His lips hovered for a brief moment over my own, his eyes asking silently for permission.
I wanted to scream at the injustice of it all. At the necessity for my Thisavros to hesitate to kiss me. Such a simple thing, and yet it carried so much weight.
Would she or wouldn’t she?
My heart broke.
Anger surfaced.
That I could use.
I reached up and wrapped a hand around the nape of Theo’s neck and hauled him down the last few centimetres to meet me.
A whoosh of air escaped him. A moan quickly followed. Heat burned, absent of our Pyrkagia, but fuelled with a passion that could never be silenced.
I kissed him with as much enthusiasm as he kissed me.
And I felt it. True love. Eternal desire. My body thrummed as our tongues tangled, Theo’s arms wrapping around my frame, hauling me against a firm chest and hard thighs, and the protrusion of a very impressive erection. He didn’t hide it. I’d kissed him first. I’d opened up and let him in, and for a second I couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t decide if this was a mistake, if I was going to hurt him, and the shadows lurked, and the hollowness beckoned in a way that tantalised, and then one of Theo’s hands swept down over my back, and then my butt, and finally reached my thigh.
He lifted me up, spun us toward the wall, wrapped my legs around his hips and then backed me onto the deep windowsill. The coldness of the air outside our room penetrated, adding contrast to the heat that flowed from Theo’s body into mine. I arched against him, the glass rattling as my head fell back, his teeth scraping down my exposed neck, laying a trail to between my breasts.
“Theo,” I gasped, as he lowered the dress far enough to expose a nipple.
“Sometimes words aren’t enough,” he rasped, wrapping his lips around the tip and sucking hard.
Warmth flared through me, banishing the cold of the window and the ice of the dark sea that seemed to live inside me. I luxuriated in the sensation. I basked in the glow of Theo’s love. I embraced the moment, uncaring if it would last.
Too much had happened. Too much in the past few months that I’d hardly had time to draw a breath. Right now, right in this instant, I’d take a moment. A brief interlude to pretend all was right. All was OK. All was not broken.
All was as it should be.
I ran my fingers greedily through Theo’s dark head of hair. His hands sought to entice as much as his lips and teeth and tongue were working to excite me. I stared down at him, marvelling that this man was indeed mine. That despite my failings he was still here, still with me, still very much present in my life.
Aetheros might have landed me in the fire, but Theo was more than capable of not getting burned. To him, I was his Thisavros. I was his Cassandra. His Oraia. Simply his. It didn’t matter that I was Aether. It didn’t matter that only three Stoicheio had Awakened and I was incomplete.
To Theo, I would never be broken. Never.
To Theo, I was perfection as is.
A tear streaked down my cheek, and then another and another, and somehow he knew. Somehow, even with his head bowed and his lips busy, he knew I was crying. He looked up, cupped a palm over my swollen nipple, squeezed my breast with one hand, held on tight to my hip with the other, and then pressed his lips to mine.
He didn’t ask this time. He took. And he gave. And he banished the tears as my body came alive, more alive than it had been in days.
“You need this,” he said. Not he needed this. But I did.
I nodded my head. I did need this. But so did Theo. I might be broken. I might have a dark empty pit inside me threatening to open. But I would do anything to reassure Theo.
Maybe that was the answer. I’d always known that I needed Theo with me; not to feel whole, but because he complemented me. He made me remember who I was. He gave me the tools I needed to forget who I was becoming. He allowed me to be me in his arms, at his side, with him inside me.
When he touched me, the switch stayed “on”.
Maybe I could fight this, whatever this darkness inside was. Maybe I could fight it with Theo. Putting Theo first. When he stroked me like he was stroking me now, I could see the answers.
When we pulled apart, I wasn’t so sure.
“Don’t think,” he murmured against my lips. “Just breathe.”
A sob escaped. His hand found my bare thigh and shifted higher.
“Stay with me, Oraia,” he pleaded. I nodded my head, blinking back the tears again.
Would this rollercoaster ever stop?
I wanted off.
I wanted Theo.
“Theo,” I begged.
“You have me,” he promised, as if I’d spoken my desires aloud.
But we didn’t need words. We just needed each other.
Theo’s trousers came undone. My skirt was pushed up around my waist. Our lips touched, our tongues danced, our breaths mingled in a cloud of steamy air that rivalled the condensation forming on the window.
And with one frantic movement, Theo seated himself inside.
“Casey!” he cried out. I simply gasped and then moaned and then started moving. “Oh, Oraia,” he rasped, joining my movements, matching me thrust for thrust.
He felt so good, so right, so perfect. I arched back, gave myself over to the moment, let my head fall against the glass. The rattle of the window an accompaniment to our gasps and moans and Theo’s little grunts of air as he rolled his hips and thrust inside me again and again and again.
“I need…” he started, and without thought I tilted my head to the side, exposing more of my neck, lengthening the line, offering pale skin under moonlight.
“Fuck,” he might have said, but it was hard to say. So much noise around us, but it wasn’t loud or distracting, or even inappropriate. It was warm and inviting and invigorating. “Casey,” he moaned. I gasped as his arousal hit me in exactly the right spot. And then again. And again.
Until I was panting and slick with sweat and cresting a wave that seemed to be so very high.
“Thisavros,” Theo growled at exactly the moment my climax hit. His face lowered, his teeth flashed in the dim light, and then he fastened onto my shoulder with a full body shudder of delight.
All air left me. In that singular moment, when my Thisavros claimed me again, I felt right. More than right, I felt complete. Whole.
Not broken.
Theo released me, threw back his head, arched his magnificent back, and roared his release to the stars outside.
The ground shook. The window rattled. Silence descended.
But it wasn’t empty. It was filled with our harsh breaths, and rapid heartbeats, and a soft laugh that I realised was me and not him and totally inappropriate.
Or not. Because Theo pulled back, sated, content, pure masculine pride showing on his features, and smiled. Then chuckled. Then moved his face forward, kissed me deeply, and pulled back again to rest his forehead against mine.
“Thisavros,” he whispered. “Always.”
No matter what.
“I love you,” I blurted. Theo’s hands came up and cupped my face.
“I know,” he said simply. “I know. I know.”
And like his directive to “just breathe” I felt his repeated words were a message.
I might be broken, facing off against impossible odds, in a world completely out of balance…
But Theo Peters would always love me. And I would always love him.
No matter what.
He kissed me softly for a time, and then slowly pulled himself out. Bending down, he straightened my skirt carefully, a small curve to his lips as he adjusted the collar of my outfit.
“We’ve got time for another shower,” he murmured, a little wickedly.
I nodded, and let him take my hand, leading me toward the bathroom.
And as I glanced back at the window and saw the shape of my body outlined in fine condensation on the glass, a darkness beyond the light of the room blossomed.
&nb
sp; And matched the one threatening to unfurl again inside my heart.
Chapter Ten
Aether Puts On Quite A Show
Hip came just as we were putting the finishing touches on getting dressed. Theo had made love to me again in the shower; slowly, languidly, deliciously. As if he’d wanted to imprint his love on every inch of my body and heart. As if he’d known that I was retreating again, disappearing into a dark abyss.
He didn’t speak. He didn’t say a word. He just loved me; lavishly, completely. Under the hot spray of the shower, the world outside forgotten for that moment. Modern plumbing and intact walls and my Thisavros’ hands and body worshipping mine.
For a moment Genesis hadn’t existed in our small shower stall.
For a very brief moment, I hadn’t been broken.
But as Hip knocked on our bedroom door and Theo pulled away from me to greet him, the world closed in, in all its brutal decimated glory, and stole blissful peace along with it.
“Prince of Pyrkagia,” Hip intoned with a formal bow.
“I should knock you out right here,” Theo growled in return. “Is this how you treat all your Aeras?”
“It is how we treat unknown threats,” Hip shot back. “Is it not the same in Pyrkagia? Act first, ask questions later?”
Hip was right of course. The Pyrkagia Rigas had behaved exactly the same way when Theo and I had returned to Auckland.
“You asked her to come back here, to let you know when Aeras Awakened. Casey is not an unknown threat,” Theo tried.
“Even you, exiled as you are, do not believe that.” Hip looked past Theo as if the conversation had ended already. I watched as Theo clenched his fists, reining in his temper, stepping back lest he punch Hip right then and there.
“Aether,” Hip said simply. “Are you well?”
I wasn’t sure if Hip’s question was simply rote, or he did indeed care for my wellbeing. I couldn’t work him out. Much like all Athanatos. To me, they were still so very foreign. Sometimes I forgot Theo was an Ekmetalleftis. Sometimes he was just a man I loved.
But it was at times like this that I remembered; not all Athanatos were as trustworthy as my Thisavros.
“Will the King see me?” I asked, instead of wasting time answering questions that may or may not have been asked just because.
Hip blinked but didn’t otherwise show a reaction. He simply shook his head, and said, “Grandfather is keen to break bread.”
So, the shaman hadn’t given up on saving the world. It was a small consolation, but I’d take anything right now. We needed the Aeras on side, and if the shaman was, then our chances were that much better.
“Then let’s not keep him waiting,” I suggested.
Hip nodded, clapping his hands in an imitation of his former excitable self, and held the door open for us to precede him. He didn’t look Theo in the eyes, but I wasn’t sure if that was guilt, self-preservation, or something else.
Theo took my arm and led me out of the room, turning in the direction of the shaman’s apartments. It had been several months since we’d both been here in Machu Picchu, but neither Theo nor myself had forgotten the way to the shaman’s heavily carved doors. Stormy scenes complete with forked lightning were etched into the dark wood of the double height and width entryway. The Amazon rainforest was also depicted with thick foliage that gradually became a blaze of burning vegetation. Air, Earth, Water and Fire combined to make a collage of magnificent proportions. The shaman may have been an Aeras, but he valued all of the Ekmetalleftis. I saw hope in the carvings. Hope and possibly answers.
Getting them, though, out of the unfortunately borderline insane medicine man, would be difficult.
The room was dimly lit with candles, the smell of incense burning wafted on the air. A fire pit sat in the centre of the floor, colourful cushions dotted around it. On the edges of the rounded space were treasures that should have existed in a museum. But as all the human museums in the world were undoubtedly destroyed, I couldn’t help feeling relief that something of the ancient Incas had survived here at least.
Theo went immediately to the fire, holding out his hands and letting an involuntary sigh out as the heat engulfed him. Had he had access to his Stoicheio he would have been blazing gold from his eyes. As it was, he was refuelling. We’d long ago learned that being cut off from our Stoicheio did not mean we couldn’t feed in the face of the Element itself.
“I shall let grandfather know you are here,” Hip said quietly as if respect should be given in this heavily scented room.
Or he was aware that Theo was feeding his Stoicheio and showing restraint. It was hard to tell with Hip. I wanted to like him. I wanted to be able to trust him. But my trust-meter had been broken long before I had.
“Come, Cassandra,” Theo murmured. “Come and warm yourself by the fire.”
I hadn’t realised I was so cold. I walked up to Theo and held out my hands to the flickering flames of the fire.
Aether, it said on a hiss of burning coals.
I’m here, I replied.
The fire itself flared, the licking flames leaping into the dark space above our heads. Smoke whorls drifted on the still air, adding to the haze created by the incense. I was already feeling lightheaded.
“Prepare to pass out,” I murmured, before sitting myself down on the cushions, feeling that a prudent move before the shaman’s magic could take hold.
“Pass out?” Theo queried.
“The shaman likes to use whatever he can to establish a meditative state. Last time I was here, I passed out.”
“Brilliant,” Theo replied sarcastically. “No doubt a defensive manoeuvre. One we can’t possibly counter.”
He sucked in a breath of air as if he intended to simply not breathe during our consultation with the shaman. But when the old man emerged from the back room on Hip’s arm, Theo let the breath out slowly. His shoulders relaxed in what had to be a purposeful attempt to look non-threatening. His hands resting benignly on his thighs.
There was nothing benign about Theo. The shaman wouldn’t have been fooled in the slightest.
I expected the shaman to say something. Something riddle-like and impossible to decipher. But he simply sat himself down, with a little help from his grandson, and looked calmly across the fire pit to Theo and me. White eyes stared sightlessly, but even though no recognition flared in those pupil-less pits, I knew the shaman saw everything.
“Grandfather,” Hip said, as he too sat down next to the old man. “Aether has returned to us.”
The shaman remained silent, not moving a muscle or twitching at all. It looked like this was my show to get on the road.
“Do you know what has happened to the world?” I asked.
“The scales tip. Balance is lost. Our world needs Aether, at all costs.” At least he was willing to participate. But his words weren’t anything he hadn’t said to me in the past.
“That’s right,” I said in reply. “Balance is lost. I need the Aeras' help to fix this.”
“Aether is for balance, as Air is to breathe.”
Again nothing he hadn’t already told me on my last visit up this mountain. Had nothing changed for the shaman?
“I still don’t know how I’m meant to right this,” I pointed out. “Can you give me anything other than old riddles?”
Hip shifted uncomfortably as if my words made him embarrassed. Perhaps I’d been a little blunt, but going through every single riddle, the shaman had spoken to me last time, seemed like a monumental waste of effort. I needed help. Repeating past advice seemed redundant.
“Please,” I added, for good measure.
The shaman smiled a gap-toothed smile, wrinkles crinkling and making him look like a crumpled piece of paper.
“The answer is never clear, but lies in what you fear. Quintessence must balance all, Aether’s task so very tall.”
Finally, something new. Theo sat forward, as Hip turned and looked at his grandfather. The shaman simply continued to watch m
e with those unseeing white eyes.
“What I fear?” I said softly, trying to reason it out. What did I fear? I feared I was broken. Was that it? Was that what he meant?
Last time I was here, he’d told me being Aether was a gift I shouldn’t fear. So I could only assume that the fear he spoke of now was a recent development. If it wasn’t the fear of being broken, was it the fear of not Awakening Nero?
“Water has not Awakened,” I said to the old man.
“Aether is for harmony, as Water is to live.”
A repeated riddle. How did the rest go? Aether is for peace, as Earth is to ground us. Aether is for survival, as Fire is to fight. How did this help me? I already knew I needed all four Stoicheio to be Aether and succeed. How I’d succeed in balancing out the Elements once I had them all was still a mystery. But I knew I needed Nero to Awaken to make that happen.
“Help me,” I pleaded. “I can’t do this.”
“Faith is real. Belief is true. What will Aether trust in too?”
Huh. Another new riddle. One uncomfortably close to my own grandfather’s musings. Gramps had always told me, belief is a tangible thing. What was the old shaman trying to get me to see?
“He’s lost me,” I said with a shrug of my shoulders. “Do you have anything?” I asked, turning to look at Theo.
His gaze was trained on the shaman; his head tilted to the side as he contemplated the old man’s words. Calculation and frustration warred for dominance inside his hazel eyes. The light of the fire reflected back in them, making them seem like precious jewels. For a moment, I lost myself in his beauty. If there was anything I trusted, I believed in; it was Theo.
“I’m not sure,” he finally said. “Clearly he’s not particularly worried that Nero has not Awakened.”
“What on earth makes you say that?” How had Theo managed to make sense of the shaman’s riddles when I felt like we were just going around in circles?
Theo shrugged this time. “He’s not telling us anything new.”
He was right insofar as Nero not Awakening being a new development. If the shaman was concerned about its lack of manifestation, wouldn’t he riddle something more pertinent to this current dilemma?
The Tantalising Taste Of Water (Elemental Awakening, Book 4) Page 9
