Page 28 of A Song of Air (Fae Elementals #4)

T he night was lonely . Even as noises of nature consumed her surroundings, Bryson felt an aching, bone-deep sensation of abandonment curdling through her. Even her familiar had flown off with a ruffle of her brown and black feathers, unable to stand Bryson’s somber mood. Malika was off somewhere arguing with her sister and Ev was with Arlo, strategizing and cursing the Resistance, she assumed.

She never realized how alone she actually was until these past few days.

It felt like her entire world had imploded around her. Everything had tilted on an uneven axis, and she was trying to balance herself and avoid the dangerous fall. But she was failing.

The pressure on her chest increased, and the sensation of tears pricked behind her eyelids. She refused to cry. She hadn’t done so in years; she wouldn’t do so now. She furiously rubbed against her eyelids, palms scraping against the scars spread across her skin.

The sudden urge to curse at the sky gripped her, but she stewed in silence instead, letting the wind ruffle her curls. Her own magic bubbled up inside her, looking for release. If she set it free now, she was sure to tear the tree house from its perch and tumble to the ground.

She’d meant to sit up there to find peace, but the night brought anything but.

Bryson looked up at the canopy of leaves, squinting into the night. Her temples began pounding, a dull throb that spread across her forehead and to the backs of her eyeballs.

“It’s just stress,” she whispered to herself, though she knew that wasn’t true. Her eyesight was worsening. She felt it every year, how it was increasingly harder to see. At first it had been at a distance, gradually becoming blurrier up close as well. She lived through a haze of fog, and when the headaches began, she knew it could only ever get worse before it got better.

There was no fixing her sight. There was no healing the ache.

She sighed again just as footsteps sounded from down below. Bryson closed her eyes, listening to the pattern of them against the ground. Her whole body tensed as if primed for a fight. She recognized those footsteps as they approached her tree and began to climb. The scent of them only got stronger as they hauled themselves to the top.

She didn’t move as he settled at her side. In fact, she made it very obvious she was ignoring him.

Everette sighed. “Bryce...” There was silence, almost as if he were waiting for her to fill it.

With what? What could she possibly have to say to him that she hadn’t already? Anytime she spoke these days, she was met with his anger and disdain. Met with venomous words that just filled her with guilt, even when she’d done nothing wrong.

She’d contemplated it as she sat there hours previously. Everything that had happened with the Resistance, with Weylyn. She’d made mistakes, most of them internal. Entertaining Weylyn’s mental conversations, letting him get into her head. But anything else had been out of her hands. Her body’s reaction to Weylyn was primal, rooted from a bond she hadn’t expected. It had caught her off guard, and her reactions to him had been knee-jerkingly quick.

But Bryson was loyal. She had been loyal. And if Ev refused to believe that, to see that, it was his problem. She would no longer beg him to understand. She would no longer lay herself bare only to be kicked emotionally over and over.

If there was one thing Weylyn had been right about, it was that. Ev was taking his anger out on her, and she was the last person in this camp that deserved it.

“Bryce, will you look at me?”

She didn’t respond. Didn’t open her eyes. If he had something he wanted to say, he could do so. And then leave.

She wanted to be alone.

Ev sighed again. “Bryson, I’m sorry, alright?” He made a frustrated sound. “I’ve been an asshole to you.”

Bryson made a snorting noise of agreement.

“I have no excuse for my behavior. I was threatened by that Fae, and in my jealousy, I took it out on you. I can’t apologize enough for that. You didn’t deserve it, and I don’t deserve you.” There was silence, the rustle of his clothes. “Bryson, can you please look at me?”

Slowly, Bryson opened her eyes and found him staring down at her. This close, she could see the distress he wore like a second skin. It made his expression look severe. She wondered if his distress and regret should have made her happy.

It just made her feel hollow.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated. “I’m insecure. I wanted to, I don’t know, prove that I was just as strong, just as worthy as your mate.”

“Stupid,” Bryson replied. “I don’t even know him. Who’s to say if he’s even worthy or not?”

“I know that now.” His hand came down on her cheek, soft as his thumb stroked her skin. “Being human while you’re Fae is not easy. I’m aware of the power imbalance between us. I feel like I have to work twice as hard to keep up with you. Then this Fae shows up and all those insecurities grew three times as big, and I felt like I had even more to prove.”

Bryson let out a breath. “Stupid.”

His eyes shone in the darkness; his hair fell over his cheeks. “Can you forgive me?”

Could she? Her answer came quickly. She could. Everette had so many faults, but this wasn’t something he’d ever done before. To be honest, it wasn’t something they’d ever had to navigate before. They’d both been way out of their element with this entire situation. Neither of them could’ve predicted any of it. They’d both been caught off guard.

She could forgive him for what he’d done. So long as he didn’t do it again.

“Okay,” she said softly.

Ev let out a breath of relief. He leaned down, hair tickling her skin as he pressed a slow, soft kiss to her mouth. “I hate fighting,” he whispered.

“Me too.”

“Why fight when we could spend our time doing much more enjoyable things?” His voice had dropped low, sultry, leaving no room to guess what it was he wanted.

That familiar dull ache spread behind her eyes.

“I miss us,” Ev went on. He rolled over her, settling his weight comfortably above, holding himself up by his hands. “Before everything turned chaotic.”

“Hmm.”

What he meant to say was that he missed how things were before the Resistance showed up at their camp. She wouldn’t agree because she wasn’t sure she felt the same thing. If they hadn’t, she wouldn’t have discovered how important she—and her magic—was for the world. She wouldn’t have met other Elementals. Malika never would have found her sister.

By the grace of Mana, this was meant to happen.

Ev just couldn’t see it yet.

His palm cupped her cheek, and he gazed down at her with open adoration. For a moment, he breathed her in, closing the distance between them. “I love you, Bryson,” he whispered.

Bryson closed her eyes against the onslaught of feelings his words caused. So many things warred inside of her at once. She couldn’t reply. She couldn’t say anything. Or maybe Ev just didn’t give her a chance to, because between one moment and the next, his lips were tight against hers and he was devouring with an almost desperation that made her skin spark with desire.

She opened her mouth against his, letting their tongues tangle together. He blanketed his body with hers, pressing his hardness against her core. For a moment, she let herself feel. Let herself forget.

If only for a moment.

Bryson leaned into him, her fingers grasping against the hem of his shirt and sliding it up his muscular body. Her hands toyed with his skin, fingers scraping over the flesh at his back. She held back the urge to dig her nails in. Held herself back from being too rough. Too aggressive.

They broke apart to draw breath. Her neck angled to the side and Ev’s teeth scraped against her skin. She gasped as his teeth nipped her. Her hips thrust up to meet his, and he grinded down hard.

They became a desperate tangle, pawing at each other’s clothes, yet couldn’t get them off fast enough. The distance placed between them these past few days had taken its toll, and now they were coming together again, clicking into place where they should’ve been, exactly how they were meant to be.

Ev’s hands slid up her skin, shoving her shirt out of the way so he could bare her chest to the cool night air. The breeze made her nipples harden, and then his mouth was there to ease that ache. His lips clamped over her, tongue laving it up like a feast. One, then the other, Ev gave equal attention to both.

Bryson wriggled beneath him, needing friction, needing mindless thrusts. She wanted to feel the pain of the wood against her back. She wanted that pinch, the bite, to drown and choke on mindless pleasure for a little while.

“Fuck,” Ev cursed against her skin. “Fuck, Bryson. Take me out.”

Her hands were steady as they pulled at the strings against his pants before she slipped inside, grasping his cock at the base. Everette jerked against her tight hold, and she firmly stroked up and down, careful not to squeeze too hard, lest she hurt him in her grip.

Ev grunted in her ear, his own hands fumbling to shove her pants down. Once he managed, his calloused fingers slid over the folds of her lips, smearing her wetness against her clit, causing her to jolt at the small zing of pleasure.

“Put me inside you,” Ev urged.

Bryson brought his tip against her entrance right before removing her hands. Ev surged inside in a single thrust, and her back slid against the wood. It wasn’t the full grip of pain she desired, but it would ease the ache.

She thrust her hips up. “Move,” she ordered.

Ev did. His hips snapped hard against hers while his mouth came crashing down on her neck. He nipped and sucked and clamped his teeth down on the most sensitive part of her neck. It was soft at first, but he slowly increased the pressure of his bite like he was trying to break the skin.

“Ev...” Bryson’s hands grasped at his shoulders. “What are you—”

He’d never bitten her before. Not like that. A bite between couples, particularly if one was Fae, felt... sacred. And Ev knew that.

He pulled away, licking the spot he’d marked. She felt the sting of his abrasion, but he hadn’t torn into her. “I want to mark you,” he declared, thrusting harder. “I want to bite you. I want—fuck—Bryson!” His hips snapped harder, and he dropped his mouth to her neck once more. “ I want to be your mate.”

The words were so shocking, Bryson jolted against him, eyes widening. He didn’t notice her shock. He was pounding against her, his breathing growing heavier and heavier. He didn’t try to clamp down again. Almost as if he were waiting for her permission. Almost as if he were waiting for her to agree.

“Silly human.”

Bryson gasped as that sultry voice drifted through her mind. For a second, her soul felt suspended as the breeze blew that spicy, warm, addictive scent in her direction. It consumed her more than the heat of any fire ever could. It wrapped around her in an embrace that she was too weak to fight.

Her eyes opened, and through the blur of darkness and leaves and branches, she caught a flash of gold.

Of him.

Then she was disappearing into her mind once more. There was nothing but darkness there. Darkness and the sensual threat of his presence. Phantom hands slid down her back, making Bryson shiver.

“Silly, foolish human. Trying to mark you while he ruts you.”

Bryson’s cheeks heated at the cruel, crude words Weylyn spat. There was an undercurrent of anger to them, and yet they remained dark and provocative.

She was well aware she’d drifted deep into the dark recesses of Weylyn’s magic. She could no longer feel what was happening in her own body. Couldn’t feel Everette fucking her, trying to bite her as if a bond between them could ever take place. She knew nothing of the reality.

She only knew this.

“Does he not know that you are mine?”

She felt a hand at her back, pushing her into that place where this dream and reality collided. So she could almost feel him.

“You are mine, little mate.”

Suddenly, the vision faded. She was thrust back into reality. Back on that tree house. With the air caressing her fevered skin, teeth at her neck, and hips snapping rapidly against hers.

Bryson let out a breath of relief when she no longer saw a flash of gold, hiding and spying from the trees. Maybe he’d left. Maybe Weylyn had gone.

Everette pulled away, staring down at her...

Bryson bit her tongue to hold back a scream as Everette’s face morphed, shifted, changed, and the features she’d come to know became someone else. Someone new.

Everette became Weylyn.

She gasped as he rose above her, his long braid swaying gently over his shoulder as he slowed his thrusts into sensual undulations. The sudden change of pace and pressure, even the change of the feel of that cock inside her, had Bryson gasping, reaching her hands out to grasp tightly at Weylyn’s shoulders.

He smiled down at her, golden eyes flashing in the night. His canines extended and everything about him was filled with malice and carnal desires.

“You are mine to claim,” he whispered. His sharp scent permeated through her senses, making her head spin and her mind dizzy. “You are mine to fuck .”

Bryson knew she should shove him away. She had to. This was a vision. This wasn’t real. Reality was different. Not this crazy fantasy he’d summoned and forced on her. But it didn’t matter how hard Bryson tried to fight her way out, she remained frozen.

And she feared it was by her own volition.

Weylyn’s hands splayed over her body. His every touch was slow and deliberate, much like everything else he did. He touched her with purpose. It wasn’t fast and eager. He moved like he had all the time in the world. Like this wasn’t a vision. Like he wasn’t invading a private moment. He commanded her body like he owned it.

His ministrations held her immobile for the briefest of moments. Her breathing grew labored, and she could only watch as he slowly divested her of her shirt completely. His gaze heated, golden eyes flashing black as he took in her nudity from the waist up. His gaze then dropped down to where they were joined. Where he’d stopped thrusting, only to observe the way his cock speared her pussy open. Where their juices mingled, creating a sharp smell of desire that consumed Bryson’s senses.

“See how you are made for me, little mate? See how well you fit on my cock?”

He thrust against her. Slow. Hard. So hard she skidded against the wood and finally, finally, she felt that bite of pain she so desired. The roughness against the skin at her back. The pinch in between her thighs.

She needed to pull out of this vision now.

She needed to go back to Everette. She was with him . Not with Weylyn. This was wrong .

Her hand snapped up, circling Weylyn’s neck. The Fae only arched it, giving her easier access to clamp her fingers tightly around him.

“Are you going to try and kill me?” he taunted.

“Yes.” The reply was too breathless as it left her lips.

“You can try, little mate.” His nails dug deep into her hips, and he angled her just right so he could thrust once more. “But I am going to fuck you first.”

Bryson growled, gripping him tighter. She thrust up, meeting the snap of his hips. Her body curled and suddenly they were moving, whirling on the wood, so that she had him pinned beneath her. And somehow, through all that roughness, they still managed to stay joined at the waist.

His hands never once left her hips, and that smile never once diminished. “You are my mate, Bryson Varik. Whether you want to be or not.”

Bryson shouted as he surged up inside her. She wanted to pull away. She should have pulled away. But in this position, she felt everything. Every pulsing beat of his cock stretching her from the inside. She was full, so full in the most delicious way possible, in ways she’d never been before.

She wanted to hop off him. Truly, she did. But she was weak. Too weak to resist when he was giving her everything she’d ever wanted. Pain and pleasure. The agony was drowned out by waves that crested and consumed. Every rough touch she ever desired, he granted, and she was too weak to say no. She was too far gone to even want to deny him what he would take either way.

So instead of fighting it, Bryson silenced the voice of reason in her head. She silenced the fears and the logic. She silenced everything that didn’t serve her except her own pleasure, and she let herself feel . For once, the anger she had nothing to do with found its outlet, and Bryson began to move against Weylyn. Every jerk of her hips conveyed her rage, her frustration. All it did was cause the Fae to smile. Like he would be the receptor of whatever she unleashed, and he’d eat it with a smile on his face.

“Yesss,” he hissed, his hands sliding up to cup her breasts. “Fuck me like you despise me. Let me feel your hatred. I will turn it into love.”

She moved her hips, faster and faster, choking his throat until it constricted his airway. Until his words cut off. But the laughter persisted. Loud and wild, it echoed around them as his own hips lifted to meet hers with every jerk, every move. It created a friction between their bodies that pressed against her clit. Every stroke drove her higher and higher. Every touch was a claim, every word was a promise, and every surge of his cock inside her was a threat.

Her pleasure mounted dangerously high. She should pull away, Bryson thought. She had to, now before she fell over that edge. Before they went past that point of no return. Her more reasonable voice tried to rear its head, but before she could, Weylyn’s fingers came down right where their bodies were joined, thumbing that sensitive nub, causing her palms to slap down against his chest.

Just like that, she lost all thoughts once again. Her nails dug hard into his flesh, drawing a thin line of blood. With him, she didn’t have to worry about how hard or how rough she got. It was freeing. Her thighs clamped around him as she brutalized his chest, marking him with her nails in retaliation for every mischievous deed like this was a punishment. Her insides quaked, and as he thrust, her walls tightened around him...

Weylyn surged up. Like lightning, he was laying down one moment and then up the next, pressing their chests tightly together. He breathed her in, and she did the same with him. His smell of something spicy and sweet intermingled in her nose. It should have been too sharp for her senses, and yet she found herself inhaling it into her system, pulling it deep into her lungs and moaning .

“I will claim you, little mate,” Weylyn whispered against her neck. His tongue darted against her pulse and the nip of his canines made her shudder. “One way or another.”

Bryson shattered. Her orgasm slammed over her, and she opened her mouth to scream. Her eyes slammed shut against the onslaught of surprising rapture that coursed through her. She grinded against his body, chasing that violent release, looking to get lost in that void. He shuddered beneath her just as violently, and when their trembles ebbed, Bryson slowly peeled her eyes open.

“Wow,” Ev whispered, his eyes wide with surprise, wonder, and blissful release.

Bryson let out a soft gasp and pulled away. Reality settled within seconds. The harsh truth of what she’d done. Every movement, every touch... It had been with Everette, and yet it felt like it hadn’t been with him at all. Like it’d been with her—

With Weylyn .

“Wow,” Ev whispered again. His dark hair was tousled wildly, and when she looked down, she saw the marks of her claws against his chest, the blood running against his skin.

“I—I’m s-sorry—” Bryson felt like she couldn’t breathe.

“Oh, this? I liked it. You’ve never... you’ve never been so wild before. Fuck, that was...” He let out a breathy chuckle and leaned close to nuzzle her cheek with his chin.

Touching him felt like a betrayal. Being in his arms made her feel like a fraud. A chasm opened up in her chest and she could feel herself falling into it. The truth of what she’d done glared at her, and Ev... Ev was looking at her like she held up his world. If only he knew that she never would have done that to him had she known. She never would have marked him so violently. The only reason she’d done it was because she thought he’d been someone else.

And that felt like the greatest sense of treachery of all.

Bryson had always valued her loyalty. Everything she was crashed down within in an instant. At the single sign of anger and pleasure, she’d let herself go.

And had inadvertently hurt Everette in the process.

Bryson pulled away from him, grasping blindly at her clothes to cover herself. Her body still hummed with the aftereffects of her own release, but when Ev’s softening cock slid out from inside her, she didn’t feel a hollow ache. Didn’t feel like she missed him inside her at all.

What have I done?

Her eyes stung with tears, and this time she couldn’t stop them as they fell.

“Hey, Bryce.” Ev reached for her, his touch gentle and reverent. She flinched away. Undeserving of his affection, of the love he so readily gave her. “What’s wrong? Did I do something? Did I hurt you?”

She let out a laugh of disbelief.

If only he knew. If only he knew that the whole time they’d been joined together, she’d imagined someone else in his stead. She’d pictured someone else. She’d been fucking someone else. And the worst part about it was that she’d known. She’d known what she was doing, and a deep, dark part of her would do it again.

Weylyn had satisfied her in the confines of her own mind. He’d played her body like an instrument, wrought something she’d never felt before. He’d created more pleasure within her own thoughts than Everette ever could with his entire body. The guilt of those thoughts was immediate; she drowned in it.

That wasn’t supposed to happen. She wasn’t supposed to give in to him, no matter how much she liked it. And if Ev ever found out about what she’d done and she lost him forever?

She’d only ever have herself to blame.