Saving Daylight

by Shannon K. Butcher

  Duty came before pleasure. Always.

  Now there was no choice but to let his mind go to the lovely place where the two of them were naked together. She’d laid the idea of having children with him out there, and he was obligated to pick it up. “So, sex isn’t out of the question?”

  Her deep blue eyes turned to midnight as she stared at him. There was longing there, though he couldn’t tell if it was for him or a family.

  She held his gaze as she said, “Eternity is a long time to go without children. And without release. Just because I will never love you doesn’t mean that we can’t enjoy each other physically. Does it?”

  Even the idea thrilled him. He could hardly imagine what the real thing would be like.

  His hands tingled with the need to feel her skin beneath them. His mouth watered at the thought of kissing her, tasting all those secret places that would make her gasp and moan. His cock swelled and his balls grew heavy at the thought of touching her, of taking her.

  His voice trembled with lust as he spoke. “Hell, no. We even have a name for that now. It’s called friends with benefits.”

  She tilted her head as if scrutinizing the term, then nodded once. “That is exactly what I would like.”

  He could hardly wait to oblige. Whatever desires she had, whatever naughty fantasies ran through that lovely head of hers, he was going to fulfill them all. And then some.

  “Anything else?” he asked.

  “If we bond, it will be temporary—at least at first.”

  “A trial run?” he asked. Some of his lust deflated as he began to wonder if he’d have enough time with her to do all the things he wanted to do.

  “Exactly.”

  “We’ll have to make up our minds before the colors of the luceria solidify,” he reminded her. “After that, breaking up will kill me.”

  She nodded. “I’m aware. But we should have years before that happens. There’s no rush.”

  Morgan shook his head. “Things are different now. I don’t know if it’s because we’ve all gone so long without binding ourselves to females, or because the sheer amount of power we carry has degraded the luceria somehow. Whatever the case, it’s only taking weeks or even a few days for bonds to become permanent now.”

  She sucked in a sharp breath. “Perhaps we shouldn’t do this at all then.”

  He wasn’t about to let her get away now that he had what he wanted in sight. Even a few days with her could help relieve some of the pain his growing pool of power caused. If she could bleed off enough energy from him, then maybe he could go a few more years before his lifemark lost its last leaf.

  And even if they weren’t together that long, at least he could learn what she tasted like, what she sounded like when she came. That alone was enough to convince him to take a risk.

  “I’m not afraid, Serena. I’d rather take this chance with you and fail, then take no chance at all and die anyway. All I ask is that you don’t take too long to decide.”

  She considered for only a moment. “Okay, then. Let’s do this now.”

  “You don’t want to eat first? You said you were starving.”

  She pushed away the bowl of soup. “The last time I put off bonding with a male to eat, I spent two hundred years trapped and alone, thinking about how much I regretted the hesitation. I won’t make that same mistake twice.”

  She stood and pointed to the floor. Her tone was imperious, demanding. “Take off your shirt and kneel, Theronai.”

  ***

  Serena was making what could possibly be the second biggest mistake of her life, but she wasn’t afraid. During those two centuries of captivity she would have given anything to be able to take a risk—any risk—but her mother’s magic had ensured her safety, leaving her frozen in time, stagnant. Now that Serena could take whatever risks she wanted she wouldn’t be the kind of coward who backed down. She was resigned to the decision to claim Morgan, come what may.

  His dark chest was bare and beautiful under the kitchen lights. The branches of his tree twisted across his torso, weaving up and over his left shoulder, down onto his biceps. She’d seen the marks before, but never had one captured her attention so completely. It was as if each curving twig, each swirl in the bark were real. Alive. More perfect than any photograph or artist’s rendering, his lifemark spoke to her, whispering of the things he’d done and seen.

  She wanted to know where he was when each leaf fell from his tree. She wanted to know what he felt when he’d been young, when the branches had been smaller, barely reaching his heart.

  His jeans had slid down without his belt to hold them up—the same belt that had saved her life. Above the faded blue denim, she could see ridges of muscles across his abdomen, angling steeply down toward his manhood. The thick roots of the luceria shot down toward his thigh and groin.

  The idea of following the path they took made her insides tremble with anticipation. Her skin heated. Her pulse and breathing sped. A deep ache clenched her core and sat there, hungry and restless. Something hot and liquid inside of her burst free and filled her veins with the kind of physical need she hadn’t felt since Iain had last touched her skin and loved her with his body.

  Before thoughts of him could ruin this moment, she shoved them away and focused on the man to whom she would bind herself.

  Morgan’s gaze was fixed on her, eager and excited. His nostrils flared with each rapid breath, forcing the wide expanse of his bare chest to stretch and swell. Thick muscles covered him, gracing his frame with smooth contours her fingers itched to feel.

  He would be hers soon, to do with as she pleased. And she would be his.

  His luceria seethed with ripples of color, dancing in an almost desperate display.

  She’d always found the necklaces so pretty and wondered why their creator had decided to give them to the male of the species. Now that the glittering band was to be hers, she understood. Seeing it around his dark throat, watching the colors dance as if alive, she wanted his luceria even more. In this moment, she would have done almost anything to make it hers.

  That was why his luceria was so appealing. It wanted to tie them together. It displayed a beautiful plume like some exotic bird working to catch her eye, to coax her in and entrance her.

  She wasn’t sure how she’d ever give it up if they didn’t suit one another.

  As her gaze lingered on his magnificent body, she knew that he would suit her physically. Quite well. The lust prowling through her was a familiar beast. She had felt it with Iain and never once grown tired of his body. With Morgan, that beast was even hungrier, larger. She’d gone too long without physical release. It would take a long time for her to be sated.

  Morgan stayed where he was, kneeling on the hard, tile floor, waiting for her to act. Physical power radiated out of him, along with an invisible shimmer of something illusive and magical.

  All of that would be hers, soon. He would be hers, at least for a time. All she had to do was give him her vow.

  She reached out and wrapped her fingers around the slippery band of the luceria. It fell away easily, draping over her hand like a living thing. Warm colors swirled in its depths, making her wonder which one it would choose for her.

  Her mother had been the Iron Lady. Serena hoped her title would be less cold and hard.

  Maybe she’d never find out how the luceria saw her. Maybe this bond she and Morgan forged now would only last a few days. Maybe they would annoy each other or find their personalities clashing. There was no way to know without taking a leap.

  After two centuries of forced safety and isolation, she was more than ready to take a chance on him.

  Morgan stared at the necklace he’d worn his whole life. There was reverence in his gaze, and a small part of her wished that she’d one day see him look on her with that same expression.

  Before the girlish thought could take root, she wrapped the band around her neck until she heard the muted click of the ends locking together beneath her hair.

&nb
sp; There was no turning back now.

  Morgan sliced a small cut over his heart to symbolize his willingness to shed blood for her. The act was unnecessary on the heels of his bravery tonight, but the ritual demanded it of him.

  She knew what would come next. He would offer her his vow to give his life for hers.

  The idea was abhorrent to her. She’d always thought the ancient ritual was too bloodthirsty, too violent. Perhaps some women would find the notion romantic, but Serena had seen too many men die upholding that vow, literally giving their lives to save their mates.

  She would never ask that of any man. Her life was no more important than his.

  But instead of giving her the promise his kind usually did—offering to protect her with his life—Morgan gave her something entirely different.

  “I know I’m supposed to say ‘my life for yours,’ but that’s not what you want. That vow promises that I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you safe, even if it means going against your wishes. I won’t do that to you. So instead, I offer you this.” He took a deep breath that expanded his chest to giant proportions. The branches of his lifemark whipped and twisted as if caught in a silent storm. “My power is yours, Serena. I promise to never control, cage or manipulate you. I promise to be a true partner to you, both in life and combat. And I promise to never ask you to love me.”

  She stood there, speechless. He was giving her everything she wanted. And now it was her turn to give him her vow. Once she did, they would be bound in a way that could only be broken if she left a loophole.

  She had to be careful. Words mattered. Promises were binding. Once she spoke aloud what she’d been holding inside, there was no taking it back. The magic of the luceria would bind her to her words.

  Serena stilled her nerves and lifted her chin. The regal pose made her feel more in control, though it was merely an illusion. Inside she was shaking, half-terrified that she’d misstep.

  Her voice was deceptively calm, giving away none of her inner turmoil. “Morgan, I promise to never be reckless with my safety so that you don’t have to regret the freedom you’ve promised me. I will use your power wisely and for the good of our people for as much time as we have. Before the colors of the luceria solidify, I will claim you as my own forever, or release you.” She hesitated only a moment before she mimicked his vow, adding, “And I promise to never ask you to love me.”

  Morgan stared at her for a moment, then nodded once.

  He touched the cut over his heart to gather a drop of blood, then rose to his feet and pressed that to the luceria.

  Their bond was forged, and now it was the luceria’s turn to show them what it willed.

  Serena prayed that what she saw now wouldn’t make her regret her decision to tie herself to this man.

  ***

  In the space of a few seconds, Morgan watched Serena suffer through two hundred years of captivity, alone and cut off from the world.

  He didn’t understand why the luceria would torment him like this—forcing him to watch her agony without being able to do anything about it. What good was there in witnessing her pain?

  Frustrated and angry, he was left with no choice but to accept her endless boredom and bouts of rage and loneliness. Whatever he needed to endure to learn what made Serena tick, he would.

  Their partnership depended on their ability to bond and communicate.

  After a few years of screaming and begging for help, she finally realized no one could hear her. No one was coming. No one would save her.

  Her mother had died in the attack she’d tried to protect Serena from, leaving no one to know her daughter was trapped here.

  Slowly, Serena came to realize that if she was to break free, she was going to have to do it on her own.

  She came up with countless strategies to shatter the protective magic, or at least crack it enough so that someone could hear her cries for help. But nothing worked. With no source of power to draw from, and no way to store more, the little bit of energy she could gather from her surroundings was tapped out quickly.

  Frustration and rage consumed her, so powerful that Morgan didn’t know how she’d survived it.

  A few more decades passed, and she learned to meditate—to block out the world and let time flow around her without notice. She would go into these restful states for years at a time, only to come out and find that nothing had changed.

  She lived for the moments when the stars would align—or whatever caused it—and her prison walls would thin enough that she could see or hear the world passing by. She would watch with rapt attention, striving to memorize the conversations and events she witnessed. Then, when she could no longer see or hear the world passing by her, she’d replay those memories in her mind, over and over, like a favorite song.

  Then, finally, came a woman powerful enough to see through to where Serena was imprisoned. Brenya, Queen of Athanasia, wife of the Solarc himself, had freed her with a mere wave of her hand.

  Serena’s endless torment was over, or so she thought.

  Now free of her prison and surrounded by her own people, she was still completely alone. Her heart was broken, the love of her life now bound to another. Everything she’d hoped for was gone. Every fantasy she’d used to survive her imprisonment would never come to pass. Iain was in love with someone else. They were expecting a child together. There was no place in his life for Serena, who had held herself together on the false promise of a happy future—one she now knew would never be.

  Morgan was half-mad when the luceria finally let go of him and returned him to his own body and time.

  He was shaking, cold. Stunned.

  He didn’t know how she’d survived that torment. Sure, he lived with physical pain, but that was far better than the mental torture she’d endured.

  The whole time she’d been trapped, the one thought that kept her going was that Iain would be waiting for her. They were in love. Betrothed. They’d been moments from bonding when she’d been whisked away. She believed his devotion was so deep, that it never once occurred to her that he would have written her off as dead and moved on with his life. But that’s what had happened.

  Believing Serena dead in the attack that had killed so many of their women, Iain had met Jackie and bound himself to her, irrevocably. He was lost to Serena forever. The one hope that had kept her alive had been destroyed.

  Morgan knew how hard it was to lose someone you loved, but Femi had died of natural causes. Iain had chosen to walk away. Sure, he’d had good reason to believe Serena was dead, but the pain his willing decision to abandon her had caused was far deeper than any natural death could be.

  Until feeling Serena’s loss, Morgan didn’t believe it was possible to hurt more than he had after losing Femi. Now that he’d felt what Serena had, he realized how ignorant he’d been.

  Femi would have stayed with Morgan if she could have. Iain had chosen to walk away. One was unavoidable pain. The other was intentional betrayal.

  Morgan didn’t know if he should thank the man for keeping Serena alive during her captivity, or punch him in the balls for hurting her.

  If not for what he was feeling now, Morgan might have done both. But now, thanks to Serena’s bond, Morgan’s pain was gone, and the decay of his soul had stopped.

  He was almost giddy with relief, swaying on his feet as his body struggled to adjust to its new pain-free state.

  He felt light. Free. Hopeful. His body felt a hundred years younger, stronger and more capable than he’d ever hoped to feel again. She hadn’t just saved him. She had restored him.

  Morgan’s heart ached for her suffering and loss, but he would devote his life to helping her move past her pain. Somehow.

  A delusional laugh bubbled from his throat, mocking him.

  How could he help Serena get over what Iain had done when Morgan had never been able to get over his own heartache?

  ***

  In the space of a few seconds, Serena lived an entire human lifetime with Morgan a
nd an Egyptian woman named Femi.

  They were married in the way of humans, and deeply in love. Their parents didn’t approve, but rather than let the meddling break them apart, the couple chose to leave their home and find a new one—a place miles away where they could forge their own life together.

  They were blissfully happy and spent every possible second together.

  After a few years, it became clear that while Morgan wasn’t aging, Femi was. She spent hours crying, wishing for children—wishing for time to slow its inevitable march. As her hair grayed and wrinkles creased her skin, she begged Morgan to leave her. She was no good to him as an old woman. She couldn’t even give him children now.

  But Morgan didn’t care. He loved her, children or not. He was completely and utterly devoted to her in a way Serena had never seen before. She hadn’t even known devotion this deep was possible.

  Through sickness and aging, Morgan stayed by Femi’s side. When she was too old to pass for his wife, they moved to a different country and she became his mother. They had to hide their passion for each other, but he still loved her with the same ferocity he had when she’d been a young girl.

  When they moved again, Femi became his grandmother. There were no more adventures, no more talk of the future. All dreams of someday vanished.

  Shortly after that, Femi died.

  Morgan buried her and returned to his birthplace, where his family shunned him for his disobedience.

  With his heart shattered and his soul weeping, he wandered aimlessly around the globe, grieving and lonely, aching for his Femi. He ended up in America, and made the war against the Synestryn his sole pursuit.

  He hid his past behind a casual, flirtatious manner, making those around him believe things that were not true—that he was a womanizer with a string of satisfied ladies behind him.

  In truth, there had been no one. He’d been in the world, but in some ways, had been just as alone as Serena had been.

  His love for Femi was both beautiful and tragic. One human woman had stolen his heart, and to this day, it still belonged to her.