Undying (Valos of Sonhadra Book 7)
Page 17
“Then once we gather some food, you can mount me however and wherever you please.”
“Then let us go on this date.” Without warning, he lifted her off her feet and over his shoulder.
Quinn laughed. “Orishok! I can walk!”
Wrapping an arm around the backs of her thighs, he placed a hand on her ass. “The faster I get us there, the sooner you will not be able to.”
Quinn’s jaw dropped. Heat rushed to her core. “Did you just... I am so going to hold you to that promise.”
He carried her out of the house and reluctantly set her down, but not before giving her a heated look that said he meant to fulfill his word, and then some.
When he turned down a side street, Quinn stopped, tugging on his arm. She knew he was trying to avoid the square. He stared at her, seemingly ready to argue. After a long silence, he frowned and waved her into the lead.
She hadn’t been sure what she would find in the square. Bodies, maybe? There were none, but blood had darkened the stone in several places, especially around the pedestal. Her heart sank as she approached her sculpture. The clay boots were still in place, but the columns of stone had fallen over; she lifted the blanket to reveal the misshapen legs beneath.
Orishok crouched across from her and took hold of the legs, lifted one in each arm like they weighed nothing, and returned them to their positions.
“Thank you.”
“I am sorry, Quinn.”
She picked up the blanket and draped it back over them. “I’ll fix them.” Stepping back, she glanced around the square. “Where are the bodies?”
“Gone.”
“Don’t want to tell me?”
“I threw them off the edge of the city. They are food for the beasts, now.”
“There might be more of them to come.”
“Do you wish to return to them?” The curiosity in his voice was laced with faint sorrow.
His question struck like a blow, and Quinn flinched. “No. Why would I? You are my tribe, Orishok, and I am yours.”
He smiled, reaching forward to brush his fingers over her hair. “Until Sonhadra claims me, and beyond.”
She snorted. “Sonhadra won’t take me, so it can’t have you either.”
Quinn’s eyes drifted to the broken monument, to the place where she’d died. Her brows fell as she moved closer to the spot. On the ground, between cracks in the stone that had been painted by her blood, were small, bright green sprouts.
“Orishok, look!”
He walked up beside her, stopping to stare down at the little plants. The tallest was only three or four inches, but they hadn’t been there when she fell. They’d grown overnight.
“There has not been a living plant in Bahmet since fourteen winters after Kelsharn left,” Orishok said. He knelt, keeping his distance, and reached out with a tentative hand. Its forward motion stopped abruptly, and he curled his fingers and pulled back. “You have truly brought life back to this city, heart of my heart.”
Her heart ached that he couldn’t touch the small miracle for fear he’d kill it.
Not far from the pedestal, she found the bowl that had held the last of her foraged food and picked it up. A few feet away was the gun. She tucked it into the cloth wrapped around her waist. “Let’s go, Orishok. We have a date.”
They made their way through the city, each taking a spear. She could only pray they didn’t run into another rockfur.
Quinn took the lead as they entered the forest, following the path of dead grass. Orishok carried her spear and kept watch as she picked berries and roots and dropped them into the bowl. They eventually moved to the stream and followed it, searching for more riverfruit. Orishok walked in front here; he’d told her once that treeclaws often lurked in the sturdy overhead branches, using the dangling fruit as bait for prey.
Once the bowl was full, Orishok knocked down two more pieces of fruit with his spear, and Quinn devoured them, enjoying the gentle rustling of leaves, the soft babbling of the water, and the cool breeze on her skin.
When she was done, she laughed, holding her hands up. Bits of grass and leaves clung to them. “Guess I should wash up.”
Orishok nodded. “I will keep watch.”
Standing, Quinn flicked the dress straps off her shoulders, letting the front sag. “You mean, you’re not going to join me?” She shimmied her hips, letting the gown pool at her feet. “I clearly recall someone saying they wanted to have me under the open sky, surrounded by the smell of earth and leaf.”
His eyes brightened and trailed over her slowly, sensually, before he met her gaze. Without looking away, he jabbed the butts of the spears into the ground and stalked toward her. He buried a hand in her hair, tilted her head back, and kissed her.
“Still sweeter than riverfruit,” he said against her lips.
Quinn wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer. “Kiss me again.”
They made love beneath the sapphire blue sky, with the leaves and grass shimmering emerald and violet around them in the wind. His hands caressed her body as she rode him to bliss. She’d never felt so happy, so free. When they climaxed, stars burst behind her eyelids, and the whole universe spiraled around her. Orishok’s roar reverberated in her soul and filled her heart; for that instant, they were both part of something larger, were both part of Sonhadra.
Panting hard, she fell upon Orishok’s glowing chest and smiled. She lay her cheek over his heartstone and watched her fingers as she brushed them over his bicep, marveling at the contrast between his slate gray skin and the fine, green blades of grass cradling it.
She sucked in a breath. Green?
Quinn pushed herself up, looking at the ground around them.
“What is wrong, Quinn?”
“The grass is green.”
“Is that not its usual color?”
Quinn shook her head and laughed, reaching over his shoulder. She tore a handful of grass free and sprinkled the blades over his chest. “It’s all green.”
Orishok lifted his head and stared at the grass on his chest. It hadn’t withered. His hand trembled as he gingerly plucked a single blade and held it closer to his face. He placed his free hand on the small of Quinn’s back, steadying her as he sat up and glanced from side to side.
The vegetation around them was alive and vibrant. They were well beyond the path of shriveled, dead grass.
She watched as he reached to the side. He splayed his fingers and lightly ran them over the top of the grass, his eyes wide. It brushed over his skin and nothing changed.
“Do you think...it’s my blood?” she asked, amazed.
He pressed his hand down. His eyes flared for an instant, and the grass beneath his hand — only the grass beneath his hand — turned brown and dried up.
“You are life.” He looked into her eyes. “When you joined me, you granted me a bit of it. It is like...when I was first made. We had control of it, then. While Kelsharn allowed it. What you have given to me...” Orishok cupped her cheek, the tips of his fingers slipping into her hairline. “Heart of my heart, I cannot repay it.”
Tears stung her eyes. She slid her hands up and over his shoulders. “All I want is you, Orishok.” She leaned forward, rocking against him, feeling his still hard length press deeper. His eyes flared. “But if you insist on payment...I’m pretty sure I can still walk.”
He grinned, flashing his sharp teeth.
Quinn let out a delighted cry as he swept her onto her back and thrust his hips forward.
“I insist, my queen, my mate. My Quinn.”
Photo Art by Naomi Lucas 2017
VALOS OF SONHADRA COLLABORATION
Amanda Milo - Alluvial (Valos of Sonhadra #1)
Poppy Rhys - Tempest (Valos of Sonhadra #2)
Nancey Cummings - Blazing (Valos of Sonhadra #3)
Ripley Proserpina - Whirlwind (Valos of Sonhadra #4)
Naomi Lucas - Radiant (Valos of Sonhadra #5)
Isabel Wroth - Shadowed (Valos of Sonhadra
#6)
Tiffany Roberts - Undying (Valos of Sonhadra #7)
Marina Simcoe - Enduring (Valos of Sonhadra #8)
Regine Abel - Unfrozen (Valos of Sonhadra #9)
Titles by Tiffany Roberts
THE KRAKEN
Treasure of the Abyss
Jewel of the Sea (Spring 2018)
ISLE OF THE FORGOTTEN
Make Me Burn
Make Me Hunger
Make Me Whole
Make Me Yours
Make Me Surrender (TBD)
OTHER TITLES
Dustwalker
Ice Bound: Short Story
About the Authors
Tiffany Roberts is the pseudonym for Tiffany and Robert Freund, a husband-and-wife writing duo. While Tiffany was born and bred in Idaho, Robert was a New York native who made the decision to fly across the county to be with her. Tiffany and Robert have always had a passion for reading and writing, and it was the dream to write books that they both shared that brought them closer. While they never gave up on this dream, work and kids came first until they were able to focus on moving their writing career along.
Connect with us:
Website:
https://authortiffanyroberts.wordpress.com
Facebook:
https://www.facebook.com/AuthorTiffanyRoberts
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