Six Isles' Witches and Dragons Box Set

by Lisa Daniels

  “I just—” I’m kissing you. That shouldn’t be hard to understand. She tried to reach for his lips again, but he stopped her by placing one long finger upon her lips.

  “No need to rush it. You don’t need to kiss me like you’re drowning.”

  She froze with the touch of his finger still upon her, breathing harder than she normally did, both excitement and confusion quivering within. “Did I hurt you?”

  “No! No,” he said, smiling. “But I’m thinking you haven’t had much experience with kissing, have you?”

  And now here came the shame, ready to ride over her previous fire. “I… no...”

  “It’s okay. Really. I’m just saying you’ll need a lot of practice if you’re planning to do that again.” He wore a slight smirk on his features, and Kelsey blinked rapidly at him. What?

  “Do you… plan to let me practice?” She couldn’t gauge his mood, or decide whether she was embarrassed or eager. Another part of her screamed to withdraw and hide before she somehow messed up the situation more, but she kept herself firmly rooted.

  “Why, yes… it can be another part of your ongoing education,” Perran said, brushing his stubbled cheek against hers. He removed his finger at last. “But only if you’re absolutely sure you want this.”

  “Yes,” she said. He moved back to examine her from a different angle, and she could have sworn she saw pride in his features.

  “Good. Always know what you want.” He leaned forward, slower than her rush, prompting a similar motion from her. Their lips pressed against one another with a quiet warmth. His lips opened slightly, and he closed his eyes. Kelsey, feeling incredibly awkward leaving her own eyes open, copied the gesture. It felt much more natural, much easier to focus on the activity happening with their mouths. Much easier to… to sink into his touch, to feel like every part of her was melting, seeking to absorb him into her.

  “Just follow my movements,” he said in a gasp, pausing the kissing long enough to say so. “Don’t worry about kissing all by yourself. Just… respond to what I do.”

  “ ‘Kay,” she managed to answer in a strangled whisper, before he moved his lips, always switching position between her top and bottom lip. His hands clasped around her back, gradually sliding up so that his fingers splayed over her cheeks, and the tips pressed into the skin just past her ears. The realization of what he was doing sent a huge kick of arousal into her stomach, and when she surfaced for air between kisses, her breathing was every bit as heavy as his.

  Skies, she could get used to this. You didn’t have to love to kiss like this, did you? It was something those in love did. The thought of potentially being in love with him, or falling for him, made her feel vulnerable. Love made people vulnerable. Even false love did.

  But, vulnerable or not, she didn’t want to stop drowning in his kisses.

  When his left hand slid from her cheek to trail down to the hem of her shirt, another crazy jolt went through her stomach. So much feeling into such a simple act. She wanted to explore further. To turn it from kisses to something else.

  A sharp rap at the door shocked her back into clear, sudden thought, and she leaped away from Perran, in time for him to hastily neaten his jacket and hair. “Yes?” he croaked, before clearing his voice. “Come in.”

  The door opened to Alex. “Hey, I’m just—” She paused. “Am I interrupting something?”

  “No,” squeaked Kelsey, eyes wide. “Nothing. Nothing at all. We were doing nothing. Just talking.”

  “It’s all right,” Perran said, a strained smile coating his lips. “What did you want?”

  Alex made a soft click noise with her tongue. “Lissa wants some help. There’s a storm coming up—a bad one, she says.”

  “I can’t sense one,” Kelsey said, puzzled. One of the skills she’d developed was tasting storm energy in the air, and nothing told her otherwise.

  “You’ll certainly see one,” Alex said. “Come on.”

  Perran briefly touched Kelsey’s hand as she scrambled away from him. “I need to visit the bathroom first.”

  * * *

  Up on deck, she saw that Alex was right. Though the storm wasn’t sensed, it certainly could be seen. “Is that a normal storm?” Kelsey staggered to Lissa’s side, and it happened to be the side that permanently drooped.

  “Looks like one of those wildstorms you find on Zamorka,” Alex said coolly, joining them. “I was there. The wind witches can barely manage them.”

  “Lucky for them this time,” Lissa said with a growl, “we have two storm witches on the scene.”

  “They’re not normal storms. There’s something wrong with them,” Alex said, before ducking off with the rest of those who couldn’t contribute against the storm. Luan, Evelyn, and Rukia stood grim in their alcove, attempting to work protective winds over the Elegant.

  “What’s my role?” Kelsey asked, eyeing the storm with apprehension. It rolled towards them like a pursuer, as if it were exclusively targeting their ship alone.

  “Absorption. Making sure the worst of the storm’s energies don’t hit us. And suck so much energy out of it that we dissipate it.”

  “Wait, we can do that?”

  “Of course. We can get rid of storms. Most people think they can just get away with lightning rods and air witches. They forget just how valuable a storm witch is.” Lissa rubbed her hands, preparing, and Kelsey shivered, not really seeing how the two of them could handle that monstrous storm. The skies darkened around them. Winds picked up speed. Flashes of yellow and blue and green peeped through—colors Kelsey wasn’t used to witnessing in a storm. The energy felt crazed, chaotic.

  “This is bad!” Evelyn screeched from the alcove, before the winds drowned out her voice completely. “We’re thousands of feet up! We can’t take shelter even if we push for it! So you two better be up to snuff!”

  “Air witches,” Lissa said with a contemptuous glance at Evelyn. “Always so arrogant.” The first of the lightning flashed, and Lissa raised her hands, redirecting it to strike her in a blaze of brilliance.

  “Come on, Kelsey! Draw upon it!”

  Delving into the chaos of this storm almost swept Kelsey off her feet magically. Even touching it sent a wildness inside her, a mounting hysteria that made her want to laugh and cry. Bolt after flickering bolt slammed into her, the lights dancing behind her closed eyelids. When Kelsey touched on a strange, balled-up sensation within the storm with her mind, like a swirling vortex, she tugged at it. Light exploded as thousands of tendrils of lightning jolted into Kelsey at once, making her stagger backwards, bursting with electricity, bracing against the stream of power.

  “That’s it!” Lissa screamed her approval, joining Kelsey, splitting up the channeled lightning between them. Rain slashed Kelsey’s face, and the winds that broke through the air witch’s protection caressed her static-risen hair. Gasping from the power, Kelsey redirected the stream downwards, wasting the energy, letting it disappear into nothingness. No way could she contain so much power without it exploding within her. The two witches continued pulling in lightning, each time feeling as if Kelsey was breaking open a dam, letting lightning surge out the gap.

  I’m actually doing this, she thought, her lips opening, laughing wildly, insanely, juiced up on storm energy. The ship lurched, and Lissa and Kelsey, unable to control themselves, were flung off the edge of the ship. By the time Kelsey registered falling through flickering, raining darkness, something grasped her like an invisible windy hand, and plonked her unceremoniously back on board the ship. Panting, she saw Evelyn gesturing, her hand movements following Lissa’s descent onto deck.

  Lissa laughed, her face contorted from the effort, kneeling and swaying back and forth as she took in more lightning. Taking deep breaths, Kelsey persisted in her efforts to break the storm.

  It really felt like they were snatching droplets in a vast ocean. Barely making a dent in the frenzied thunder and lightning surrounding them. However, the reaching for the storm’s energy became h
arder as it grew distant. Her eyes focused on a speck of light within the calming storm, and she hissed in surprise. Nudging Lissa, she pointed, and both witches squinted, trying to make out what it was they saw.

  “What in storm’s name…” Lissa’s voice was audible, now that the winds had died down. Both of them were drenched and shivering, and very much in need of warmth. “Is that a ship?”

  Whatever it was, it approached them, getting larger by the second. Kelsey and Lissa sucked in more storm energy, and finally, people upon the ship—more a boat than a ship, really—were waving at them.

  Lissa’s jaw opened in shock and joy. There were about fourteen people crammed onto the boat. “Survivors…” Lissa said. “They’re from my island! Oh, Yerity, you clever little witch!” she roared at a blonde-haired woman sitting at the front, as she steered the boat next to theirs.

  “Permission to dock?” the woman called Yerity grinned. “Thought I saw some storm witch absorption going on here.”

  Meridas, who had scrambled to Lissa and Kelsey’s sides, saluted. “Permission to dock.”

  The survivors from the fallen island edged on board, and the storms around them abated. Lissa, joyful, went off to talk to her fellow islanders. Kelsey sucked in the last of the unnatural energies, redirecting it, then lay flat on the deck, staring now at clear blue skies. She couldn’t stop grinning. Her grin widened further when Perran crouched beside her.

  “Permission to pick you up?” he said softly, one eyebrow arched.

  “Granted,” she replied, raising her wet arms to him.

  Chapter Ten– Perran

  Perran hovered behind Luan, as she, along with Haut, interrogated the fourteen newcomers. No matter how noble they’d been in rescuing these people, they also needed to confirm that none of the islanders had criminal history. It was probably too much to hope that one of them might be an incredibly stupid fugitive, but still, better to check than to not.

  Their last prisoner had already been disposed of, since under legal rights, the police force could execute a known criminal if they were responsible for the deaths of ten or more people. And since their little criminal overlord happened to be chafing the hundreds with his body count… he didn’t serve much use other than spilling the names of his contacts.

  “None of them are Zamorkan,” Luan said to Perran after she’d finished interrogating the second to last, leaving the room behind the slightly bewildered refugee. “Unless they’re dyeing their hair, I suppose, but you don’t get a whole lot of hair dye in these parts. Most of them are afraid of Zamorka as well, think it’s infested with demons. And one of them was prickly as a hedgehog, but that’s because living as a hermit does that to you. They seem to be good.”

  “Thanks,” Perran said, smiling at her. He turned to Haut, who’d come out from the other cabin. His refugee was still inside. “What’s your verdict?”

  “The one in my cabin, I don’t trust,” Haut said shortly. “He’s not a known criminal, he doesn’t look Zamorkan, but I think we better keep a close eye on him. He might have some criminal contacts.”

  “Noted,” Perran said. Haut called for the man to leave the cabin, and the three of them watched the man pace down the corridor, giving nervous glances at them the whole time.

  “He is sweating like a pig,” Luan noted, pursing her lips. “Maybe I can… pay him a visit. A friendly one.”

  “Friendly?” Haut rolled his eyes. He nudged her playfully. “We all know what your brand of ‘friendly’ is.”

  “Did I forget to mention that I’m charming, too?” Luan smiled one of her rare smiles, before casually strolling in the direction of Haut’s suspicious refugee.

  “You might want to keep an eye on her,” Perran advised. “Meanwhile… I’m getting drinks. Got something special planned.”

  “Oh?” Haut smiled in a rather knowing way. “Celebrating with Kelsey, are we?”

  “Something like that,” Perran said, trying not to think about the passionate kiss Kelsey had given him.

  Or the ones she’d planted on his lips not long after he’d carried her back into the cabin, insisting that she needed to learn.

  She was… developing quite rapidly in that area. Eagerly, too, and he wasn’t about to discourage her of the notion. Though a part of him was nervous that he was pushing Kelsey harder than she had the will to tolerate. She certainly showed more confidence than before, but he didn’t want her to feel any pressure to please him. A bigger part of him was absolutely adamant against behaving like his sister’s abuser, or Kelsey’s.

  Carrying a bottle of wine and two glasses, he rapped smartly on Kelsey’s door, and she let him in with a smile, surprised at the offering. “Is this a date I didn’t know about?”

  “It sure is,” he replied, screwing off the top of the wine bottle and liberally pouring her some. “To celebrate your progress, and the fact that you did a fantastic job with the saving part.” He poured his own glass, raising it to her in a toast. “By the way, in return for providing Lissa future accommodation, I believe she’s quite willing to keep helping you with your powers—though I think you’re getting on just fine with them.”

  “There’s always more to learn,” she said, smiling modestly. “Though I definitely never pictured myself being able to absorb an entire storm when this all started.”

  “Me neither,” Perran admitted, enjoying the warmth of the wine, and her smile. He liked the way her hair rolled down in delicate waves, just past her shoulders. Her scent had a gritty, rain-like feel to it, along with something else he couldn’t identify, and it appealed to him immensely. He wasn’t quite ready to wax poetic about her soulful eyes and heart-shaped faced, but give him a piece of paper and a quill, and he’d certainly try.

  “If you keep staring at me like that, I might think you intend to do more than just talk to me,” Kelsey said, allowing a mischievous smirk to touch her lips. The unexpected expression took his breath away, and heated up the attraction within.

  “Maybe that’s the intention. Courting a powerful storm witch. Having myself at her mercy…”

  “Powerful…” she smiled ruefully. “I still don’t feel powerful.”

  “You absorbed an entire storm.”

  “That’s just power-power. Not…” she tapped her head. “I still feel like I’m stumbling my way through.”

  He thought he understood that, at least. “You’re only as powerful as you believe,” he said, edging his chair closer to hers. Their knees bumped together. She examined him, licking her lips, before reaching to kiss him softly. She captured his bottom lip, and he hastily put his glass aside to move himself into a better position, so they could kiss freely. She started slow, enticing, like they’d practiced, snatching breaths between each extended kiss. “You’re getting… very good at this,” he hissed, before dabbing his tongue lightly at her mouth, demanding entrance.

  She obliged, and desire shot to his groin, making it hard for his mind to focus, to do much else than drag Kelsey onto his lap and wrap his arms around her as they deepened the kiss.

  Chapter Eleven – Kelsey

  Perran’s kisses ignited her insides in such a delicious manner, that she wanted nothing more than to scrap his planned date and take things to the final step. When she wasn’t being distracted with the mystery of the king’s island, or her own dark, negative thoughts, she kept wondering about Master Rus. If he cared for her. He said he did, but it was one thing to say something, another to mean it.

  Even with the affection, and the kisses he gave her.

  Lord Feylen had once told her he cared for her. He said it often, even though his actions contradicted his words to the point where she just didn’t believe that caring meant anything. Her parents cared, but they were distant, not a part of her everyday life.

  Now, Master Rus treated her with kindness. He threw people at her, and those people became friends. Supportive friends who wanted to boot Kelsey out of her own mind and into a better place. She understood that more than ever, how annoyi
ng she was to them.

  How annoying she was to herself.

  No one could ever grow if they acted like she did. They’d just slip into shadows, becoming nothing. Worth nothing. She’d managed to screw herself up without realizing it, happily planting herself into the role of victim.

  I’m no victim. She thought that with fury in her heart. Fury at herself, fury for wasted opportunities. Anger that she never tried to speak out, never tried to stop Feylen from creeping into her soul and ripping all the emotions apart.

  And with that, she knew she needed to be honest with Perran. She didn’t want practice kisses, for him to compliment each one. Or for him to be delicate and gentle around her. She wanted him, pressed against her, heat burning through her skin as they melded together.

  He got up from the chair, lifting her up with him by the rear. Her legs clamped around him as she continued the kiss, shaking in excitement, and he half-ran, half-stumbled with her to the bed. Her back hit the mattress, and he clambered on top of her, eagerly tucking one of her legs against his hips.

  “Don’t stop,” she said, breathless, when they broke apart.

  He placed his forehead against hers, before she could lunge to kiss him again. “Are you sure you want this?”

  “Yes,” she said, taking fast, unsteady gasps of air. “Please,” she whispered.

  She felt him shiver. “Well, I suppose if you say please...” he grinned, before capturing her lips in his own. Between kisses, he managed to get out the words, “I was finding it hard to make up excuses not to take it further.”

  She let out a high, giddy laugh, feeling strangely drunk. All her body flooded with warmth, craving contact with his. Just the way he pressed against her, so everything was flush with one another, the way his movements acted as a powerful stimuli, along with the zap of pleasure when his hips and growing erection brushed the fabric just over her bundle of nerves…