Priestess Dreaming (An Otherworld Novel)

by Yasmine Galenorn

  His blood-oath brother, along with another compatriot, was lost somewhere in the Shadow Lands, a region in Otherworld that separated the Southern Wastes from the eastern side of the major continent. There were ghosts there, volatile and angry, of thousands of people who had fled from the Scorching Wars. They had been hunted down and murdered, their bodies rotting into the land and fens. Restless spirits had taken hold in the Shadow Lands—giving rise to the name. They lingered there even now. And once again, Telazhar was leading an army across the land. This time, their rampage threatened to be far worse than the Scorching Wars.

  “I know you want to go looking for him, but we . . .” I stopped. The danger was everywhere. We needed Trillian here, but Darynal was his blood brother. We had been arguing about this for almost three weeks, and it had gotten pretty loud and there had been several times when one of us had stormed out, slamming doors and the whole shebang. But now, how could I encourage him to stay here with me running off in search of the Merlin? And should I even try? He had a blood-oath debt to Darynal that preceded our connection.

  A knot formed in the pit of my stomach, and, from somewhere far away, I heard myself say, “Go then. Go find him. But damn it, if you die I’m going to kick your balls till they’re blue.” I stared at him.

  Trillian pressed his lips together, but the look in his eyes said everything.

  “Are you sure?” Smoky turned to me. He seemed determined to put me on the spot today. “You are willing to allow this?”

  With a sense of defeat, yet knowing that I was doing what was right, I shrugged. “What else can I do? This war in Otherworld isn’t going to end tomorrow. I have to go find a living legend. We have a portal leading to the Northlands cranking out monsters by the minute and we have no clue where it is right now. Chase still has bad guys he has to catch right here. Life is happening all around us. It won’t wait for the perfect time to spring things like this—nature is unfettered, and Fate weaves her own path without regard to our comfort. I hate that Trillian will be risking his life, but the fact is—Darynal? He would do the same for Trillian or for me. We owe him that much.”

  Trillian swept around the table and gathered me in his arms. “My love, this means so much to me.”

  “I know,” I whispered. “That’s why I’m telling you to go. Go find him. But damn you, come home to me. You understand? No dying. No getting hurt.”

  “Understood.” He gave me another kiss, then straightened up. “I promise you, if I haven’t found him in two weeks, I’ll return. If I can’t find Darynal in that time, then chances are he’s dead. The Shadow Lands claim their victims without regard to the good in their heart.” Frowning, he crossed his arms over his chest. “I won’t go alone, either. I’ll find someone to take with me.”

  “I’ll go.” Rozurial stepped forward. “I know Otherworld inside out. I have been in the Shadow Lands before, when I was hunting Dredge. And I have several . . . acquaintances in OW that owe me favors. I’ll call one or two of them in—they are trackers and bounty hunters. We’ll do best traveling with others used to the open road.”

  Grateful to Roz, I beamed at him and he gave me a quiet wink. He knew how terrified I was at the thought of Trillian trekking off down to the Shadow Lands, and he knew just how dangerous that area was.

  Trillian leaned over and clapped him on the shoulder. “I’m glad to have you with me. Honestly, if it were anybody but Darynal—well, anybody outside of this room—you wouldn’t catch me anywhere near that place.”

  “When will you leave?” I reached out, took his hand and rubbed it gently against my cheek.

  “Tonight, love. We’ll take the portal in the basement of the Wayfarer—that one’s pointed to Y’Elestrial.”

  The Wayfarer, Menolly’s bar, had been torched and burned to the ground shortly before Samhain, killing a number of people in the process. We’d found out who did it and put an end to them, but now the bar was undergoing a total rebuild. Not renovation, there hadn’t been enough of it left to renovate. The basement had managed to stand intact, and part of the floor, but the bar had been destroyed. The workmen had gutted out all the burnt timbers and had started the new construction. Menolly was spending a lot of evenings talking to the architect about the new plans.

  The portal in the basement had fared much better than the main floor, as had the safe room. Neither had been damaged and we’d managed to keep the fire marshal and his men from tripping through into Otherworld. Portals were common knowledge, though their exact locations were not.

  The construction company promised that by the beginning of the year, Menolly would have a brand-new bar. She’d decided to nix the bed-and-breakfast angle and just go for a bigger, brighter kitchen and a new dance floor. Tavah—the guardian Menolly hired to keep watch over the portal at night—was still stationed there, only now there were two other guards on duty with her. And three during the day when Tavah slept. We’d begun to realize solo gigs were likely to end badly.

  I let out a long breath. “So you leave tonight. Derisa, when do you want me to go?”

  “Tomorrow afternoon, if you can. The sooner you find the Merlin, the better. We still have to convince him to work with us, though. Iampaatar is correct that Myrddin is . . . or was . . . capricious at best. The legends are filled with his tumultuous status.” She smoothed her cloak. “I will return tomorrow afternoon, late. Be ready. I will visit Talamh Lonrach Oll and bring Aeval and the others with me. Neither Bran nor Morgaine and her crew know about the journey yet.”

  “They’re going to be ever so overjoyed, no doubt.” I had no illusions about the pair’s reaction to the news. Neither one of them liked me—Morgaine because I would not throw my allegiance in with her, and Bran because . . . well, I’d killed his father. Even though it had been at the Black Unicorn’s decree—and even though he had been reborn and was now running free and growing strong again—my sacrifice of the father of the Dahns Unicorns hadn’t gone down well. Bran was an ally only so far as it met his agenda.

  “Then I will take my leave. On the way out, I’ll recalibrate the portal out in your backyard. And I will warn your guards.”

  Suddenly so tired I could barely think, I stood and curtseyed deep. She brushed my forehead with a kiss and then vanished out the back door.

  Turning to the others, I shook my head. “Can’t we even go on a shopping trip without drama of some sort?”

  “Speaking of shopping, I’ve sorted the bags in the parlor room. Some things were ruined, others look like they made it through without wear and tear.” Nerissa entered the kitchen. “I’m afraid I missed everything that was going on. Bring me up to speed, somebody?” Menolly’s wife was a gorgeous Amazon of a woman. As Iris began to run down what had happened with Derisa, I pushed myself to my feet.

  Making my way upstairs, I passed by Vanzir and Hanna, who were finishing the cleanup of the living room. The heat was turned up, and the place was a mess, but overall, I thought most everything but the electronics would make it through okay.

  Trillian, Smoky, and Morio followed me to our suite. I wanted to shout at Trillian for taking me up on my offer that he go find Darynal, but I knew all too well: If you tell someone it’s okay if they do something, don’t whine when they accept the challenge.

  As we silently filed into our bedroom, I turned to them. “I don’t want to talk about Trillian’s trip. I don’t want to talk about going to find the Merlin.” Then, after a pause, I added, “This might be . . . Trillian’s going to be gone for a while. I want to spend some time with him alone.” As I gazed at Smoky and Morio, they quietly nodded and withdrew. The sofas in my study were comfortable and they could rest there for a while. Grateful they understood, I waited till they left, closing the door behind them.

  Trillian moved silently toward me. “Thank you—for wanting time alone. For wanting to be with me before I go.” He nodded toward the bed and I crawled on it with him. I usually was with all of my husbands, I preferred it that way—but this time . . . just in case
, I needed to be with Trillian before he left for the Shadow Lands. The thought that he might not return weighed too heavy in my mind.

  I slipped out of my clothes and into a loose, sheer nightgown. Trillian undressed. He was fine. As he stripped off his turtleneck, his strong, dark pecs rippled, and my gaze followed his chest down to the six-pack abs that were lean and tight, then to that smooth V that disappeared beneath the front of his jeans.

  He reached back, loosened his hair out of the braid and it fell to his elbows, the silvery-cerulean strands smooth and glossy. His ice blue eyes glistened, such a contrast to his gleaming obsidian skin. Trillian seemed aloof if you didn’t know him, but beneath that cool exterior, his nature seethed with passion and a fierce intensity that could easily overpower anyone who had a weak nature.

  The passion between Svartan and Fae could reach critical mass very quickly. Both races possessed intensely sexual natures; the chemistry was like electroshock at times—high-voltage sex. And even though I was only half-Fae, I took after my father’s people. Sex was as necessary as breathing was for me.

  Slowly, I moved into his arms, and he pulled me close. “It’s been awhile since it’s just been us,” he whispered, encircling my waist and pulling me close.

  “I know.” I closed my eyes, feeling his breath, smelling the toasty cinnamon fragrance of his cologne. He was familiar—we had been together back in Otherworld before fear had driven me away from him. The Svartans were not known for sticking with partners . . . and while I didn’t ask for monogamy, neither had I been prepared to be cast aside. So even though Trillian and I’d undergone a ritual that bound us together—the Eleshinar ritual—I’d run away, leaving him behind. He’d pursued me, but it was only when we came over to Earthside that he finally managed to catch up with me.

  When we met again and I dared to kiss him, my heart was as good as gone. He would always be my alpha lover, though if pressed, there was no way I could pick one husband over another. They all complemented me. We were bound together, with each of them occupying an important space in my heart. Trillian called me on my bullshit. He was blunt and honest, and while he was arrogant as all get-out, he earned the right. I always knew where I stood with him.

  Now, he gazed into my eyes, his forehead pressed against mine. “And here we are. So very far from where we first met at the Collequia. Remember, love? Remember I told you that you could do anything you set your mind to?”

  I remembered, all right. He’d caught me right from the start, his silken voice wrapping around me. “I remember.”

  “I still believe it. Look at you. Look at what you’ve done, and what you’re becoming. Look at how much we’ve gone through, and yet here you are, calmly facing a journey that would send lesser women screaming their heads off. I’m so proud of you, Camille.” As he sought my lips, I sank into his kiss. It was warm and luxurious. Opulent and lush and reeking of sex.

  Moaning slightly, I shifted under the weight of his embrace, and he caught me up in his arms, carried me to the bed, and tumbled me onto the comforter, covering me with his body, pressing against me as the warmth of his skin melted through the sheer lace nightgown. I could feel him, through his jeans, hard and rigid, and straining for release.

  Gasping, I pushed against him. “Pants. Off.”

  He laughed, throaty and dark, and rolled over, unzipping his jeans and sliding out of them in one smooth motion. As he sat up, I feasted my sight on him. He was glorious, with a few scars from battle here and there, but his muscles and skin gleamed in the dim lamplight, and I wanted nothing more than to lean over and run my tongue along the faint beads of perspiration that rose along his stomach.

  I followed the trickle of sweat as it rolled down his chest, down to his groin, following the curve of the V leading to his cock. Rigid, hard, and throbbing, it gleamed as black as the rest of him—jet black, not coffee brown like Shade. Trillian was the color of glassy obsidian, and I moaned, suddenly so hungry for him that my stomach hurt.

  He laughed then, seeing my desire, and leaned back against the pillows, his arms beneath his head. I knelt by his side, bending to press my lips to the head of his cock, fitting them tightly over the strength and girth that I knew so well. Trillian had been inside of me more times than I could count, filling every part of me that could be filled—he’d fucked my mouth, my ass, my cunt, driven me into a frenzy of orgasm till I was giddy.

  Getting serious, I slid my lips along his length, and Trillian let out a garbled moan. Grinning—I knew how to work my tongue—I stroked him with my mouth, pressing my lips firmly around his shaft as I swallowed him deep, relaxing my throat muscles so I could almost take him to the hilt. His pre-cum tasted like salted caramel, warm and sweet, and the pulse of his veins throbbed through his cock as I slid up and down, working him over, tightening my lips around him so that the suction was strong.

  He pulsed, growing harder under my tongue. All I could think about was how much I wanted him to dive deep inside my cunt, to stretch me out, to thrust again and again until I was out of my mind with desire.

  Coiling around him, my tongue playing the snake, I covered every inch, then broke off and moved down, gently sliding my mouth over one of his balls, As I sucked, not hard enough to hurt, but hard enough to make him groan, the smell of his sweat filtered through me and his neatly trimmed pubic hair brushed against my cheek, tickling. The smell of his arousal urged me on.

  A moment later he tensed, and I thought he was about to come, but instead, he propped up on his elbows. “Enough for now. Come up here. Let me taste you.” The grin on his face said everything. He was Coyote, taunting me, cajoling me.

  I flipped around to reverse cowgirl position, and back up, straddling his body on my hands and knees. As I lowered myself inches above his face, Trillian leaned up and I felt his tongue begin to slide around my clit, circling, teasing me as he darted around the bud, tickling lightly and then stronger.

  I bit my lip and let out a whimper. His teeth caught a light hold then, sucking me, as one hand reached up to caress my butt, smoothly sliding over the curve. The next moment, he inserted a lubed finger up my ass, twisting as he slowly drove his way deeper. The next moment, he sucked on my clit, hard, and then gave a little nip—hard enough to smart.

  The pain combined with the grinding pleasure going on in my backside sent me into a tailspin and I let out a sharp cry. Trillian yanked his finger out and the next thing I knew, he had rolled out from under me and pushed me onto my stomach on the bed. I spread my legs and he lay flat on top of me, sliding his cock deep in my pussy, resting his hands on either side. As he thrust against me, my pussy tightened, squeezing him each time he plunged into me.

  One moment, he was deep inside me, then he was on his knees, grabbing me up to flip me over and pull me to my feet. As he walked me back to the wall, bracing me against it, I raised my legs, wrapping them around his waist, as he once again rammed his cock deep in my cunt. Caught in the sex haze, I held him tight, my arms embracing his back, clutching those broad shoulder muscles, as he pounded me against the wall, driving deeper with each thrust.

  My lips tingling, I leaned back, gazing into his eyes, and watched as the smile on his face turned to dark intensity, and then—before I was ready—the sudden rush of orgasm washed over me as I came, screaming out his name. Trillian gave one final thrust, and then he let out a low roar as he climaxed, filling me full with his cum, awash in the breaking light as morning began to unfold.

  * * *

  I woke around noon, not refreshed but alert enough to get up. Trillian was still asleep beside me, and I left him in bed, silently padding over to the bathroom, where I took a long, hot shower. I didn’t want him leaving here tired—better he was fully rested and able to cope with whatever Otherworld might choose to throw his direction.

  After drying my hair and putting on my makeup, I dressed in a warm gunmetal skirt that reached my ankles, but had a slit up the side to my thigh. I added a black PVC corset over the top, then slipped into a plum
bolero jacket to keep myself warm. As I slid into a pair of stiletto pumps, and headed out the door, closing it softly behind me, I heard noise coming from downstairs. Somebody was making a racket.

  The kitchen was a flurry of activity. Iris and Hanna were in full cookie-making mode. Delilah was tapping away on her laptop at the table with Maggie by her feet. Morio and Smoky were outside, doing something to the side of the house. I slipped out the door and motioned to Smoky. He was in white jeans and a T-shirt that was sticking to his back, and he was carrying a hammer from where he’d been nailing a board back onto the house.

  I slipped my arm through his elbow and walked him away from Morio. “So . . . where was the temper tantrum coming from yesterday? What’s going on?”

  He was silent for a moment, then a strand of his hair rose up to wrap around my shoulder. “I have a lot on my mind, Camille. I love you and am worried sick about the chance of losing you.”

  I was used to him being overly concerned, but this was a bit much even for Smoky. “What’s going on? You’re not going to lose me. I’m not going anywhere.”

  The clouds broke overhead and a new round of rain began. I shivered, wondering how he could stay so warm without a coat.

  Smoky cocked his head to the side. “A year ago, I almost lost you to my father. He just about destroyed you and that would have destroyed me. Two months ago, I almost lost you to a storm that devastated Elqaneve. That would have devastated me. I can’t stand the thought of finding your body, broken and bruised . . .” He winced, and his hair thrashed around him, reflecting his feelings.

  “This is who I am, Smoky. You’ve known that since the beginning. I didn’t hide my life from you.” I couldn’t figure out what to say to calm his fears. I understood them, but I also had a better hold on my emotions than my beloved dragon.

  He shrugged. “I’ve never felt this way about anyone. I’d never loved anyone before I met you. Not any of the women I’d met. Not Hotlips. No one. I share you because that is who you are, and I’ve grown to accept it—I actually . . . admire the Fox and the Svartan. I even like them, but don’t you dare tell them that.” He allowed himself a faint smile, but then it vanished before I could say a word. “I love you with all of my heart, and the thought of what you go through . . . what your destiny has laid out for you . . . it tears me up.”