Page 15 of A Kiss of Healing & Honor (Darkstone Academy #4)

Gwydion’s head snapped up, his silver eyes wide with shock. “Ilhan, no! I couldn’t possibly ask that of you.”

“You’re not asking. I’m offering.” I held his gaze steadily. “We need you at your full strength tomorrow, Gwydion. And if this is what it takes to ensure that, then I’m willing to do it.”

For a long moment, Gwydion simply stared at me, his expression a mix of wonder and disbelief.

“I don’t mind a little pain,” I added, hiding my trepidation. “If it’ll help you.”

“Ah, my noble friend, it’s not just pain that nourishes me.” He smiled his usual sly, flirtatious smile. “Pleasure works even better.”

Slowly, he reached up to drag his icy fingertips down my cheeks. Then he went up on tiptoes to press a lingering kiss to my mouth.

I flinched despite myself. His touch, always cold, now burned like frostbite.

I couldn’t help comparing it to the brief, passionate kiss Jacinthe and I had shared right after the duel. Her lips had felt burning hot against mine, and her body had been softly curved instead of lean and hard, like the Fae in my arms right now.

Gwydion stepped back. I looked at him, my heart pounding, my mind reeling.

Since meeting him, I’d known him primarily as a shameless flirt who delighted in scandalizing me with his outrageous innuendos and provocative touches.

Now, I half-expected his eyes to gleam with a hungry, predatory light. Instead, I saw vulnerability, wry self-deprecation, and raw need.

He shook his head. “No. It’s kind of you to offer, but I’ll find another way.”

Silently, I cursed my reaction to his kiss. I’d been startled rather than revolted, as he seemed to think.

This was Gwydion. My fellow apprentice. My friend. Who loved Jacinthe as much as I did.

“Don’t be stupid,” I said, my voice hoarse with nerves. “I was just startled, that’s all. I’m, uh, I mean, I’ve never kissed another man before, not like this.”

I saw him relax a little, and put my hands on his shoulders. “Can we try that again?”

Feeling embarrassed and strangely awkward, I bent and kissed him.

As our lips met for the second time, Gwydion’s lips were unexpectedly gentle against mine. His icy fingers traced the line of my jaw and cupped my face, easing me into the moment.

The slow, careful caresses of his mouth sparked a quick burn that melted away the remnants of my initial hesitation.

Gwydion quickly deepened the kiss. I found myself drawn into the rhythm he set, a dance of give and take that felt surprisingly natural.

Our kiss was nothing like the raw, fiery exchange I had with Jacinthe. It was smoother, more exploratory, tinged with a sweetness that I hadn’t expected.

As our kiss grew more confident, the initial icy chill of his touch warmed into a tingling warmth that spread through my chest and lower down. My cock began hardening, and I couldn’t help wondering if Gwydion knew what effect he was having on me.

I sensed his need, not just for the physical contact but for the affirmation of connection, of being seen and supported in his vulnerability. It was a need I hadn’t fully understood before, masked as it often was by his flamboyant bravado.

Pulling back slightly, I opened my eyes to meet his silver gaze, no longer shadowed by doubt but bright with a mix of gratitude and something fiercer, more possessive.

“See?” he murmured playfully, his breath mingling with mine. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

“I liked it.” I smiled at him. “What I should I do next?”

Gwydion’s smile returned, wry but visibly more relaxed, as he leaned his forehead against mine. “Nothing. Just relax and enjoy. I have something special I want to give you,” he said.

At his words, my heart began pounding in anticipation. Kissing Gwydion—a Fae— went against everything I’d been taught about being a scion of the proudly human House of Parrish. But I didn’t care anymore.

“To balance the scales between us,” he added, pushing me against the nearest wall.

We stood in a pool of shadow now, invisible to any passers-by in the courtyard below.

He slid to his knees. My cock started throbbing in time to my pounding heart.

I gasped when Gwydion’s clever fingers unfastened the front of my breeches, and let my head loll against the hard stone behind me.

Mother of All, is he really going to…?

I gasped as his fingers stroked my aching shaft. No one else had ever touched me like this before.

He nuzzled into the crease of my thigh, his breath cool against my skin. “You flatter me,” he said, his tone playful.

Then he took me into his mouth, his lips cold as ice and soft as sin. His wickedly talented tongue swirled around my sensitive cockhead.

I tried and failed to suppress my groan of pleasure.

The next few minutes passed in a blur of overwhelming sensation. I surrendered to his skillful ministrations, letting myself fall headlong into the overwhelming rush of pleasure, as my fingers tangled in his soft, pale-green hair.

It was like nothing I had ever felt before, an icy, all-consuming pleasure.

It built and built, cresting higher with every caress of Gwydion’s tongue, every flex of his throat around me. And beneath it all, I could feel the steady, inexorable pull on my powers as he fed, each eager swallow sending cold needles shivering through my aura.

Then, all too soon, my belly muscles tightened, and I felt release gathering in my balls. An instant later, I shuddered and gasped as the first shared climax of my life rushed out of me in a surge of overwhelming pleasure.

As I shook and groaned, clutching his hair, Gwydion drank down my release and my energy with equal fervor.

When my climax had dwindled to aftershocks, he released me with a slow, sensual glide of his slick, now-warmed lips over my softening cock.

“Vesta preserve me,” I panted, sagging bonelessly against the stone wall at my back.

I tried to catch my breath. My mind reeled from the experience. I wasn’t sure how I felt about it yet, but I couldn’t deny that I’d enjoyed it.

A niggling whisper reminded me that Father would be shocked and disappointed if he ever heard about this.

But then again, he was going to be shocked and most likely furious about most of the decisions I’d made ever since Alondra and I had arrived at Darkstone Academy.

What’s one more fault to add to the heaping pile of my shortcomings in his eyes? Especially when he’s the one who’s the convicted traitor.

“Glad to hear you enjoyed it,” Gwydion murmured. He sat back on his heels and licked his lips with a wicked grin. “That should tide me over nicely. You’re a generous friend, Ilhan of Parrish.”

I felt dazed and more relaxed than I’d been in days. The churning anxiety in my head and my gut had faded, leaving me at peace.

But even through my haze of satisfaction, I noticed he hadn’t taken achieved his own release yet.

“I… you should finish, too,” I managed.

I bent and tried to draw him up. I wasn’t sure I was skilled enough to take him into my mouth, but based on years of practice on myself, I was sure I could satisfy him with my hand.

But Gwydion slid nimbly out of my grasp and rose to his feet, his movements fluid and graceful once again. To my relief, he seemed fully restored to himself.

“I thank you for the offer, but there’s no need, my dear friend. I took what I needed.”

“And you gave me something I didn’t know I needed.” I managed a shaky smile and fumbled my buttons closed.

“Are the scales balanced between us now?”

“Of course. I’m just glad I could help.”

Gwydion inclined his head in thanks. Then, to my surprise, he leaned in and kissed me again. It was a quick, almost chaste brush of his lips against mine. “Speaking of which, get some rest to replenish your strength. We need you at your best in the morning.”

I grinned at him. “After this, I don’t think I’ll have any problems sleeping tonight.”

He chuckled, sounding pleased, and led the way down to the courtyard.

∞∞∞

“Friend Ilhan, I won’t fail you this time,” Boreas rumbled seven hours later. He loomed over me, his giant feathered bulk rising from the sand.

The setting moon silvered the long, specially designed saddle strapped securely to his back, and glittered on the many metal buckles of the safety harnesses fastened to the saddle.

The castle’s carpenters, leather-workers, and blacksmiths had labored all afternoon and all night to create the giant saddle.

Now, it was three hours until dawn. I stood on the beach, watching the waves lap against the shore of the cove in the pre-dawn darkness.

My mail shirt, long unused and excavated from the bottom of a chest of my military academy gear, was cold and heavy beneath my cloak.

Wearing it brought back memories of endless drills and training exercises at the imperial military academy in Parrish, before my magic had awakened and upended my life.

Fear twisted in my gut, but I pushed it down.

Tama emerged from the dark waters, his pearly body glowing in the moonlight.

“I spoke to the Clan Grandmother of Dolphin Clan and obtained her permission to swim in these waters. She thanked us for our attempts to save Shuji from Erzabetta’s poison, and offered her friendship and her aid,” he reported in his usual serious tone.

I remembered Lord Shuji, the young merman who’d eaten poisoned fish at last summer’s Victory Day banquet. Sadly, he hadn’t survived. Tama had nearly died, too. “That was generous of her.”

Tama shrugged. “Her warriors are bored and eager to practice their skills. Clan Grandmother thinks Dolphin Clan’s aid will assure the domina-regent that they remain a Drylander ally. The duke’s fleet is still becalmed in the same position.”

“Good,” I breathed.

Among the myriad of other concerns crowding my head yesterday, I’d worried that repairs to the duke’s fleet would put Jacinthe and her mother out of range of Gwydion’s Fae ship.

Tama continued. “Last night, I did as you asked. With the help of Dolphin Clan’s warriors, we towed the ship holding Jacinthe and her mother far away from the others.” He blew out a contemptuous breath. “The Drylanders were all asleep and didn’t notice a thing.”

Divide and conquer.

When making our plans yesterday, Alondra, Gwydion, and I had been convinced that this strategy would be the key to our success.

Even with Guisbald’s offer of men-at-arms, Boreas, and Tama, we still didn’t have enough people to take all the duke’s ships. And not nearly enough mages to protect us from a cannon onslaught from multiple vessels.

But a single ship isolated from the rest of the fleet… that was a target we could take with our limited resources.

“Thank you,” I told Tama. “And where is the duke’s flagship now?”

“Out of sight, sound, and cannon range of the other vessels,” he assured me. “I will lead you there.”

I nodded, relieved that Tama had accomplished his task without the Duke de Norhas or anyone else aboard his flagship noticing. Even better, his success with Dolphin Clan had secured us additional allies in our efforts to retrieve Jacinthe and her mother.

Behind me, the sound of wheels crunching on gravel caught my attention.

As Tama dived back under the water, I turned to see the stalwart Captain Ondine marching toward me at the head of a squad of a dozen men-at-arms.

Behind them, a pair of draft horses pulled a flatbed wagon holding a large raft hastily cobbled together out of planks, barrels, ropes, and other odds and ends.

A group of servants, hooded and cloaked against the wind, followed the wagon, presumably to help unload the raft and drag it into the water.

I recognized Jacinthe’s young friend Toland driving the wagon. Mage Armand and Mage Bevitrice sat next to him on the driver’s bench, each of them bundled in a thick, dark cloak.

As I watched the wagon pull up at the edge of the beach, my fellow mage students, Lady Karminn and Lord Mariota, arrived.

Mariota still limped slightly, a lingering result of the severe burns he’d sustained earlier in the winter. He nodded at me, then walked slowly toward Boreas, inspecting the Dragon and his new saddle.

Boreas studied him in return. “Will you be riding on my back today, crow?” he asked, using the derisive nickname given the mage students.

The huge Dragon still hadn’t forgiven Mariota for his part in bullying Jacinthe last summer.

“No, I’m on the ship, Lord Boreas,” Mariota replied with grave courtesy.

Boreas huffed and turned his attention to the men-at-arms marching over the beach.

Lady Karminn came to stand at my side.

“Are you certain your plan is going to work?” I saw her fidgeting nervously with a large silver fibula fastening the neck of her cloak and sympathized.

My stomach was churning with nerves once more.

I’d forced down some tea and dry bread before leaving the castle. Eyeing the dish of eggs and plate of fried ham on the breakfast table, I’d decided not to risk it.

It wouldn’t inspire confidence if I embarked on my first command by throwing up, I thought wryly.

“With everyone helping this morning, I’m sure of it,” I replied to Karminn as I monitored the efforts to unload the raft from the wagon. “Thank you for agreeing to assist Prince Gwydion and Princess Branwen with the shipbuilding spell.”

“Of course.” She hesitated, biting her lower lip, then blurted, “I owe Princess Jacinthe a debt of honor.”

“Oh?” I asked, more to distract her than out of genuine curiosity.

Tears glimmered in her eyes. “The late Lady Erzabetta… she blackmailed me into spying on Jacinthe. I never wanted to betray her, I swear it! This is the only way I could think to make amends.”

I stared at her in shock.

“I didn’t have a choice!” Karminn protested. “She threatened my brother.”

“I believe you,” I assured her. I’d seen enough of Roderigo and Erzabetta to know that they had stopped at nothing to achieve their ends. “And I appreciate the risk you’re taking. Stay close to Prince Gwydion and Princess Branwen and follow their orders.”

“Thank you,” she whispered, bowing her head. “I won’t let you down. Or Princess Jacinthe.”

Lady Karminn and I walked over together to join the group gathered around the raft, which now bobbed gently in the water just beyond the surf line. Tama held it fast to keep it from drifting away.

The men-at-at-arms gathered in a loose semi-circle around the raft as Gwydion, Princess Branwen, Lady Karminn, and Lord Mariota stepped ankle-deep int the water and joined hands.

Gwydion and Branwen gave the two mage-students some low-voiced instructions, then began the ship-building spell. All four of them lifted their voices in a lilting song that seemed to dance on the wind. Their voices rose and fell in perfect harmony, weaving a complex web of magic that made the air crackle with energy.

Slowly, the crude raft brightened with a glow, as if were a living thing with an aura. The glow steadily increased, brighter and brighter until it was almost too painful to look at directly.

Then, with a blinding flash, the light exploded outward, as if a barrel of gunpowder had suddenly ignited. It was eerily silent.

Magenta and blue afterimages blinded me for a long moment afterwards.

When my vision cleared, a magnificent caravel bobbed in the cove. Its hull was crafted from gleaming mother-of-pearl, its railings of polished silver, and its sails of the finest golden silk. It was a ship fit for Fae royalty, breathtakingly beautiful and utterly otherworldly.

A long golden gangplank extended out over the waves and grounded in dry sand. Those boarding the ship wouldn’t even have to get their feet wet.

As the spell-song ended, I saw that Gwydion and Branwen were panting and visibly drained. Gwydion caught my eye and managed a tired smile.

“Quickly now,” he urged, his voice strained. “Everyone aboard. This ship will hold its form until high noon. After that, it will revert to a simple raft.”

No one moved. The men-at-arms shifted uneasily from foot to foot, studying the ship with a mixture of awe and apprehension. No one wanted to be the first to set foot on a vessel created by magic.

I strode forward, my boots sinking into the soft sand. “There’s no time to waste,” I declared. “Follow me.”

I heard murmurs behind me, but I didn’t look back. Instead, I kept my gaze fixed on the Fae ship, my heart pounding in my chest as I took the first step onto the gleaming gold gangplank.

It felt solid beneath my feet as I crossed over to the ship.

Alighting on the deck, it felt as real and sturdy as any ship I had ever sailed on. I turned to face the beach and waved them aboard.

Gwydion and Princess Branwen were the next to come aboard, followed by Lord Mariota and Lady Karminn.

One by one, nine guardsmen followed Captain Ondine onto the gangplank, their faces set with grim determination.

We’d agreed that Alondra would ride with Boreas, carrying her bow and a quiver filled with arrows, and strapped securely to the saddle on his back. She’d always been an excellent shot and had excelled in hunting deer back home in Frankia.

Behind her rode three of the men-at-arms, equipped with crossbows and bundles of javelins.

And of course, we had Boreas and his Dragon fire at our disposal as well. He was eagerly stretching his wings to prepare for flight.

Gwydion and Branwen had just retracted the ship’s gangplank when the three Djinni nobles swooped from the sky in a flurry of vibrant silks and glittering jewels.

Their magic carpets came to a stop and hovered effortlessly a hands-breadth above the sand. Prince Arslan, sitting cross-legged at the front of one carpet, and resplendent in a long-sleeved embroidered tunic and feathered cap, gestured at his sisters and their passengers.

“We are ready.” His voice carried across the water to the ship as if by magic.

Mage Armand and Mage Bevitrice sat quietly in the center of the carpets. We had agreed late yesterday that the two mages should ride with the Djinni. Their expressions were a mix of excitement and trepidation. Mage Armand sat on Prince Arslan’s carpet, and Bevitrice sat behind Princess Karima. A pair of crossbowmen rode on Princess Layla’s carpet.

Just as we were about to depart, a familiar figure strode onto the beach, his barrel chest and gray mutton chops unmistakable. It was Castellan Guisbald.

“Ilhan,” he called, waving. “Good luck today, my lord.” Then he turned to address the rest of the group gathered on the deck of the ship and seated on Boreas’ back. “May the Twelve Gods watch over you all. Bring our princess back safely.”

I nodded, my throat tight with emotion. “We won’t fail, Castellan. I swear it.”

Guisbald stepped back, his gaze sweeping over the assembled rescuers. I turned to face them all, my heart swelling with pride and purpose.

“It’s time,” I said, my voice ringing out clear and strong. “To your positions, everyone. We launch on my command.”

I strode to the helm of the Fae ship.

I took a deep breath, the salty tang of the sea air filling my lungs. The moon was low on the horizon and the wind whipped at my cloak.

Sudden doubts assailed me. Did I forget anything? Did we miss something important?

If not, it was too late now.

“Launch!” I cried, my voice carried away by the wind.

And with that, we were off, the Fae ship cutting through the choppy waves, Boreas soaring overhead, the magic carpets darting alongside us like brightly colored birds.