The north landing was the largest entrance point into the city, a natural-looking platform near the summit. The corridor lightened with sunlight as she neared it, then she strode out into fresh air, squinting through the brightness. Zwi ran ahead of her.
Ash and Lyre stood at the other end of the platform, the sprawling mountain range spread out behind them. They were speaking, quiet and solemn, before Lyre reached up and gripped Ash’s shoulder in a sort of older brother way, saying something as he grinned.
Piper’s steps slowed, her eyes flashing over them. How different they seemed from the pair she’d first met in her Consulate: Ash, the powerful, decisive draconian with all his dark secrets, and Lyre, the playful, almost superficial incubus with his over-the-top flirtations and heart-on-his-sleeve simplicity. They hadn’t changed—not much, anyway—but she’d since come to see so much more. Ash, beneath his cloak of secrets, was motivated by desires that were simple yet profound—passionate fearlessness, enduring loyalty, a fierce love for those he cared about. Lyre, beneath his easygoing, mild-mannered exterior, was a creature of mystery, far more complex than she’d ever imagined an incubus could be.
Said incubus spotted her and that mischievous, flirty little half-smile curved his lips. The expression stretched the faint but noticeable scars on his cheek—three thin, horizontal white lines. She hurried over to him.
“Where do you think you’re going?” she demanded, planting her hands on her hips. “And without saying goodbye!”
“Of course I was going to say goodbye,” he said, all innocence. “That’s why I waited for you.”
She scowled. “But why are we saying goodbye at all? Why are you leaving?”
“For the same reason you are.”
“But … where will you go?”
“Oh … places.” He grinned and shrugged. “Does it matter?”
“Of course it matters! You don’t need to go off by yourself. If you don’t want to stay here, you could come with me.”
Lyre’s smile gentled. “You have your own things to do, Piper. You don’t need me tagging along.”
She paused, glancing at Ash. Lyre’s words resonated too strongly with her worries—ones she’d been working hard to ignore—about Ash’s path in life diverging from hers, going places she couldn’t follow. Lyre saw the same thing, except he saw her path going places too. Behind them, Zwi began a game of pounce with an innocent pebble, batting it enthusiastically across the rocky ground.
“But what about you?” she whispered.
“Don’t worry about me. There are untold numbers of gorgeous women out there just waiting to meet me.”
She rolled her eyes and looked at Ash. “Are you okay with this?”
“Of course,” he replied. “I was beginning to think he would never leave.”
“W-what?”
“Have we ever spent this much time together before?” he asked Lyre, clearly amused.
“Not even close,” Lyre said. “At this rate, people will start thinking we’re an item.”
“Yeah, you’d better get your ass out of here then.”
Lyre smirked and cast a look at Piper. “It’s her fault. Ever since she dragged us into her Sahar mess, we’ve been stuck together taking care of her.”
“Hey!” she protested. “I didn’t drag him into the Sahar mess. He was trying to steal it, remember?”
“Well, you got us accused of the theft, so I think it’s your fault. Right, Ash?”
“Definitely.”
“No way, that’s not fair!”
“All’s fair in love and war,” Lyre purred, winking at her. He let out a long, wistful sigh. “And despite all my best efforts, I never quite managed to get you out of your clothes.”
She snorted. “You never had a chance.”
“Hey, that time in the car—”
“Lyre!”
He snickered, and his expression softened. “You and Ash are perfect together.” His wicked grin returned. “You’re both bullheaded and reckless. I don’t need that kind of stress in my life.”
She blinked quickly, fighting to keep her composure. “Do you really need to leave now?”
“Yep,” he said brightly. “Already said my goodbyes. And I saved yours for last because I knew you’d argue with me.”
She grimaced. “I don’t know that I like being that predictable.”
His eyes lifted from her to something behind her. She turned to see Mahala walking over, her dragonet on her shoulder.
“Ready?” the draconian woman asked.
Piper looked between her and Lyre in confusion.
“Mahala is flying me over to the ley line,” he explained. “Ash is still on the no-fly list after that wing injury.”
“Oh.” She bit her lip. She wanted to argue more. She didn’t want him to leave.
He had no trouble reading her thoughts. His hands captured her shoulders and he pulled her into a hug, engulfing her in the spicy cherry scent of incubus.
“This isn’t goodbye forever,” he chided gently. “I’ll catch up with you for the next adventure, don’t worry. Ash knows how to track me down too.”
She squeezed him in return. He let go—too soon for her taste—and stepped back. He turned to Ash and they did one of those brief, backslapping man-hugs before clasping forearms.
“Take care of yourself,” Ash said.
“You too, man.”
Piper frowned at the casual exchange and realized this wasn’t a final farewell for them, but rather a temporary parting of ways, something they had done many times before. Lyre had his own life, goals and dreams and experiences she didn’t know a thing about. He had his own path and following her or Ash around wasn’t what he wanted. And he didn’t need help from either of them to forge his own road.
In fact, she suspected that Lyre was the one who would be showing up to help them if they needed it, not the other way around.
Ash wound an arm around her waist, startling her out of her thoughts. “Time to go.”
“Huh? But Lyre—”
“Is ready to go. And you don’t need to hang around and watch him fly off into the sunset.”
She glanced at the bright sky. “But sunset isn’t—”
He half-dragged her back toward the corridor. She dug in her heels, looking over her shoulder. Standing beside Mahala, Lyre gave her a casual wave and his trademark crooked smile.
“See you around, beautiful.”
She stopped resisting—both figuratively and literally—and waved back. She would see him again. She knew she would.
She and Ash entered the stone corridor, Zwi trotting after them, and she managed not to look back. Instead, she looked at Ash. Lyre was on his way and it was almost time for her to go too. It seemed silly that she hadn’t figured out sooner that Lyre wouldn’t hang around the draconian city forever either.
Now that they didn’t have to hide from Hades, the draconians were planning to reclaim the ancient city with the dragon statue. Ash had suggested it and the draconians were excited to begin. Soon they would send a group to set up a few dwellings. It was the first step in a long process to rebuild their culture and territory, and Ash would be busy leading the efforts.
And Piper didn’t have a place in any of those plans. That’s why she needed to leave.
They walked through the quiet corridors, hands entwined. She chewed the inside of her cheek, thinking about what to say to him. He knew she’d been making plans to depart within the next cycle but they hadn’t talked about it. Neither of them wanted to. Neither of them was ready to talk about their future together.
They entered an unfamiliar part of the mountain city. Not that a lot of it was familiar to her, but she’d definitely never been here before. The hall grew narrower and more winding, almost like a natural crevice. The path steepened and the air smelled musty.
“Where are we going?”
“You’ll see,” he said.
She followed him in curious silence as he trekked up the steep pathway
until they reached a dead end. A breeze blew across her face and sunlight beamed down through a gap in the rock above. Ash grabbed the ledge and pulled himself out the opening, then reached down for her. She grasped his hand and he lifted her up.
The bright suns blinded her as wind whipped her ponytail around her head. She squinted—and gasped from a surge of vertigo. She pressed back against him, his arms tight around her middle.
They stood on a tiny ledge of rock at the very summit of the mountain. Spread before her was an endless sea of mountain peaks, the dark, jagged basalt cutting at the sky. Forests of fiery red foliage sprawled through the twisting valleys. In a neighboring valley, a waterfall plunged hundreds of feet down the side of a mountain into the lush woodland below.
Above, the half-circle face of Periskios hovered gracefully in the sky just above the peaks. Swirls of white and gold clouds drifted across the planet’s surface and she could almost swear they were moving in an alien wind.
“This is all Taroth territory,” Ash murmured in her ear, pulling her closer. “This is all ours.”
“All yours,” she whispered, holding his arms against her middle, never wanting him to let go. His ‘ours’ didn’t mean him and her; it meant him and the draconians. “It’s beautiful.”
He stepped away from the rocky peak behind him, pushing her closer to the edge and causing her a minor panic attack. Before she could protest, he sat on the ledge, bringing her down on his lap so their feet dangled over the sheer drop. She leaned back, heart beating a little too fast.
“Uh,” she said breathlessly. “Is this a good idea? You’re not supposed to fly yet.”
“I got the all-clear from the healers last cycle.”
“You did? Why didn’t you fly Lyre to the line then?”
“Because Mahala wanted to do it more than I did. Besides, Zwi couldn’t fly him and I don’t really like carrying people around—except you, of course.”
She snickered. “A little too close and personal for anyone else?”
“Just a bit.”
“You’ve carried Lyre before.”
“Only when necessary.”
She leaned her head back against his shoulder. “I’m glad your wing is healed.”
He rubbed his hands over her upper arms, his thumbs brushing over the bumps of her scars. “Are you still planning to leave next cycle?”
She flinched. Until now, he hadn’t asked directly about her departure. She snuggled deeper into his lap, the beauty of the mountain view not quite enough to ease the ache in her heart.
“It’s time for me to go,” she said. “Just like Lyre, I guess. I want to visit Hinote and actually stay in the Overworld for a while this time. Plus I need to thank Shinryu for everything and pass on Tenryu’s message.”
As she’d suspected, they hadn’t seen Tenryu again. Ash hadn’t said much about it and didn’t seem too bothered. She’d asked if they were still bonded and Ash had shrugged. Either he wasn’t sure or he didn’t want to say. She hadn’t pressed; she didn’t understand his relationship with Tenryu and if he didn’t want to share, she wouldn’t pry it out of him.
“After that,” she continued, “I’ll go back to Brinford to see my father and Uncle Calder.”
“Dealing with the Gaians will be a job and a half,” he remarked.
She twisted her hands together. For weeks she’d agonized over her decision to leave but she knew she had to do it. Ash made her deliriously happy but that wouldn’t last if she stayed with him. Eventually, her feelings of displacement would sour their love. As much as she wanted to support him, she couldn’t be his shadow. She wanted to live her life too, to chase her dreams and make a difference in the worlds on her own terms.
She just didn’t know how to tell him that she didn’t want the only future he could offer her.
“You have a big job to do too,” she said, barely managing a whisper. “There’s so much going on here. Your future is here. But …” She swallowed hard and forced the words out. “Mine isn’t. My future isn’t here … with you.”
His hands on her arms stilled.
Anxiety spiked through her. She twisted in his lap to see his face, but his expression was a mystery, his grey eyes telling her nothing of his thoughts, a tiny wrinkle between his eyebrows the only sign that her words might have hurt him.
“It’s not that I don’t want to be with you. Being with you …” She touched his face, pressing her hand to his cheek, wishing his expression would change, would reveal something. Her mouth trembled and she feared she was breaking his heart. “I love you, Ash, but I can’t stay here. With you as the Taroth warlord … I just—I don’t belong in this place and …”
He tilted his head to one side. “Is this what’s had you in knots since Asphodel?”
“I—” she stuttered, confused by the hint of amusement touching his eyes. Didn’t he understand what she was saying? “Well, maybe it doesn’t bother you, but the idea of leaving you does actually upset me—”
His fingers caught her chin and drew her face up to his. He captured her mouth in a kiss, cutting off her sentence. She closed her eyes and kissed him hard, sliding her hand around the back of his head to keep him from pulling back, afraid it would be their last kiss ever.
“I’ve always known our futures would take us to very different places,” he murmured against her lips. “Just as I knew you would never be content to follow me. You’re not a follower, Piper, and that’s part of what I love about you.”
Her breath caught. He’d never quite said he’d loved her in as many words. She didn’t need him to say that specific phrase—one that was probably more of a human thing anyway—to know how he felt about her, but the word “love” still sent a flutter through her middle.
He kissed her again, his lips moving slowly against hers before he spoke.
“I never expected this to be simple—or easy. There’s no script for two people like us.” He lifted his head, his eyes locking on hers, looking through her, down into the depths of her soul. “But is there some rule that we can’t write our own?”
She stared at him, lost in his eyes, drowning in them. “What do you mean?”
“I told you before that I was yours for as long as you wanted me. Us being apart doesn’t change that.”
“It … doesn’t?”
“Our paths might be different, but does that mean they can never intersect again?”
“But you’ll have responsibilities … You need to ensure the Taroth line continues.” By having babies with a draconian woman, but she didn’t say that.
He touched her chin again, keeping her from dropping her eyes from his. “That won’t be today or tomorrow. It won’t be this season or the next. I’m yours for as long as you want me, and no amount of time or distance will change that.”
One day at a time, that’s what she’d promised herself, wasn’t it? But she hadn’t specified that those had to be consecutive days. She’d been thinking that his path would carry him away from her, to places she couldn’t follow. And maybe some day it would, but just because she was leaving didn’t mean what they had needed to end, did it?
“But … do you really think we can make it work?”
“What constitutes ‘working’? Is there a checklist I don’t know about?” He drew her closer. “We make our own rules, Piper. Whatever makes us happy. Whatever makes you happy.”
Her smile came a little easier. He was right. They didn’t have to follow anyone else’s definition of a relationship. They could make up their own. After all, there was nothing conventional about the two of them.
This wasn’t the world she belonged in. She knew that deep down in her bones, a conclusion she couldn’t ignore as much as she would love to spend every day for the rest of forever at his side. But she didn’t have to give him up quite yet. Soon, she would leave—but she’d be back. Just like Lyre, she didn’t have to say farewell forever, just for now.
She wound her arms around his neck and found his lips with hers. Heat ro
se through her, desire mixing with relief and the fire of her love. How much had they survived together? It felt like so long ago that she’d been sitting on the floor in her Consulate, staring at his bedroom door, wondering how to get her father’s ring box back from his dragonet. He’d opened the door to find her sitting there, so damn sexy while still intimidating. What had he thought of her? Had he seen a silly, overcompensating apprentice like everyone else? Somehow, she didn’t think so.
Should she have suspected it then, what he would come to mean to her? Should she have realized what was coming back in the Styx ring, when the explosive passion of that single kiss had blown her away? Or when she’d seen him in Asphodel for the first time, his body and soul beaten almost to the brink, pain and fury driving him to near madness? Should she have known then, when even at his worst he’d slid his mouth so gently over her neck, kissing the pulse in her throat when he could have ripped it out instead? Should she have guessed how deep her feelings for him would run when they’d stood together facing Samael and his army, and she’d turned the Sahar’s power over to him, knowing they might die for it?
When was the exact moment she’d realized she loved him with everything in her? When she’d thought he was dead, plunging off the cliff to the river below? Or even sooner, when he’d held her as she lay dying, breaking inside that he hadn’t saved her from her fall into the rapids?
So much pain between the two of them. So much suffering. But beneath it, passion and love, a fire and a strength that warmed them both, had kept them going when they’d had nothing left. Wasn’t that what Hinote had said? Love gave her the strength to fight on no matter what. It had been the strength that had defeated Natania and undone the Sahar.
Ash lifted his mouth from hers, brushing his lips over her cheek as he leaned back just enough to meet her eyes. She stroked her fingers over the scales that ran across the tops of his cheekbones. A lifetime ago—or so it seemed—his true form had terrified her. But now, it was just him. This was his real face and his glamour was the mask, the sheath over the shining blade of a sword.
Ash drew his feet up and stood, lifting her with him. He wrapped his arms around her and stretched his wings out, the cut Samael had inflicted on him healed so perfectly she couldn’t see the faintest mark.
Unleash the Storm (Steel & Stone Book 5) Page 41
