by Ivy Asher
Valen pulls my hips forward off the desk and thrusts into me so hard I scream his name in encouragement. His big hand is splayed on my lower back, and he tilts my hips up as he pulls out and then slams back in.
Fuck. He feels so good, and I have no choice but to throw my head back and beg for more. He pumps into me harder and faster and then slows his pace as he leans forward and claims a kiss. I taste myself on his tongue, but I can’t focus on anything other than how incredible Valen feels inside of me.
“You feel so fucking good,” he tells me, echoing my exact thoughts.
Our foreheads press together as we fight for air and chase release. I wrap my arms around Valen’s back trying to pull him impossibly closer to me. I want his soul to wrap itself with mine. For us to fuse together in every possible way so that we’re never without each other and nothing can ever change that. He reaches down between us and plays with my clit, and I fracture into a thousand pieces. Pleasure slams through every inch of me, and I swim in it and feel Valen slam inside of me a couple more times before he shouts out my name and buries himself as deep inside of me as he can go. We pant for a minute, reveling in the feel of each other, and let the tail end of our orgasms cover us like a tingly blanket.
“Well done,” I praise and pat Valen on the back, and I lean forward and nip at his chest.
He looks down with a proud smile, and we both start laughing. He grinds his hips against me again and sucks on my bottom lip.
“Now don’t go starting things you can’t finish,” I warn.
“Who says I can’t finish?”
“Well, being that you have about twenty minutes, give or take, before you’re writhing around in pain, I’d say another round is welcome but unlikely.”
“Raincheck then?” he teases against my mouth.
“Yes, please,” I whisper at his mouth and kiss him hard until we both have to come up for air. “Let’s get you to the room so you can transition there on the mattresses instead of here in the dirt,” I tell him as I look down to where we’re still connected.
Valen’s smile is contagious, and we both press against each other, beaming like fools. “Beautiful and wise,” he tells me before pulling out of me and searching for clothes.
He hands me my leggings, bra, and top before collecting his own clothes and pulling them on.
“Should I let Bastien know what’s going on so he doesn’t get the same scare you did?”
Valen chuckles and gives me a quick kiss. “No, fair is fair. He should live through the same panic I did. Helps us appreciate the other more, especially when one of us is being a stubborn ass.”
“Bastien, being a stubborn ass? I don’t believe it,” I snark, and we both head out of the barn and back out into the cool night.
“Did you find anything suspicious in there?” I ask, jerking my head in the direction of the barn behind us.
“No, just the spells he mentioned, some maps, and one very sexy Sentinel,” he tells me and slaps my ass. “What were you thinking you were going to find?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t have anything specific in mind. I was just hoping to find something that would put all of the pieces together.” Valen follows me out of the cut in the barrier. I reach my hand out to where my magic coats Silva’s and pull it back inside of my center.
“You’re getting good at that,” Valen tells me with a nod. “But you should close the access point behind you, or at least set a trip-cast inside of the opening so you know if anyone comes in behind you.”
I nod and shoot him a smile, and I make a mental note to practice more protective casts. He grabs my hand and intertwines our fingers as we walk back to the house. The intimacy of it is so simple and yet it feels so huge at the same time.
“What do you mean by put the pieces together?” he asks.
“Like where Lachlan and them got the lead that had them flying to Europe in the first place. Or why Silva has a barrier around this barn to begin with.”
“Well, that last part might be easy to answer. They were tracking lamia, so this could just be a precaution in case the lamia caught on and started tracking them. This barrier would have kept the lamia out of the building and prevented them from hearing any plans made inside. Lamia have really good hearing, among other things.”
I have to admit that he makes a valid point, but I still can’t let go of the doubt and suspicion that there’s more here that I’m just not seeing. We stay in the trees and skirt the others who are still training hard behind the house. The sight of them working to master their runes feels amazing, but I shut out the pride that fills my stomach and focus on getting Valen back to the house. We sneak in, and I pull blankets back from the mattresses on the floor.
“You might have time to get a quick shower in, wash off the sex before you’re wishing you could black out instead of feeling the runes sear themselves into you.”
Valen kisses me and then flicks the tip of my nose. “What a beautiful picture your words paint for me,” he deadpans. “And I’m perfectly happy to have your orgasms on my skin until this is over and I can talk you into taking a shower with me.”
I chuckle. “Well, you might be waiting a while; I’m pretty sure I have PTSD from the last time I tried to shower with one of you.”
We both cringe at the memory of Ryker lying on the shower floor in pain as his runes surfaced slowly on his skin. Valen’s eyes soften, and his mouth turns up with a sly smile. “That’s all the more reason why we need to reenact it and chase the bad memories away with lots and lots of orgasms.”
I clench my thighs against his tempting words, and the movement isn’t lost on him. A knowing grin fills his face, and he pulls me in for a thorough kiss. He grunts, but this time I know it’s not from pleasure but the first tendrils of pain. Valen falls to his knees, and I go with him. I hate this part, but I’m warmed all over by his efforts to smile through it.
“Bastien will be freaking the fuck out right about now,” he grits out, and I laugh and pull Valen into my lap, cradling him as the transition takes its violent hold and works to leave its mark. His hand reaches up to caress my cheek, and I selfishly lean into it, needing the comfort.
“It’s okay, Vinna. I’ve been waiting for this since the night you marked us. It’ll be over soon.”
“Pretty sure that’s what I’m supposed to be saying to you,” I tell him on a chuckle.
“Fine, we’ll keep saying it to each other until it’s over,” he relents, a grunt stealing the end of his words.
I brush loose strands of hair out of his face. “How did I get so lucky?” I tell him, parroting his earlier sentiments. And that’s all I can think as I watch him go through hell. Bastien comes tearing into the room, takes one look at us, and smiles, relief filling his eyes. He kneels down and takes Valen’s hand and starts reciting poems as Valen and I take turns telling each other that it’s okay and that it’ll be over soon.
9
“That was a cheap fucking shot!” Bastien bellows.
Kallan looks unfazed by Bastien’s outrage and readies himself for another attack. “Oh come on, aren’t you some big bad Sentinel now? You think everyone is going to fight fair?” he taunts.
“We’re training, not fighting right now, but if you want to stop pulling punches, I’m perfectly happy to oblige,” Bastien tells him through clenched teeth.
When Kallan yawns, I slam a hand over my mouth to keep hidden the smile that flashes into place.
“Are you done monologuing, or should I take a seat?” Kallan asks, his tone bored.
Bastien curses and does something with his Defensive magic that has Kallan choking. “That’s enough bullshit out of you,” Bastien goads.
Kallan counteracts Bastien’s cast and gulps down air as he flings maroon-tinted magic in return. Bastien rolls to avoid it, but it catches his heel. His hands slam down and stick to his sides, and his legs seem to seal together. He looks like he’s doing his best impression of a falling log or some kind of fish out of water as he
struggles on the ground.
“Motherfucker!” Kallan shouts out and starts scrubbing at his eyes. “Really, you’re going to Magic Mace me? Who’s taking cheap shots now?”
I attempt to shove the laugh that’s trying to crawl out of my mouth back in, but it just comes out more high-pitched and obvious. Both Bastien and Kallan were doing well with the previous training. I’ve just paired them up, which based on the banter that’s happening, was a genius move.
“Oh, you poor baby, did you think everyone is going to fight fair?” Bastien mocks, and I completely lose it.
Both of their heads snap in my direction, and judging by the scowls on both of their faces, neither of them find my obvious entertainment very amusing. That just makes me laugh even harder. I’ve been watching them for about an hour, and I’m learning so much as I do. I’ve read a lot about Offensive and Defensive magic, but reading lines in a book and seeing it with my own eyes are two very different things. So far, with Enoch and his coven, we’ve focused on Defensive magic and Elemental magic. We were just starting to dip more into the other branches when I had my awakening, so it’s been awesome to see these two go at it. I get to see some of the things that I’ve learned, used against a branch of magic I haven’t tapped much into and it’s incredible.
Offensive magic and its casts primarily mess with an opponent’s senses or body in some way. Casters do this by either overloading their opponent with pain or nulling them and stealing their senses. Kallan hasn’t tapped into the pain aspect too much, but everything else has been fair game. They’re both so creative in how they attack and defend, it’s mesmerizing, but the commentary is what’s been keeping me glued to this spot. I don’t think I’ve laughed this hard in who knows how long. I have tears streaming down my face from the hilarious bickering they’ve been doing back and forth.
“Is she laughing at us?” Kallan asks.
“She certainly is,” Bastien confirms.
I wipe tears from my eyes and look up to see that they’re both on their feet now and staring at me, the look in both of their eyes incredulous.
“Don’t mind me, carry on,” I manage to squeak out between peals of laughter.
“Do we amuse you, Bruiser?” Bastien asks me, but I know that tone.
He’s going to try and come for me, and the way he’s moved his weight to the balls of his feet confirms my suspicions. Good. They’re using too much magic and not enough of the weapons they’re supposed to be calling and using against each other. I know Kallan doesn’t want to talk about the runes cupping his ass cheeks, but he needs to start using them. I pull up a barrier just as Bastien shoves his sunset-orange magic at me. It hits my barrier, causing it to shatter, but I’m already moving.
I know my shields pretty much work as a failsafe, but I don’t want to test their infallibility, so I’ve been working hard on different barriers. I call a new one into place, the orange-yellow sheen glimmering around me. I drop it for a heartbeat and send three daggers flying toward different parts of Bastien’s body. Warmth slams into me from behind, and I’m forced forward by Kallan’s unsurprising tackle. I use Elemental magic to create a forceful gust and blow myself out from underneath him. He swears as he slams into the hard dirt minus my body to cushion his fall.
I twist cat-like mid-air, landing upright, and send daggers flying toward Kallan on the ground. He rolls to avoid them and kips up onto his feet. Bastien comes up on his side, and they both rush me. I palm two daggers, and in a blink, the three of us are caught up in a dance of movement. Lunging, twisting, striking, looking for access to each other, one tiny opening where we can land a hit or a blade and win.
I breathe in with each defensive move I make, and out with each attack I deliver. The three of us are a blur of action, and we all move so well together, as we evade and assault one another, that if I didn’t know better, I’d think this was choreographed. I lean back to avoid a kick Kallan sends my way, and I realize too late that I’ve left my stomach exposed to Bastien. He doesn’t capitalize on the opening, and I know he saw it. His eyes flit from my stomach to my legs where he then tries to sweep my feet out from underneath me while I’m off balance.
This fucker isn’t going for the kill shot.
I pull on my Sentinel magic and send a pulse out that throws Kallan and Bastien away from me. I stomp over to Bastien on the ground, who’s slowly getting up and shaking the rattling my magic just gave him out of his limbs.
“Are you fucking pulling punches?” I demand.
“What the hell, Bruiser?”
“Don’t what the hell me; are you pulling your hits?”
Bastien doesn’t answer, but I didn’t really need him to.
“My stomach was open. You should have shoved a blade into my side and given yourself the upper hand, but you didn’t. Why?”
I’m in his face and shouting, and the other guys have stopped their training to watch.
“I’m not going to fucking stab you, Bruiser. Shoving a dagger into your stomach isn’t going to make us better fighters. I don’t have to actually beat the shit out of you to prove that I can.”
“You need to know what it feels like to go for the kill so that you can rebound accordingly. You need to be prepared for how your opponent will respond to being hurt.”
“Bruiser, that’s not how training works. We execute supes as paladin, but they don’t have us actually kill them in training as conscripts to guarantee that we know how.”
“They’re producing subpar paladin then,” I argue.
“Bruiser, I appreciate your bloodlust—it’s hot as fuck—but you’re wrong on this. Repetition of movement and muscle memory, that’s more important than actually shoving a knife, sword, mace, arrow, or any of the other magical weapons we can conjure up, into someone so that we know what it feels like.”
I know Bastien is still talking to me, but this situation triggers the memory of the first time Talon ever hit me in training. One minute I’m with Bastien in Belarus, and the next I’m with Talon in the ring.
I wipe at blood from my split lip and stare at Talon in shock.
“You fucking hit me?”
“And?” Talon asks, his breath even in spite of the hours we’ve been sparring.
“We’re training,” I tell him, confused.
“Yeah, and you need to know how to shake off a hit.”
Beth’s rage-filled face pops up in my mind, and I try to shove it away. “I know how to take a hit,” I tell him, my voice low, my eyes filled with fire.
“No, you know how to mentally and physically protect yourself while taking a beating. What I’m teaching you is how to work through the pain of a hit so hard it scrambles your senses. I’m teaching you how to navigate that so you can strike back through it. If you can learn to do that, then there will be no more beatings that you have to protect yourself from anymore, because you’ll be the lethal one doling them out.”
I shake away the echoes of Talon’s voice in my mind and the pain that bubbles to the surface of my soul with it and snap back into the here and now.
“Killer, we told you before that none of us will physically hurt you in a fight. It’s not about you; we wouldn’t do that to each other either. Because just like Bastien said, it’s not necessary,” Knox argues.
“It will make you better fighters. All of us need to be the best we possibly can be. What don’t you get about that?” I throw my arms out in frustration. “We have just a couple more hours of daylight, and you are wasting time. Let’s go!” I clap my hands together like some kind of sports coach, but none of them break away ready for action.
“Squeaks, we know you pushed hard before. You were alone, and you did what you had to do, but you’re not alone anymore; you have all of us now.”
“Yeah, that’s all fine and dandy until they wait for us not to be together to attack. Sabin and I were just grabbing supplies when those shifters came after us. I tried to do what I could, but there was just one of me. You all need to be able to do what I can do
, and that includes fighting through pain and following through on all your hits in training. We can get healed; it’s not like we’re inflicting legitimate mortal wounds or something,” I argue, and I wince at the panic I can hear in my voice.
Sabin separates from the group and walks toward the house we’re staying in. I don’t catch a glimpse of his face, so I can’t tell if he’s pissed, irritated, or just has to pee.
“Vinna, you know what sticklers we are about training,” Kallan tells me, motioning to Enoch and Nash. “And how important the three of us think it is that you get as caught up as you can when it comes to your abilities.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Ryker demands. “You three aren’t the only ones who care about her training.”
“Could have fooled me,” Nash mumbles, but it’s just loud enough that everyone hears it.
“We are her Chosen. We care about her more than anyone or anything on this planet,” Knox snarls as he takes a menacing step closer to Nash.
Valen shoots a hand out to keep Knox from charging, and I throw my head back in irritation that these fuckers are arguing again. Sabin rounds the corner from the front of the house, carrying what looks like a blanket, and makes his way back to where we’re all standing. Their yelling is getting louder, their insults sharper as these fuckers face off again. Sabin walks toward the churning display of testosterone, but instead of jumping in the middle of it to help break it up, he just bypasses it, grabs my hand, and starts pulling me toward the trees.
“Um…what are you doing?” I ask confused, but not at all upset at being pulled away from these boys and their fucking drama. We’ve been here almost two weeks now, and not a day goes by where they’re not sniping at each other about something.
“We’re going to find a good spot in the woods, lay this blanket down, and then we’re going to fuck,” Sabin announces.
My head snaps to him, but he’s tracing a path through the trees with his eyes and not looking at me. Holy shit. A flash of heat sparks through me, pooling at the apex of my thighs, and I quickly recall the few times Sabin’s even kissed me.
