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Carved in Stone_Protectors of Magic_Book 2

Page 11

by Jenna Wolfhart


  “You are unbelievably beautiful, Rowena,” he said. “I thought you were gorgeous the moment I saw you, but now…you are so much more than that. You’re breathtaking. Sometimes when I look at you, it feels as though my lungs have shifted into stone.”

  Oh my goddess.

  I sighed and leaned against him, breathing in the scent of stone and mist. “I feel the same way.”

  He chuckled in my ear. “You also think you’re breathtaking? Good. I like it when a woman is self-confident.”

  Ah, there was the Marcus I knew.

  With a roll of my eyes, I pulled back and shot him a mock frown. “You know that’s not what I meant.”

  His smile faltered as he traced his finger along the curve of my skin, sending storms of goosebumps down my spine. He dragged his finger further down, slipping along my neck. My lips parted, and I shifted closer, barely daring to breathe. Marcus made me feel things I had never felt before. He’d been by my side since day one, and instead of pulling me back, he helped push me forward.

  “I very much want to kiss you right now,” he said as he cupped my cheek in his palm.

  Sighing, I closed my eyes. “Please.”

  And so he did. His lips were softer than I expected. They met mine with a sweet kind of carefulness, as if he was worried he might break me. But I didn’t want to be careful. I twisted in his arms and slid into his lap, my thighs wrapped around his waist.

  The moan that escaped his parted lips sent thrills of delicious pleasure down my spine.

  I pushed against him, parting my mouth to welcome his tongue. His kiss deepened, hungrier now, and I answered with a hunger of my own.

  His strong hands found my waist and he flipped me onto my back. I let out a cry of delight as he braced his arms on either side of me, his mouth now exploring the sensitive skin on my neck. I shuddered under his tongue, relishing in the way his touch sent shivers of pleasure through my body.

  And then his hand drifted lower and lower until he slid his fingers underneath my dress, so tantalizing close to the apex of my thighs. I sucked in a breath and froze, every cell in my body thrumming with wild need.

  Marcus paused, glancing up at me. “You sure you want to do this, love?”

  Swallowing hard, I nodded. “I never have.”

  The grin he shot me made my insides turn to buttery syrup. “Is that so?”

  He slid his hand higher, and I squirmed. When his fingers brushed against the wetness that coated my thighs, his eyes went dark and the groan that clawed up from his throat was animalistic and raw.

  And then he pushed his fingers inside me. Blood roared in my head, and my back arched involuntarily. He pulled out his fingers and pushed them inside me again, and a desperate need clouded my mind. I rocked against him in time with the rhythm of his hand, everything inside me clenching as my whole world was filled with the scent of stone and mist.

  My voice ripped from my throat as the pleasure overcame me, his fingers building a horrible delicious ache between my thighs. My hands slammed against the floor; my fingers dug into the dirt. And then my climax crashed over me, a ripple of small earthquakes that left me breathless and spent.

  Marcus wore a Cheshire-cat smile as he laid beside me on the floor. I was pretty sure my own expression was something akin to dazed.

  “Enjoy that?” he asked, tracing lazy circles along my skin.

  “You couldn’t tell?”

  He laughed. “I hope no one heard you screaming.”

  With a smile, I turned toward him, my eyes caught on his lips. “Your turn.”

  He groaned, but he merely shook his head. “Not now, love. You need some rest. And if you really get me started, you’ll be awake far into the morning.”

  I felt a tinge of disappointment and nodded. When he saw the look on my face, he wrapped his hand around the back of my neck and leaned close. His lips were only a whisper away from mine.

  “Trust me, Rowena. I want you more than you know. But I’d rather wait until the time is right.”

  By goddess, I hoped that was soon.

  Chapter 23

  When darkness fell, we were ready. The clouds were thick in the sky, sealing us underneath the cover of night. We approached the castle from behind, Marcus scaling the wall while I clung on to his back, his heavy wings flapping on either side of me.

  We reached the battlements within moments, and Marcus stilled. His face transformed into stone so that he could better see and hear what was going on below us while I used my own enhanced nighttime vision to scan the grounds.

  Chillingly, there was little to be seen. Far from us, on the opposite wall, I spotted two guards in the towers on either side of the front gates. Those wouldn’t be a problem. They were facing the opposite direction, and we’d be on the ground and in the shadows of the closest building far too quickly for them to catch a glimmer of movement out of the corner of their eyes.

  It would be the guards on the ground that would actually pose a problem. Trouble was, I didn’t spot any.

  Marcus found the same. He shifted his stone face back into flesh and whispered, “Sounds like no one is patrolling. You ready?”

  I took a deep breath and gave a nod.

  “Hold on tight.” He launched from the edge of the battlements, his wings spread wide on either side. And we fell, like phantoms in the night. When our feet hit the ground, Marcus whipped me around his arms and pulled me into the shadows, pressing us tight against the nearest wall. We waited there, silent and still. But despite the lack of noise—or because of it—my racing heartbeat wouldn’t still.

  “Coast is clear,” Marcus murmured and loosened his grip that held me tight to his chest. “You know where you’re going, yes?”

  I nodded and gave him a wobbly thumbs-up. Even though we’d gone over every inch of this plan, and even though I wanted nothing more than to see this through, I was scared out of my mind. This could go very wrong.

  We were back inside the web of the enemy, and there was no turning back now. I took a deep breath and pushed off the wall, squaring my shoulders in hope the stance would make me look far more confident than I felt.

  “Wait.” Marcus yanked me back toward him and cupped my face in his hands. His violet eyes flicked across my face before he pressed his lips fiercely against mine. When he pulled back, I’d forgotten about all the fear, about all the uncertainty. None of that mattered when he looked at me like that.

  “I don’t want to split up,” I said. Walking away from him felt like leaving behind a piece of myself.

  “Trust me, love. I don’t want to either.” He gave me another hungry kiss. “It’s only for a few minutes. Set the snare, and then come to me.”

  With a nod, I pulled myself away from him. Every step felt harder than the last. I glanced over my shoulder. Marcus stood in the shadows, staring after me. His face looked as conflicted as my heart felt. We’d had our chance to get away, to go back and protect the city and everyone within it.

  We could have run to safety. Together.

  But here we were.

  I ripped my gaze away from him. As much as I hated to part ways—even for a few moments—now was the time to focus on our plan. And my little part to play was an essential one.

  With silent steps, I wound through the darkened pathways of the castle ground. I passed building after building until I came to the hall where Marcus said the king was currently residing. My lips curled into a smile. As terrifying as it was to be here, this was going to be kind of fun.

  I pulled a heavy rock from my pocket, one that had been wrapped in half of dozen papers we’d torn from Marcus’s notebook. Next up, the match. I dragged it across the side of the matchbox, and the flame sparked to life. In an instant, the papers surrounding the rock were ablaze. And then I launched that rock through the hall’s window.

  Glass exploded all around me, a heavy crash that rippled through the quiet night. Then, I was off, pounding my arms by my side as I ran with all the energy I had. Buildings blurred by, my ey
es focused on the ground.

  From somewhere behind me, shouts and footsteps collided together. But still I ran. I ran and ran until I’d completed almost a full circle of the castle grounds, the hideout tower now in view before me. The wooden door hung open wide on its rusted hinges, eerily creepy in the night breeze. Marcus had made it inside then. Within moments, he’d be back with the blood mages. Or, at least, with some of them. We still had no idea how many were in hiding and what kind of shape they were in.

  The plan was to fly them out of here as quickly as possible while the fae were focused on the flaming rock.

  “I should have known this had something to do with you.” The voice was deep, melodic, and strangely flat.

  My heart flickered as I sucked in a deep breath. This was very much not part of the plan.

  Slowly, I spun on my feet to see Benjamin, my old fae guard, standing before me with his sword raised. I flicked my gaze to the weapon and let out a sigh of relief. It wasn’t the goddess sword. So, it couldn’t hurt me. At least not permanently.

  Still, I needed to appease him, just in case he decided to sound some kind of alarm. I held up my hands. “Look, let’s not do anything hasty.”

  Meanwhile, my fingers itched to grab the fae sword I had slung across my back.

  “Anything hasty?” He cocked an eyebrow and let out a strange noise that sounded more like a gurgle than a laugh. “You mean like throwing a flaming rock at the Unseelie Court’s king?”

  “Exactly.” I let out a mock exhale of relief. “I’m glad we understand each other.”

  He ground his teeth together and stepped closer, pointed the sword straight at my gut. “I know you’re immortal and that you can’t be killed, but I wonder what would happen if I sliced open your skin. Would I be able to see your organs, I wonder? If I snacked on them, would they grow back? Or would you have to spend the rest of your life without intestines?”

  “Seriously?” I wrinkled my nose. “That’s such a disgusting thing to say that it’s not even scary.”

  “You think I don’t mean it,” he continued, taking another step toward me. Now, the pointy end of the blade was so close that it brushed against my shirt. “You don’t think I would gut you like a pig.”

  “Oh, I think you mean it.” In a flash, the fae sword was in my hands. “But I’m also not going to give you the chance to fulfill your twisted little fantasy.”

  The fae’s smile widened as I bent my knees and held the blade before me like an extension of my own arm. His jagged teeth gleamed from the fire that now licked at the sky. “Oh, I’m going to enjoy this.”

  He lunged, but I danced away from his sword so that the end only sunk into shadows, not flesh and bone. As he made another turn toward me, I tightened my grip on the hilt but then loosened it in an instant. Jasper’s deep voice echoed in my head.

  Keep your grip loose. Make sure your stance is shoulder-width apart. Bend your knees and bounce on the balls of your feet.

  We’d practiced this. Over and over until I got it right.

  Because I had gotten it right. Eventually.

  And now I could put all that training into action.

  I bounced back when the fae attempted another blow to my chest. He grunted and fell back, narrowing his eyes as he took in my stance.

  “Are you going to fight or are you just going to stand there all night dodging my sword?”

  Just long enough to keep you distracted while Marcus gets the blood mages out of that tower.

  Though he should be popping out of that door any minute now, and the fae would see him exit unless I led him further away from the tower. If Marcus was right, these mages could be weak, injured, or worse.

  “Personally, I’m enjoying myself. Aren’t you?” I flashed him a smile and began to round the fae, flashing the blade in order to keep his attention firmly on me. Slowly, he twisted further left and then even further left. It was the only way he could keep me in his line of sight, his blade rippling with every step he took.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw movement at the door. Hauling a breath deep into my lungs, I twisted on my feet and sprinted across the courtyard. The fae soon followed, his heavy feet slamming hard against the ground.

  And then I stopped, turned, and held my blade high just as he swung his sword right at my neck. I ducked, dropping my knees to the ground before I sprung back up. I jumped sideways to dodge another blow, and then sideways again. But the fae was now so close that I could smell the musky scent of his power and the remnants of tequila on his breath.

  He grabbed my arm, and his sharp, pointed nails pierced my skin. I cried out from the pain as red filled my eyes. He slammed the blunt of his sword against my skull. For a moment, the world went dark. My head rang, again and again with the sound of the blade crashing against me. A boom that blocked out everything else.

  When the world finally blurred back in around me, I was on the ground. The fae had dropped to his knees. He leaned over me, his sword tight against my throat. Saliva dripped from his fangs as he let out a hiss of pure rage or hunger. Maybe both.

  “You are such a waste of flesh,” he growled. “What use is a demigoddess who is as weak as a mortal?”

  I sucked in a breath. His knee was tight against my stomach, blocking my air. And as I scrabbled at the ground, I found that my fingers still curled around the hilt of the sword.

  “That’s where you’re wrong.” It hurt to speak, and my vision went dark in the corners. “And you’re going to regret underestimating me.”

  I swung the sword toward his skull. The blade sunk into his flesh. He roared and dropped away, clawing at his face. I scrabbled back, eyes wide as I watched him writhe on the ground. His scream shook me to my very core.

  I was still weak and dizzy from where he’d knocked me senseless with his sword, but there was no time to catch my breath. No time to recover. He wouldn’t die from this.

  Gritting my teeth, I forced my body upright and stumbled toward the tower I could only blearily see up ahead of me. But there was someone there, facing in my direction. My heart lurched as I squinted my eyes. Another fae? Another guard who was aching for a fight?

  But then a pair of ebony wings stretched out from the figure’s form, and relief shook me so hard I fell to my knees. It was Marcus. He was here. And then the darkness took me, my face slamming onto the hard ground.

  Chapter 24

  A moonlit sky. A dark alley drenched in shadows. I sucked in a deep breath and stilled when a roar full of agony chased away the silence of the night. The roar was met with the chime of a distant clock tower.

  One clang, two clangs, three.

  I looked up at the silver crescent moon that peeked out from behind thin gauzy clouds that looked like nothing more than mist.

  Another roar shook the very ground where I stood.

  Heart trembling in my chest, I eased to the end of the street and poked my head around the corner. My eyes landed on a hunched form that stood in the middle of the alley. A form half made of flesh and half made of stone.

  He screamed, his back arching as his entire body rippled and shook, the ground underneath my feet echoing the motion like the aftershocks that followed an earthquake. The gargoyle stretched his stone hand toward the sky, as if he were reaching for the moon, as if he could touch the very stars that glittered in the dark sky.

  And then he stopped. No more movement. No rippling or shaking or roaring at the sky. A profound sadness filled my soul, and a tear slipped down my cheek. I knew deep down in my bones that this gargoyle had become permanent stone.

  * * *

  I awoke in his arms, panting. Tree branches snaked overhead, forming sharp claws against the night sky. The nightmare still echoed in my mind, and I swore under my breath. It was the second time I’d had it. Did that mean it wasn’t a nightmare at all?

  Marcus leaned over me, eyes dark and hollow. When he saw me wake, he let out the longest sigh of relief I’d ever heard.

  “Rowena.” He spoke the wor
d in a shuddering breath, as if he hadn’t exhaled in years. “Are you okay? What happened to you?”

  “I got in a fight with a fae,” I said, remembering the clang of steel against my ears. My head ached, and my mouth felt dry, but the dizziness that had tipped me sideways no longer filled my eyes. “I know it kinda looks like I lost, but I actually won. Thank the goddess that fae sword is light enough for me to handle.”

  The tension in his face vanished, replaced by a dimpled smirk that reached his silver-flecked eyes. “Of course you did, love. I never doubted you for a second.”

  My heart warmed.

  “Where are we?” I asked. “What happened to the mages?”

  “We’re camped out in a forest near the castle.” He frowned and dropped his voice to a whisper. “I only found five of them. It turns out a fae followed them when they fled, and they got into a fight in the tunnels. The magic they were hurling around made it collapse, so they’ve been trapped, just like I thought.”

  He flicked his eyes behind him before turning back to me, lowering his voice even more. “They’re in bad shape. They haven’t eaten, so not only are their bodies weak but so are their powers. One of them is badly wounded to the point where I think the flight back home would kill her. And the others refuse to leave her behind.”

  Shit. I frowned and sat up, glancing behind Marcus at the group of blood mages curving toward a small fire. Their faces were pale and gaunt, their bright red lips popping against the lack of color on their skin. Hair stringy, clothing dirty and ripped, they looked as though they’d spent the past year crawling in the muck.

  Only four huddled by the fire. One had been lowered to the ground, and she lay stick straight from head to toe. Her eyes were shut; her breathing was shallow. If I didn’t know she was alive, I’d think she was dead.

 

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