Page 90 of Brimstone

But he shook his head more firmly this time. “I have no idea if any of this is real. But if it is, we don’t have any idea where we are, Osha. I don’t understand any of this, but I’m gonna damn well make sure my head’s on straight if I need to react quickly. I’m not about to let anything happen to you here.”

I would have kneed a guy in the balls for saying that back in Zilvaren. The idea that any man considered me incapable of taking care of myself atanypoint would have had me seeing red. With Fisher, it just wasn’t that simple.

“It’s very rude of you to make me feel so good and . . . deny me the opportunity to . . . return the favor.” Whew.Somany words.

Fisher leaned his weight on one elbow, lifting his injured hand for me to see it now. “Idofeel good. Much better than I did.” He flexed his hand, demonstrating that he had full range of movement again. The scuffs at his knuckles were gone. His hand was completely healed. “And this?” His lips parted, his eyes shuttering as he slowly . . . slowly . . .slowlyslid himself inside me. “This feels fucking incredible, Saeris. I don’t need to be bitten to enjoythis.”

The embers of pleasure that had been smoldering in my stomach rekindled, roaring back to life. I was sofullof him. Fisher shook as he held himself over me, his teeth scraping over his bottom lip. I lived for the moment when his eyes lost focus and his eyelids closed. He had existed for entire lifetimes before I’d even been born. He had won battles and defeated enemy forces that far outnumbered his own, the odds ever stacked against him. He had seen the rise and fall of monarchs, bargained for his life with monsters, fought off countless demons, and never backed down.

It was here in the quiet and the dark withmethat he surrendered.

Blood beaded on his bottom lip when he released it from his mouth. A thin crimson trail chased down his chin.

“You’re bleeding,” I whispered.

He hung his head, laughing a little as he nodded. “Sometimes, a male needs a little pain to push back the pleasure, Saeris Fane.” He ran his tongue over his bottom lip. It came away red. “Especiallywhen his mate is this fucking incredible.”

He fell on me, then. Rocking his hips back, he slammed himself home, burying himself all the way to the hilt inside me. The flames dancing atop the candles on the table flared, growingtaller, the air buzzing with power as he drew back and did it again.

“Kiss me. Please. Hold me down and fuck me.”

A dangerous growl rolled at the back of his throat. He didn’t speak out loud or into my mind. He did as I bid him and fucked me. This time, I clung to him, fingernails digging into his back, and he rode out his climax right along with me. The walls of the cottage trembled as we both came, and for one timeless second, reality—or nonreality—sank away, and we floated on a sea of nothingness.

We held each other for a long time, listening to the wood snap in the hearth as the fire died. Out of the window, the world was all darkness and quiet.

“There’s no one out there,” Fisher said eventually. His voice got so deep when he was tired; the bass tenor of it resonated in my bones. His eyes were closed, which gave me leave to study his features in detail. His eyelashes were long and black, like strokes of ink against his pale skin. The frown that often marred his brow was nowhere to be seen. He was always so intense when we were around others. On edge. Ready for a fight. History had proven to him that he had to be ready—but now, here, he was languid and relaxed.

I traced the outline of his wolf’s head tattoo lightly with my fingertips, drinking him in like this. He was so fucking beautiful.

I pressed my lips to his chest, kissing him just above his nipple, and Fisher made a contented humming sound. “How can you tell?” I asked him. “That we’re alone.”

He shifted, rolling onto his back, taking me with him so that I wound up lying on top of his chest. He wrapped his arms around me, resting his chin on the top of my head. “I don’t know. It’s an ability most warriors develop over the years. A sensitivity. If you close down everything else in your mind and reach out, you can feel if there are other creatures close by. It’s like listening veryhard. Or straining to see something in the distance. I’m sure you can do it, too.”

I couldn’t say that I’d ever noticed that sensation, but it sounded easy enough.

Fisher stroked his hand absently up and down my side, breathing softly into my hair. His heart beat out a slow, reassuring rhythm beneath my ear. This was the most relaxed I had been in my entire life. I knew that with a certainty. Even in Ballard, the outside world had intruded upon our time together in the little apartment above the square. The smell of roasting coffee and buttery pastries had been divine, but it had also signaled that there were others out there, in the bakery below, roasting the coffee and baking the bread. For now, I couldn’t scan the valley the way Fisher could, but I knew that he was right. The world was ours, here in this place. And I didnotwant that to end.

“Strange how we can be tired here, while we already sleep,” Fisher said drowsily. “To fall asleep within a dream is to commune with the gods.”

“Is that true?”

He laughed quietly, his breath stirring my hair. “Yvelia is full of strangeness. Who knows. Maybe it was once the way of things. But now? I don’t intend on finding out. I’ve had enough run-ins with those bastards. I don’t need to spend a single second more with them, thank you very much.” He took a deep breath, his rib cage lifting me as it expanded. “Are you hungry, Little Osha?”

I groaned in protest as he rolled onto his side, setting me back down again onto the welter of blankets. “Mm. Yes. I suppose so.” I hadn’t drunk from him tonight, but he had drunk deeply from me. The loss of blood made me hungrier than I had felt since I’d woken up in Ammontraíeth. But . . . “But I’d rather just stay here, curled up with you,” I mumbled.

“Ahh. Come, Osha.” He peppered the side of my face with light kisses. “What kind of mate would I be if I didn’t tend toallof your appetites?”

“You could feel my stomach growling, couldn’t you?” I groaned.

“Mm-hm.” Gently, he swept my messy hair out of my face, tucking it behind my ear. “I still need to hear what’s been happening back in Ammontraíeth,” he reminded me. “You can tell me all about it over a bowl of stew.”

“So, right about the time I was punching a hole in the Third’s bell tower, you were blasting a hole in the side of the library in the Blood Court?” Kingfisher nodded, smiling at this, as if he found this symmetry between our days pleasing. I had told him about my meeting at the Fool’s Paradise with Taladaius, and while Fisher hadn’t said much about the fact that Tal wanted to publicly denounce me in front of the whole court, I could tell that he was both a little surprised and confused at the same time. His emotions over the news that Foley had been located at last were more difficult to read.

Fisher swirled his spoon in his bowl of stew, studying it hard. He sat cross-legged on the floor in front of the newly built fire, Onyx curled up into the triangle of space made by his legs. He hadn’t tried to stop the little fox from hopping into his lap. I’d caught him feeding him some of his stew earlier as well.

Fisher frowned, wearing a curious expression when he looked up at me. “How did he look? Foley? Is he well?”

“I didn’t know what he looked like before, I guess. He’s pale, but then heisa vampire. His hair is cropped short. His canines are plated with gold.”