“It doesn’t matter what Sorntar whispered into your head while I was busy elsewhere. I will get what I want in the end. Though, perhaps I should let you seduce me. I might enjoy it.” Itharann watched her with an unreadable looked for a moment and then moved on to the next chore of grinding herbs and pigments into a paste.
He sorted through several packets containing the dry ingredients needed for creating the paint. Faster than she wished, he had them ready.
“We’ve wasted enough time. Take off your clothes.” Power laced his words.
Seeing no point in fighting, Ashayna obeyed, stripping with cold haste. Naked, the breeze lifted goose flesh on her skin.
“That’s a poor way to seduce a man. If you’re serious about it, take it slow, reveal a little at a time. Make him wait for it.”
Ashayna snorted. “I’ll remember your advice when Sorntar’s back in control.” A small part of her mind wondered at the foolishness of baiting a Larnkin, but her fear was gone, replaced by new purpose.
Itharann’s smile stretched further. He picked up one of the pots and dipped a finger in the paste, and then motioned her closer.
After a brief silent debate, Ashayna came and allowed him to begin painting her body with the foreign symbols. If his fingers lingered on her skin longer than was necessary, she didn’t say anything. But she thought about what Sorntar had said. Was it possible? Did she have it in her? Did it matter? No. They were both doomed if she didn’t try.
When Itharann would have painted the symbols on his own body, she took the pot from him.
“Eager?”
“Perhaps, but I’m not sure if I remember them all. I was a little distracted last time.”
“Go on. I’ll guide you if you should falter.”
She held her silence, and kept her touch a light caress. Was it her imagination, or did he shiver when her fingers glided across his flesh? Maybe, maybe not, but he did close his eyes and sighed like it was the first time he’d relaxed in all his life. He gave nothing else away.
When finished, he ordered her to the lake. Ashayna reached water’s edge and stopped. A soft rustle of feathers announced Itharann had joined her on the bank. He commanded her to face him while he stood gazing out onto the smooth surface of the lake.
After he let her look her fill, he grinned and motioned for her to enter the water. Her body obeyed his command. Her magic didn’t stir at all. No memories. Nothing. With a growing sense of defeat, she walked out into the lake. She was going to fail Sorntar again.
The tepid water had an earthy smell, but underlying it was the sharper scent of the magic non-water she remembered from their first bonding. She kept walking deeper until she feared Itharann planned to make her walk to its very middle.
He didn’t order her to halt until the water reached her chin. She stopped, but before relief had fully registered, her body dove under the surface. She swam with her arms arched over her head, legs kicking, slicing through the water. Need for air burned in her lungs. Curving back up towards light and air, she surfaced next to Itharann and dragged in lungful after lungful of air. Fresh air had never tasted so good.
Itharann took a step forward, his gaze roaming over her in a way that raised a blush to her face. He seemed to struggle with some internal decision, but after no more than a few heartbeats his expression softened and he reached out and smoothed a lock of her hair behind her ear. Leaning into her, he placed his hands on her shoulders and stroked his lips against hers in a gentle kiss.
Even with everything Sorntar had told her, she stiffened, surprised by Itharann’s tenderness.
“I won’t hurt you.” His lips stretched into a sorrowful smile, showing his fangs. He caressed her collarbone. “I’m capable of gentleness.”
He bent for another kiss, his warm breath causing her skin to tingle. He cupped her breast, the weight of his hand soothing and arousing.
Her heart, mind, and body were all at war. In her heart, she only wanted Sorntar, her mind was willing to do anything to win him back, while her body was content with Itharann’s attentions.
Warm lips nipped at the underside of her jaw, and then he froze. Itharann loosed a curse.
“What’s wrong?”
“My host needs to be put in his place.” Itharann’s expression darkened with anger. “If Sorntar continues fighting me in the future, he’ll get us all killed.”
“Wait. Sorntar doesn’t want this?” She pushed at his chest, trying to break free of his embrace. “Please don’t do this. I’ll do as you ask in the future, but please don’t force him.”
He pulled her closer and buried his face in her hair. His fingers tugged at the damp strands.
“Itharann, please no. It will destroy him.”
“Why should we stop? We both want this. Sorntar isn’t gentle and innocent like you think…you’ve been in his dreams. He’s wanted you almost since the first moment he saw you. Oh, yes, he’ll rage and fight at first, not because he’s trying to be noble, but because he wants to be with you first. Which is foolish. We share one body. Regardless, in the end he’ll like it. You’re bondmates, after all. Come, kiss your beloved Sorntar.”
Ashayna fought his compulsion. She won for the first handful of heartbeats, but Itharann urged her closer with the flick of a finger and she couldn’t fight his command. Her hands settled on his shoulders, caressing his hard muscles before stretching up on her toes and laying a kiss along one cheek.
“You didn’t specify where.”
Itharann chuckled, “I’ll be more specific in the future. Come kiss your bondmate with passion. Sorntar will…” Itharann froze, making a helpless choking noise. His limbs shook and his talons curled into his palms with such force blood dripped into the lake, tinting the water a pale pink. Ashayna felt the weavings holding her give way.
“Run.” An earsplitting scream echoed on the heels of his one word.
Ashayna would recognize Sorntar’s raptor scream of rage anywhere.
No matter how sensible his words, she would not leave him alone to deal with Itharann’s wrath. Ashayna slipped up behind Sorntar and embraced him.
“I can’t hold him off. Run.”
Her magic came at her call, filling her with power and a sense of peace. This was right, holding her bondmate close to her heart, safe within a cocoon of her power. “Easy, love, I’m here,” she said, echoing words he’d uttered to her when they’d made love in a dream. “I’ll always be here for you.”
Grief and helplessness shadowed his features. “I love you.”
“I know.” She lifted his face to hers, kissing him, conveying through her touch how much she loved him. The brief caress was over too soon. She cleared her mind, opening herself to her magic. Power hummed louder, whirling through her blood and up to the surface of her skin. Another wave crested, rising from the symbols painted on her body. Magic swirled around her. “Itharann, you’ve made Sorntar suffer enough. I’ll bond with you if you promise not to hurt him more.”
She took his hand and led him to shore. Sorntar or Itharann followed. She wasn’t sure which one was in command. It no longer mattered. Time for fear and uncertainty was over.
As she made her journey to the shore, she embarked on another parallel voyage. Searching her memories, Ashayna returned to her time with the Oracle Stone. When her mind shied away from those dark soul-destroying memories, she fisted her hands and fought onward. Deeper she flew, down the dark pathway of her rebirth, further back to the black void of death and beyond into the last moments of her life. Itharann whimpered in her mind, a sound of horror she’d carry with her always.
Chaos swirled like storm winds, threatening to shred her mended soul, and then Sorntar’s mind touched hers, soothing, strengthening.
Farther, she needed to go back farther. She pushed onward.
Light invaded the shadows, and they faded like fog before the sun. She broke free of the dark memories of her bondmate’s capture and subsequent change. Grief and horror gave way to happiness as fragments
of older memories swirled by faster.
The joy of life with her beloved. The weight of a child in her arms. She loved Sorntar, but not just him. She loved his Larnkin too. More memories surfaced. Itharann, before he became Truth Made Anew. Even then she’d known how rare it was for a Larnkin to love a mortal spirit. His steady presence was always there to guide and protect both his host and his bondmate. He loved her. He’d never admitted it to her. He hadn’t needed to. Their souls had mated over their many lifetimes. She knew his spirit as well as her own.
“She loved me.” Itharann’s voice whispered across her thoughts, his tone fragile, disbelief mixed with awe. “And she knew of my love?”
“Yes, Itharann,” Ashayna and Sorntar whispered together.
“I...I am…so sorry.” His thoughts slipped away from her as he withdrew into himself.
The world of ancient memories, of a life lived long ago, faded. Itharann stood before her, his mouth parted in shock. He struggled to speak, but she placed a finger over his lips. He bowed his head, dropping to his knees in the wet sand. New grief washed his face with tears.
When he pressed his head against her stomach, Ashayna stroked his crest, running her fingers through his soft feathers. “Come home now and heal. Come to me.” She took a step back. Then held out her hand, gesturing for him to come to her. Power accompanied her simple gesture and Itharann nodded.
He remained on the ground, but closed his eyes. Faint at first, magic glowed upon the surface of his skin, and then it intensified, pooling around the gates painted on Sorntar’s skin. More magic surged from the gates and flowed to her, into her, answering her call.
As she absorbed Itharann into her body, her own magic flared. Power of the Destroyer filled her, flowing across Itharann. He didn’t fight her. Instead, huddling closer to her spirit, seeking what remained of his other half.
When Ashayna looked inside herself, she found Itharann. Darkness, and the soul-deep bruises left by Dakdamon, tainted his beautiful spirit. Angered by the fact anyone, be it god or demon, would dare enslave her beloved, she caressed the shadows marring Itharann with a feather-light touch. The power inherent to the Destroyer answered her need, brushing away what didn’t belong. She did not know how long she chased the streaks of darkness on his soul, but she didn’t quit until she had them all. Once finished, his spirit shone silver-blue to her mage sight.
They remained silent, merely watching each other for a long time from within the depths of her mind. Then at last, Itharann inclined his head in her direction. “Thank you, my beloved.” He began to fade.
When she opened her eyes and looked upon the physical world, the glow of Itharann’s power was sweeping away from her, flowing back to where Sorntar lay collapsed on the ground.
“Sorntar!” She launched herself across the distance, and was almost within touching distance when his body began to shimmer. Itharann’s purple-black feathers vanished, leaving Sorntar as he had been before his possession. As she stared at his indigo-blue feathers and deep bronze skin, hope rekindled in her heart.
Had she really healed Sorntar?
Nothing in her life had been easy. This could be another of Itharann’s tricks. She’d wait for her bondmate to awaken and judge for herself.
Water lapping against the shore, and the cries of distant birds soothed her. Once again the lake held the peaceful stillness it possessed before they had called a storm of magic to its shores. It was not unlike her life, she reflected. A storm of magic had descended upon her life and left it in turmoil. No amount of wishing would take back what the storm had caused, nor would any amount of self-pity on her part return her life to what it had been before. Moving stiffly, she walked back to their small camp, and retrieved two blankets. One she wrapped around herself and the other she tucked with care around Sorntar. Then she lay back to watch the sky. Doing anything else seemed too dangerous for her fragile sense of peace to withstand.
* * * *
A moan of pain alerted Ashayna to the fact Sorntar had regained consciousness. His eyes opened the smallest slit, then hastily closed again. A moment later, he threw an arm over his head to shield his eyes from the worst of the late afternoon light. Such a simple mortal gesture was not something an ancient Larnkin was likely to make. And as easily as that, the dam holding her emotions at bay crumbled. Ashayna threw her arms around Sorntar. Burying her face in the curve of his neck, she cried, deep body-quaking sobs she couldn’t control.
“Ashayna? What happened?” Sorntar’s voice came out groggy. Struggling to a sitting position, he took in their location with a bewildered expression, clearly trying to piece together what events had led him there and failing. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders. “Ash, talk to me. Are you hurt?”
She attempted to find her voice only to feel her control slip and tears welled up in her eyes again. Refusing to meet his gaze, she hid her face in the feathers of his crest. They held each other in silence. Ashayna rubbed her wet cheek against his shoulder, leaving traces of dampness, but she didn’t care. His skin was warm against her body. She molded her hands to his shoulders, then stroked them down his back until she caressed the sensitive place where his wings merged with his body. The deep rumble of his cooing broke the silence. Encouraged, she brushed gentle kisses along his neck and lightly stroked her fingertips down his chest, the thundering of his hearts a reassurance he was still alive and this wasn’t a dream. She smiled while her tears continued to fall.
“Hmm…while this is exceedingly pleasant, it does mean we need to have our talk about phoenix mating customs, courtship, and protecting my honor again,” he said in even tones.
She froze in shock. One of her hands had strayed under his blanket to caress the feathers shielding his groin. A fiery blush crawled up her neck and face. “Sorntar…I’m sorry.” She jerked away. As she did, Ashayna got a good look at his face.
Humor glinted in his eyes and his lips pulled up at the corners. He laughed. “Ash, forgive my poor sense of humor, it was badly done. But I didn’t know how else to stop your tears.” His thumbs brushed along her hot, damp cheeks.
She punched his shoulder and stood up. “Idiot,” she ground out without rancor, since he was trying to stem her tears. She watched him through lowered lashes before offering him a hand up.
He studied her outstretched hand, as if it was something miraculous. With a shy smile, he took her hand in a firm grip. She pulled him to his feet and they stood staring at each other.
“Ashayna, all humor aside, I don’t remember everything that happened when I was controlled by Itharann. Did he…did I hurt you?” Dread thickened his voice. “Were there other times when I didn’t fight?”
She sighed in relief. That, at least, she could answer without causing him more guilt. “No, Sorntar, he didn’t harm me. Anger and fear he caused in plenty, but no permanent damage.”
“There is more you’re not telling me. I harmed others. I remember flashes. I’ve harmed several others, haven’t I?”
“Neither you nor Itharann harmed anyone. Dakdamon did. Remember that before you let guilt eat away at you.” Ashayna put steely certainty in her voice, determined he would understand. “And if you’ll remember, it was your words to me that gave me strength to find a peaceful spot in my own soul and heal Itharann. Thank you for that.”
He nodded once in a somber way, acknowledging what she said even if he didn’t entirely believe it. “I wasn’t sure it would work, but Itharann is as he should be....”
Leaning forward, Ashayna silenced him with a kiss. She pressed against him, nuzzling the underside of his jaw. “Do you remember a certain dream the first night you slept in River’s Divide?”
Sorntar stiffened in her arms. She smiled against his neck.
“Yes.” There was heat in his voice. “You were aware of my dream?”
“I was a part of it. And Sorntar—I liked it.”
Again, her fingers found that spot just below where his wings joined his back and stroked with a rhythmic pressure.
The vibration of his cooing broke over her like a wave of heat, and she smiled at the sensation. His fingers curled around the nape of her neck, shifting her slowly closer. With a soft rustling, her world became a familiar indigo blue. Feathers caressed her bare arms. Breath caught in her throat.
He bent down and brought their lips together, a feather-light touch, the ghost of a kiss. She wanted more, needed more. But he held her face framed between his hands and continued to brush his lips along her cheeks, her brows, and her forehead in a slow meandering trail. He took his time until she grew frustrated and turned her head, capturing his lips in a demanding kiss.
Fingers tangled in her hair, Sorntar returned her kiss, his lips sweeping across hers. When she opened her mouth for him, his reaction was strong and fierce. There was an edge of aggression in how he dragged her against his hips, so close she could feel his heat along the length of her abdomen.
“Are you sure about this?” he asked, his tone gentling. “You’re so much smaller, I don’t want to hurt you.”
She groaned and nipped at his throat, just under his jaw. “You won’t.” She tugged and pushed at his blanket, cursing it for preventing her from brushing her heated skin against his. She didn’t stop until it was down around his waist and she could lay her hands on the firm muscles of his chest. “I want you too much.”
His smile turned predatory. With no more warning, he pressed her back against the ground and parted her blanket. Warm fingers brushed across her sensitive breasts. Shifting his weight, he nudged her knees apart farther and reached down between them, his fingers teasing at her mercilessly while his mouth closed over a nipple.
His gentle assault dragged a moan from her. Flames hotter than Sorntar’s elemental fire licked at her belly. If he didn’t do something soon, she was going to burn.
A deep, masculine chuckle caressed her overheated skin.
“Sorntar, please...”
In answer, he started a sensuous glide against her, until her hips bucked with need. Heat swirled up from her core, hot, tingling. Desperate now, she arched her back, her body demanding something instinct and her magic said only Sorntar could fulfill. She growled his name in growing frustration, but he seemed content to merely stroke and tease her until she was gripped by a mindless, raging need. Then finally he glided into her, filling and stretching her one slow bit at a time. And at last they were one.
Betrayal's Price (In Deception's Shadow Book 1) Page 28
