Page 114 of Lore of the Tides
The world turned to stardust.
Lore became undone beneath him. She cried out his name, not caring that they were in an inn with people on either side of them; she didn’t care about anyone else on this entire earth right now, because she had lost herself to wave after wave of pleasure.
He continued to thrust into her and reached down, swirling his thumb on her bundle of nerves. Lore cried out; it was so sensitive, but, oh gods,oh gods!
“—give me one more, honey, let’s go together.”
And they did. They crashed together.
Lore cried out, tears burning her eyes, soaking into her hair, as her body shook with waves of pleasure so intense her fingers andtoes went numb. He cried out in pleasure as he tipped over the edge with her, letting his own release envelop him.
Lightning bolts shattered her mind.
Finndryl shuddered above her, his length throbbing inside her as she pulsed and tensed with waves of pleasure around his girth.
He pulled her to him, pressing her into his chest, his hand gripping the back of her head, and Lore went limp beneath him as a sob rocked through her body.
She felt utterly complete, whole.
Finndryl kissed her tears, and Lore cupped his face, running her thumb along his cheekbones. His own cheeks were wet with tears.
“You don’t have to pull away anymore. I won’t hurt you. I’ll never hurt you, Lore.” He kissed her lips and nuzzled into her hair. “I’ve been lost for as long as I’ve been alive. It wasn’t until I met you that I realized where I was meant to be.”
“And where is that?”
“At your side. You’re my guiding star, and I’ve been lost at sea.” He pulled back until he could see her. “Everything that I cherish dwells in your eyes. You’re all I need. All I want.”
She couldn’t let fear limit her anymore. This was it, this was... “You have me. Every part of me. Forever.”
Joy radiated from him to her; from her to him. It swirled in the air around them, kissed their glistening skin, and settled into them.
He rolled onto his back, and Lore nuzzled into his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart.
The love she felt for him was written on her bones. This she would fight for with her every breath. She would give up everything on the quest to save Duskmere—save this.
She would never, could never, give him up.
Chapter 37
The following morning, in the dusty air of Jamal market, Lore pushed through throngs of early morning shoppers, stepped around overfilled stalls, and avoided eye contact with hawklike merchants ready to haggle with her until they were blue in the face. She’d emptied her pack at the inn—donating her supplies to the designated Reddy bin, a basket in the library filled with provisions for Reddies just starting out on their journeys, or others who might have found themselves at the wrong end of a bandit’s sword—and now it sagged on her shoulders, filled to the brim with food that, with the help of a spell fromDeeping Lune, would keep until her arrival in Duskmere.
She heaved a sigh of relief when the crowd thinned enough for her to spy the docks.
First light had barely breached the unending expanse of sea, and already teams of travelers roamed the wooden docks, loaded down with valises, packs, and crates. Sun-stained fishermen sang bawdy chanteys as they wrestled with ropes and hauled their cargo up and down gangways. Traders and skilled artisans hawked their merchandise at passersby in a dozen tongues, the cacophony of languages and dialects a song when paired with the creaking of ships, the flap of sails, and the piercing cry of gullsoverhead. The smells of smoke, fish, citrus, and spices mingled with the salt-laden air.
When Lore arrived at an empty bench, she heaved the overstuffed pack from her shoulders and plopped down to people watch. But as the minutes ticked by, all she could focus on were the grimoires nestled in the satchel at her waist. She checked and rechecked both books. Then she tested that the leather straps were secure—that they had not warped or frayed. Then, the golden clasps.
And then she verified it all over again.
Lore couldn’t shake the feeling that she had a target on her back. That thieves were lurking in every shadow, behind every stack of barrels. She felt like she was walking around with a golden chain or a crown studded with rubies and sapphires on her head. A sign lettered on her forehead that said:“Hello, I am wearing items more precious than gold—please rob me.”
These thoughts ricocheted through her mind.
Fisting her hands in her skirts and stopping herself from ensuring that the books were there was a constant command she had to relay to herself again and again. Because if she drew any more attention to them, then everyone would know, right? How valuable these were. How precious.
And if a group of hardened criminals snuck up behind her and cut her belt with the sharp end of their knife, would she be able to get the books back?
Yes, she reminded herself. Lore was powerful now—even if the books were taken from her, she would find them.
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