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As he ran his lapis gaze down my body, my nipples pebbled in response, and I felt a quiver in my thighs. My breath caught, and I stood frozen to the spot, utterly captured by his attention. His power. I reveled in it, letting my head fall back and releasing a soft sigh.

Nithe took that as an invitation and moved in, licking and laving my neck and breasts. I could do naught but grasp the silky strands of his blue-black hair and give myself over to the sensations.

When he hoisted me into his arms, I happily wrapped my legs around him, clasping my ankles behind his back and bringing us together as I shamelessly rubbed myself against his erection. He let out a low rumbling growl that I felt in my chest and at my core, and I took his mouth with abandon.

I only released my grasp on him when he lowered me to the bed, bracing himself on his arms above me and taking me in once again from head to toe, his perusal like a physical caress. He made a comment about how I looked like a goddess spread out before him with my hair splayed around my head, and I blushed a little. It was possible that he knew firsthand—at least more than I.

I reversed our positions and he let me, lowering himself to the mattress with his delectable upper body propped on his elbows. He watched me raptly, those vertical pupils expanding in the sea of blue, as I took him in hand and then lowered my mouth to him. I took as much as I could, using my hand to bring him additional pleasure, and smiled a little when a small hum made him groan and drop back onto the bed. The more I worked him, the more I relished his bliss, the more aroused I became.

As if he could sense—or scent—the change, he took control, moving in a fluid motion to position me on my hands and knees facing the balcony doors. He ran calloused fingertips down my spine, lingering on the globes of my ass for a beat before I felt him at my entrance.

He eased in at first, and the stretch was magnificent. As he worked inside more and more, the fullness was almost more than I could bear. When he finally seated himself fully, hitting that spot inside me that made flashes of color burst behind my eyelids, I lost myself to the rapture.

Begging for more, he delivered, thrusting harder and faster, bringing me higher and higher. I felt as if I were at the highest peak of the Skotos Mountains, about to leap. But there would be no fall. No, I was sure I would fly.

One hand still on my hip to keep me steady, he brought the other around to cup a breast, my nipple beading against his palm. He squeezed, just this side of pain, and I felt the rush where we were joined. He clearly felt it, too, as he groaned and rotated his hips as he thrust, hitting both my pleasure pearl and that magical spot deep inside.

I honestly wasn’t sure how I was still conscious, the pleasure was almost unbearable, yet I still hadn’t come. When he slid that hand on my breast down the front of my body and circled his index finger over my clit, I shattered with a scream, my body spasming around his and pulling him in deeper, squeezing the silk over steel.

He pulled out while I was still trembling both inside and out, and I almost screamed my frustration until he flipped me over and immediately took me again, staring into my eyes as he thrust and lifted my hips to meet his, sweat dripping from his brow and glistening on his chest.

I scratched my nails down his flesh, hard enough to mark but not to draw blood, and he hissed, his eyes closing. When he swirled his hips again, and I felt myself tightening once more, I reached around and gently played with that tight knot of muscle, causing him to lose control of his tempo a bit. On the next thrust, I came with another shout.

He pushed inside one more time. Hard. Deep. Then he bowed his back and roared, his essence bathing me in warmth unlike anything I had experienced before. The aftershocks of my orgasm pulled all I could out of him until he collapsed atop me, breathing heavily and seeming to take in my scent.

I petted his back, swirling my finger in the perspiration there, fingering the ridges that were a sensory dream, and marveling at how every muscle on his body seemed carved from stone.

At some point, I must have fallen asleep, because the next thing I knew, a gentle kiss on my temple roused me. Nithe stood at the side of the bed, still breathtakingly naked. He brushed some hair back from my face and then leaned down to kiss my lips. When he rose, he told me that he had to go but assured me that thoughts of our encounter would not be far from his mind for quite some time. I told him the same and then watched as he walked to the balcony, his tight backside flexing with every step.

He opened the doors wide, glanced over his shoulder at me with a smile, and then jumped.

I gasped and flew off the bed to the railing, looking down. When I saw nothing, I lifted my gaze, taking in the magnificent creature in the sky. His scales were the color of ash, and his wings were huge and darker than midnight. He had jutting black horns starting in the middle of his snout to run up over the center of his massive head. The farther back on his head they went, the longer and sharper they became, eventually jutting out from thick frills. He looped a circle and then dove, banking at the last moment to come as close as he dared to the building.

I felt the brush of air on my face and body and put a hand to my chest, in absolute and utter awe. It was like a wave, and it wasn’t something I would soon forget.

I watched until I could no longer see him as he flew toward Spessa’s End and then returned to the room, closing and locking the balcony doors behind me.

Picking up his discarded shirt from the floor, I slipped it over my head and pulled it to my nose, inhaling and taking in the woodsy, earthy smell.

Surrounded by his scent and still tingling from our encounter, I fell asleep to sweet, sweet dreams.

Willa

THE LAST ORACLE

Not a lot has been revealed about the last oracle to be birthed, but what we do know is significant.

Prophecies are dreams of the Ancients. They are then shared with the oracles—rare mortals able to communicate directly with the gods without having to summon them—and then passed on to the Gods of Divination.

The prophecy we know today was the last dreamt by the Ancients. It is a promise known by only a few, dared to be spoken by even fewer, and only repeated by a descendant of the Gods of Divination—like Penellaphe, Goddess of Wisdom, Loyalty, and Duty—and the last oracle.

That oracle had the last name of Balfour. She was kind and a great conversationalist, and it is said that Princess Kayleigh Balfour of Irelone resembled her.

We know that Poppy received the last name of Balfour from her foster parents Leopold and Coralena, so it makes you wonder what else is hidden within that little bit of knowledge, doesn’t it?

THE DEAD BONES CLAN

The Dead Bones Clan is a group of vicious, cannibalistic mortals of the land outside the Rise. They used to live all across Solis, mainly where the Blood Forest now grows. Most assumed they were eradicated when the Ascended burned everything between New Haven and Pompay. But at some point over the past several hundred years, they ended up near Spessa’s End.