wen, before we activate the runestones.

  Artemis’s voice brushed through my mind, calm on the surface, but I felt the agitation beneath it. The restless sweep of his tail betrayed him.

  Eyes turned toward us. The silence thickened. My heartbeat thundered so loudly I feared they could all hear it. I drew a breath, shaky but determined, and stepped forward. The backpack of runestones slid from my fingers and landed with a heavy thud.

  “What is the status on the front?” My voice nearly failed me, but the words came out steady.

  “The Fiend has arrived,” one of the elven magi answered, his gaze fixed warily on the stones.

  Fear clenched around my throat, cold and suffocating. My fingers trembled until I forced them into fists.

  “We need soldiers at the south gate and here at the Temple. He will come here for the runestones. We must hold him back for as long as possible.”

  Officer Ilaris pulled Lieutenant Ivor aside.

  “I leave magic of runestones in your hands, Faelwen,” he called to me. “My knowledge is better on battle field. I will protect the Temple and Westray. Your friends may help me. Report to my tent.”

  I turned to Ash and Spook as Ilaris and Ivor left the Temple in a hurry. Their faces were pale but steadfast, shadows of fear buried beneath a harder resolve. Spook hesitated, his hand drifting toward me and pulling it back, eyeing Ash’s response. I took it before he could retreat completely, pulling him into a fierce embrace. This might be the last moment we’d see each other and I wanted to hold them one last time. Ash joined, arms circling us both. Artemis pressed against my legs, and somehow the four of us folded into one silent knot of warmth and strength.

  No words passed between us. None were needed. All the love forged in winter nights, in danger and exhaustion and stubborn hope. It all lived in that single breath.

  When the embrace broke, it felt like something inside me broke as well.

  One last look and then Ash and Spook were gone, swallowed by the rain outside. I swallowed my tears, straightening my shoulders and turned to the magi who watched with expectant, uncertain eyes.

  “What now, buddy?” I whispered, looking down at Artemis.

  We arrange the stones in a pentagon, he instructed, his voice steadier now. Each sorcerer stands before one and draws its runic sign. The inner circle must be completed. Only then will the runes wake.

  I relayed his orders, and the magi moved to obey. They lifted the stones, carrying them reverently toward the centre of the Temple.

  Only then did I truly see the room.

  The marble shimmered with veins of soft grey, reflecting the evening light that seeped in through the upper carved windows. Stone basins clung to the outer balcony, vines cascading from them like emerald waterfalls. Torches and candles flickered in their sconces and candlesticks, casting an orange glow across the room.

  At the far end stood a marble shrine, its edge polished smooth by time. Behind it rose the towering statue of Herdus. Pictured as a noble knight, carved with a stern grace, one hand resting atop the hilt of a longsword. A golden circle crossed by a single line adorned the swords handle. That same sigil embroidered on the golden cloth draped over the shrine.

  I followed Artemis toward it.

  They always depict him as a valiant knight, Artemis remarked, but the truth is he’s hopeless with a blade and prefers to vanish the second trouble appears. Coward.

  A soft laugh slipped from me, knowing he was just as much a coward as he portrayed Herdus to be.

  What do you know about him? I asked silently.

  Too much, he responded and leapt onto the shrine, settling with a regal stillness that sent a strange shiver through me,

  Something in the way he sat – poised before the statue of Herdus, his golden eyes reflecting the Temple’s gilded accents – felt… symbolic. As though I was seeing him clearly for the first time.

  What did you want to talk about, buddy? I asked hesitantly, somehow fearing his answer.

  I kept my words mental so as to prevent the magi from hearing our conversation.

  Artemis inhaled deeply.

  There are truths I have kept from you. Parts of myself I did not want revealed. A weight I’ve carried alone, he said.

  I’ve noticed things… your knowledge of the runestones and the dragons for example, I answered quietly.

  A warm, slightly mournful chuckle echoed through me.

  Yes. Exactly that, little one. I know so much about the world because…

  He lowered his head, golden eyes dimming with something like sorrow. A cold dread crept up my spine.

  Because I created these realms with the runestones.

  The words dropped like a stone in my stomach. The marble beneath my feet seemed to tilt. And I felt like I couldn’t breath properly.