She slipped her phone from her pocket and sighed when she saw she had left it on. Only ten percent battery left. “Guess this isn’t going to last very long.”
Myleesa leaned over, her eyes bright. “What’s that?”
Sylvia explained, then removed the battery and glared at it. “It doesn’t have much juice left, though.”
“Maybe you should soak it in the river. That would help it be juicy again.” Avas crawled over Hendric’s lap to snuggled next to Sylvia.
Myleesa took the battery as Sylvia laughed.
“It’s not literally juice,” Sylvia explained. “I just meant it doesn’t have much power left. It’s running out of—”
“Energy.” Myleesa peered at the battery, holding it at eye level. “I can feel the energy in this. I don’t quite get it, but I can feel it. Like a lightning storm, only contained. Actually, maybe I can...”
She cupped the battery in both hands and murmured a spell. Static electricity crackled in the air, making the hair on Sylvia’s arms stand on end. A greenish-blue light surrounded Myleesa, pulsing around her like a system of veins. Beads of light started to throb in this system. They flowed toward the battery and slipped through its casing.
After a minute, the light disappeared and Myleesa sat back, wiping her forehead. “Try that.”
Sylvia plugged the battery back into the phone and turned it on. Her eyes widened when she saw that it was now eighty-nine percent full. She leapt to her feet, letting out a shout of excitement. “It worked!”
“It did?” Hendric quickly joined her. “We haven’t been able to make technology work here. The magic interferes… or so we thought. This is huge. As soon as we get back to the palace, you’ll have to tell our mages about this. You may have just revolutionized our technology, Sylvia.”
She grinned back at him. For a second, she nearly threw herself at him for a kiss. The magic in her wedding band crackled and she looked away, flushing. They might be married, but it wasn’t a real marriage. She couldn’t let herself get carried away here. He’d married her to protect her. That was all there was to it and she wasn’t going to break her heart on someone who didn’t feel that way for her.
But damn, was it hard.
Chapter Eight
Hendric
Sylvia soon overcame her nerves by trying out new magic and eagerly accepted everything that Myleesa could tell her. When they started to try out simple spells, Sylvia’s always went too powerful, but that only seemed to excite them more. He chuckled under his breath as he watched them… or rather, watched Sylvia.
The look in her eyes as she made a small flame in her hand filled him with warmth. It surprised him; it had been a long time since he’d felt this way. Her dress, with its short skirt that barely went to her knees, with the tight leggings beneath, suited her curvy frame so well he couldn’t help but daydream about putting her against a tree, lifting that skirt out of the way and seeing if her leggings were sewn together like pants in the other world, or if they were open at the crotch as was common here—it made using the toilet much easier.
When it started to get dark and Warmund hadn’t returned, though, Hendric had to put aside his desires for Sylvia. “I want the three of you to stay here. I’m going to find Warmund.”
Avas nodded seriously. “I won’t let you down, Papa.”
Hendric cupped Avas’s face and smiled at him to let his son know that he knew. Then he headed off in search of the prodigal prince.
He found Warmund several miles away, crouched beside a fire, a bedroll laid out beside it. He had twin daggers in his hand and a dead rabbit lying at his feet as he eyed Hendric warily. Hendric stopped a non-threatening distance away and glared at him.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Hendric demanded.
“Making dinner.”
Hendric snorted. “If you’re trying to protect us by leaving us and leading the assassins away, it won’t work. They know that Sylvia, Avas and I were traveling with you and—”
“Who said I was protecting anybody?” Warmund sheathed his daggers. “I can make it on my own. I am not going to drown in your pity.”
“My pity?”
Warmund glared at him, and he crouched beside the rabbit. “I know that my father didn’t send you after me. He doesn’t give a damn about me. If he did, he never would have exiled me in the first place. No, he wanted to have me killed without bringing the anger of the kingdom down on him for it.”
Hendric didn’t think he had ever met someone as blind as the prince. He bit back a few choice words as he crouched next to him. “He exiled you because you rebelled against him. You think that the kingdom would hate him for it? You weren’t that loved, Warmund, and there are plenty of people still grumbling that he ought to have killed you for your rebellion.”
A snort and a puff of smoke answered him.
“If your father didn’t love you as much as he did, you would have been executed. If he didn’t love you, he wouldn’t have sent me here to bring you back. He loves you. He wants you back home. He wants you to meet your little brother… and your sister.”
Warmund flinched. His breathing became ragged as he turned his face away. “So, it’s true that he found her then? But that he won’t tell her the truth of who she is?”
“Yes, he found her.” Hendric sighed. With Sylvia and Avas out there in the forest, unprotected except for a low-level mage and untamed magic, he didn’t want to get distracted by this. But if it was what it took to get Warmund to come back… “Wildref is a grown woman now. Older in equivalence to you, even. She has parents, friends and a life of her own. It would be cruel to take that from her.”
“It wouldn’t be taking anything. Only giving her back the family that was already taken from her. Or do you think that because she has parents in that world, it means I am no longer her brother?” Warmund’s voice became a growl, flame starting to flicker between his teeth. “How can you say that my father wants me to get to know her without telling her that he’s her father?”
Hendric sighed. “Perhaps now that dragons have been revealed in that world, he’ll change his mind. But even without her knowing her history, you can still talk to her, learn about who she is and what sort of life she has.”
Warmund snorted and looked away again. The flames died, though, and Hendric could see that he was thinking about it. He understood what the prince was thinking. After everything that had happened in his life, of course, he’d wanted to get his little sister back. The problem was, did Wildref—Katrina, as she had grown up being called—want to know about her past? She had a father and brother who loved her dearly, but she also had adoptive parents who loved her. It would be a terrible choice to make, for anybody.
“We need to get back to camp.” Hendric stood and offered his hand to Warmund. “Come home, Warmund. Come home to your father.”
Warmund stared at the rabbit for a moment before he stood. His muscles were tense and his shoulders stiff as he glared at Hendric. “I know the only reason you want me around is because the assassins know we had traveled together, and they’ll still be after you.”
Arguing wasn’t going to change his mind, so Hendric remained quiet.
“Well… I don’t like the idea of a woman and a child being murdered.” Warmund tied the rabbit to his belt and poured his water over the fire, putting it out. “I’ll help you protect them until we’re back in Byrelmore and you can get back to the palace safely. But I’m not going back there. I’m better off on my own.”
Hopefully, by then he wouldn't be quite so suspicious. When Hendric looked into Warmund’s eyes, he saw hope battling with betrayal and uncertainty. He wanted to believe that Indulf had sent for him but didn’t want to be hurt for believing. Hendric understood. As much as he’d have liked to show Warmund the love a father has for his son, to prove to him that Indulf wanted him back and would deal with the consequences, this was going to be something that Warmund would have to see for himself.
Neither of
them spoke as they made their way back to camp. Hendric wanted to run all the way there. Now that Warmund had agreed to return and that crisis was over, the nerves of what might be happening when he wasn’t there rushed back. What if the assassins found them? Just the thought made his fires burn hotter.
“Tonight, moon or not, we fly out of the forest,” he said, a growl in his throat. “If we can get to Byrelmore—”
“It’s too risky,” Warmund interrupted. “With this forest, they’ll be able to attack us from below and we won’t be able to see them. No. We have to wait for a dark night if we are going to try to fly out of here.”
He was right, even if Hendric didn’t want to admit it. They still weren’t certain how many people were after them, or why they wanted Warmund dead so badly.
Soon enough, they were back at the camp. To his surprise, those he had left there weren’t huddled around the fire, watching the shadows and worrying about what might happen. Instead, Myleesa and Avas were sitting on a fallen log, cheering and clapping as Sylvia stood some distance away. Her face was pinched with concentration, and her feet were spread apart, rooted firmly to the earth. She punched out her hand, and a rock the size of his head flew from the earth and crashed into a tree.
“What is going on here?” Hendric asked, jogging over.
Sylvia fell out of her stance. Her well-endowed chest heaved as she panted, while sweat trickled down her face. She grinned at him, though, and fairly danced over.
“I’m an Earth Bender,” she announced, throwing herself into his arms. Her glasses were so covered in dirt, it was a wonder she could see anything.
Hendric, his mood lightened to see the flush of success in her face, laughed. “What are you talking about?”
“We got bored so we started watching Avatar: The Last Airbender on my phone,” Sylvia told him excitedly. “And as I was watching, I thought, why not? So I copied some of their moves and it works! I don’t understand the magic system here, but Anna and I have geeked out over Avatar enough that I understand that system. And it works!”
Hendric grinned. It didn’t matter that he wasn’t entirely certain what she was talking about, the fact that it had her so excited was good enough for him. “I see. So, you’re creating a new brand of magic, are you?”
“No, I didn’t create it. Just bringing it to life. Watch this!”
Sylvia pulled away from him and punched out a fist, producing a weak ball of flame. Dropping to her knees, she then rolled to her back and spun with her legs in the air. A breeze ruffled his hair. When she jumped back to her feet, she made a waving motion over the pot of water. A stream rose up from it to drop into the fire.
“I’m the Avatar,” she crowed. “Master of all four elements!”
Warmund grunted and plopped down beside the fire. “Master. Right.”
Hendric gave him an annoyed look before beaming back at Sylvia. His smile widened, taking in the pleased sparkle of her eyes and the confident way she held herself. His lips tingled with the desire to capture hers and so he caught her around the waist and pulled her against him. Sylvia let out a small sound of surprise, then melted into his embrace. Her eyes started to drift shut as she threw her arms around his neck.
He teased her mouth open, thrusting his tongue into her to taste her. Heat burned under his skin, his fires rising up to flow through his veins.
“Stop,” Warmund complained.
Hendric pulled away, remembering himself and where they were. Sylvia stared at him, her eyes wide and cheeks flushed. He swallowed hard, his lips burning with desire now as they continued to tingle. His pants felt too tight and he realized he was pressed against Sylvia. He stepped back, averting his gaze, as he coughed slightly.
Myleesa’s eyes were wide, one hand over her mouth and the other over Avas’s eyes. Avas was perfectly content to sit where he was, giggling to himself. Hendric’s chest tightened. No. No, he couldn’t do this. He couldn’t let his son think there was something between him and Sylvia when there wasn’t. He couldn't let Sylvia think that, either.
But when he looked back at her, the words died in his throat. Not because she was acting like a starry-eyed dreamed—quite the opposite, in fact. Because she looked as horrified as he did.
At that moment, he knew. Everything had just changed.
Chapter Nine
Sylvia
Everything seemed to be going right for once.
Sylvia sighed happily as she and Hendric walked through an open-air market in a small town on the outskirts of the forest. It had taken some discussion for Hendric to finally agree to this, but it had been almost a week since they had had any encounters with people wanting to hurt them. Being in the forest all that time had made them all a little tired, hungry and cranky. Now she and Hendric were here to pick up some food—meat, vegetables, perhaps some sweets—and take it back out to the others.
Her magic skills had improved greatly over the past week, too. Sylvia still had a hard time believing it. She had met Myleesa, the person she came here looking for and was a mage. It was overwhelming if she was honest about it. At times, she was certain that she was dreaming. Using “bending” as her focus, though, she had managed to stabilize her magic enough that now Myleesa was teaching her some basic oral spells, and she wasn’t accidentally blowing up logs.
The smell of spicy roasted meat curled into her nostrils and Sylvia turned to the scent. They’d been eating wild game, berries and roots foraged from the forest, but it was all fairly bland. The promise of actual spice made her mouth water.
“Maybe we should get some salt,” she suggested to Hendric. “For when we’re traveling again. It’s not the most exotic spice, but I’m getting some real salt cravings.”
Hendric glanced around and gestured to one vendor. “They should have some.”’
The two of them hurried to the vendor. They were selling little bags of salt, indeed. Sylvia didn’t have a reference point for how much things cost, but after fifteen minutes of haggling, Hendric passed over one gold coin and they headed on their way again with a bag of salt tucked into Hendric’s pocket. While he had used all his money to buy her and Avas from the slavers, Warmund had produced a small pouch of money.
Given that the assassins were after him, though, and his face was more noticeable, they had decided that he would stay at camp with Myleesa and Avas while Hendric and Sylvia went to town.
Sylvia looped her arm through Hendric’s, leaning against him as they walked. True, she still had nerves that made her jump at sudden noises, but if she didn’t let herself think too hard, then she wasn’t scared to be out here. Not with Hendric. He had a sword strapped to his hip and several hidden daggers on his person. If they were attacked, she was confident that he’d be able to fight their way out of danger. Besides, it might even give her an opportunity to use her newfound abilities.
She jerked in surprise as Hendric suddenly grunted and pulled her into an alley between two stone buildings. He pressed her against the wall, his dark eyes fathomless. A slow grin passed over his face as he cupped her face with one of his huge hands and traced over her lower lip with his thumb.
Instantly, memories of their kissing in the woods flooded her. Her breathing hitched as heat tightened her core. Hendric growled softly as one hand gripped her hip.
“You’re driving me crazy,” he whispered, and then his mouth was on hers.
Sylvia wrapped her hands into his shirt, letting out soft sighs as they kissed. Hendric’s tongue flicked over her lips and she parted them for him. He ground lightly against her, pressing her into the stone wall. Her eyes fluttered shut as everything around her faded away until it was just her and Hendric and nothing else.
One of Hendric’s hands lifted her leg over his hip and started to inch its way up her skirt. The other cupped her breast. A shiver ran down Sylvia’s spine, and she let out a soft moan, wishing she didn’t have to stop it. The sounds of the market seemed especially loud now, though, and as her core tightened, she could almost feel t
he magic in her wedding rings burning hotter, closer to that inseparable bond.
She pressed her hands to Hendric’s chest and gently separated the two of them, even as she sighed in disappointment at that separation being necessary.
“I don’t think I’m ready for this to go from zero to home run just yet.”
Hendric’s brow furrowed. “What?”
Sylvia shook her head. Of course, he wouldn’t understand her references. “We’re out in the open. This should happen in a more private setting… when both of us are certain that we want to.”
A flash of disappointment showed on Hendric’s face, but he nodded and stepped back. He gave her a small smile as he nodded again. “Of course. I’m sorry that I—”
“You don’t need to apologize. Let’s just keep the hands away from… intimate places, yeah?” She wrapped her arms around his neck. “The kissing was nice, though.”
Hendric’s brow rose. A grin crossed his face, and he delved into her neck, making Sylvia sigh as she curled her fingers in his hair. Her skin tightened, and heat swirled in her core. The magic between them tightened and she could feel Hendric’s heart beating in his chest. Maybe she wasn’t ready to go all the way here, where anybody could see them… but she knew it wasn’t going to be long before she was ready… if they could find a comfortable, private place… and if the assassins would leave them alone that long…
***
When they had gotten everything they were going to get and were headed back to the forest, Sylvia noticed four men following them. She’d noticed them in the market but had tried to tell herself that it was just a coincidence. Now that they were on their way to the forest and the men were still following, though, a cold shudder ran down her spine.
Hendric caught her arm and pulled it through his. “Just stay calm.”
“There are—”
“I know. When we get to the forest, I need you to run while I deal with them. You remember which way camp was?”
Sylvia thought hard for a moment before she shook her head. She’d always been terrible with directions, and all the trees looked the same to her. Hendric sighed but not in a way that made her feel incompetent.
The Dragon Beast's Virgin: A Paranormal Romance (Separated by Time Book 3) Page 5
