Page 21 of Cursed Dreams (Shadow and Dreams #1)

His white-silver hair fell around them in wild, tousled strands, framing his sharp, inhumanly beautiful face. The strands caught the dim light of the moon, making him look almost ethereal, like some untamed god who had stepped straight out of an old text.

“Thalia,” he warned, his voice gravelly, strained, his forehead dropping to hers. “I barely have control of myself this close to Solstice.”

Solstice?

The name flickered in her mind, a brief moment of confusion. But then his scent, his warmth, the feel of him drowned out everything else.

Because he was looking at her like he wanted to devour her whole.

Then his mouth was on hers.

Not gentle. Not soft.

It was fire and hunger and pure, unrelenting need.

Thalia gasped into his kiss, but he took the sound, took everything, his lips slanting over hers, his tongue licking into her mouth, teasing, claiming.

She matched him, heat surging between them, her hands sliding up into his thick, white-silver hair, tugging slightly, making him growl against her lips.

Gods.

She had never been kissed like this.

Never wanted anything like this.

Never burned like this.

Thalia’s breath came in ragged pants as Vaelith pressed her back into the rough stone wall, his powerful body caging her in.

Heat rolled off him in waves, his molten gold eyes searing into hers with an intensity that sent a shiver straight down her spine.

His hands gripped her thighs, spreading her wide around him, keeping her exactly where he wanted her.

“You have no idea what you do to me,” he rasped, voice low, strained, vibrating with barely restrained hunger.

She swallowed hard, her pulse a frantic rhythm against the column of her throat.

She could feel him, solid and unrelenting, pressing against her core, teasing, tormenting with nothing but his proximity.

Her breath hitched as he dragged his nose along the curve of her neck, inhaling deeply, his lips ghosting over her skin.

“I can still feel you,” he murmured, a dark confession against her ear.

“From that damn ride to the city, your perfect little ass grinding against me, making me hard for days.” His teeth grazed the sensitive flesh of her throat, and she gasped, hands fisting in the fabric of his tunic. “You left me aching, desperate.”

His words sent a rush of heat through her, pooling low in her belly, making her throb with want.

She arched against him instinctively, her body seeking friction, something to relieve the unbearable tension winding tight inside her.

His answering growl was pure wickedness, his fingers digging into her flesh as if he was on the edge of losing himself.

Thalia had never seen him like this, unrestrained, wild, burning for her. The way he looked at her, as if she was something he wanted to devour, sent a thrill through her veins.

“Vaelith,” she breathed, fingers tracing over the hard muscles of his shoulders, down his arms, feeling the sheer strength coiled beneath his skin. His silver, white hair fell around his face, framing those otherworldly glowing eyes, making him look both untamed and wild.

His mouth crashed against hers without warning, hot and demanding. She met him with equal fire, fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer, deeper. His tongue swept against hers, tasting her, claiming her, and she moaned into the kiss, her entire body igniting like kindling to his flame.

He rocked against her, slow and deliberate, sending sparks of pleasure shooting through her.

One of his hands trailed beneath her dress, fingers grazing over the bare skin of her thigh, teasing, tormenting.

She gasped as he cupped her firmly, his fingers brushing against the heat of her, exploring with aching slowness.

“You’re already soaked for me,” he murmured against her lips, voice thick with satisfaction, his fingers gliding over the damp fabric between them. “Gods, you feel perfect.”

Thalia’s head fell back against the wall, pleasure arching through her as his touch sent fire licking up her spine. Her grip on his shoulders tightened, nails digging in as she writhed against him, seeking more, needing more.

“Tell me you want this,” he demanded, his voice rough, barely tethered to control.

She met his gaze, her chest rising and falling in shallow breaths. “I do.”

A slow, wicked smile curled his lips. “Then hold on tight.”

Vaelith’s grip on her tightened, his strong hands possessive as they roamed over her body, pressing her further against the cool stone wall.

His breath was hot against her neck, each ragged inhale sending shivers down her spine.

He pulled aside her underwear and slipped his fingers inside her, Thalia panted.

His fingers moved with deliberate precision, teasing, stroking, driving her higher until she was trembling in his grasp.

"That's it," he murmured against her skin, his voice thick with hunger and satisfaction. "Let me feel you."

Thalia gasped, her body strung tight, her fingers digging into his shoulders.

The sheer force of him, his presence, his heat, the way his body moulded perfectly against hers, had her spiralling toward the edge.

He kissed a path along her throat, open-mouthed and hot, his tongue flicking over the sensitive spot just beneath her ear, sending bolts of pleasure shooting through her.

Her breath hitched as he whispered against her pulse, his voice dark and rich. "You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this."

She barely registered his words, lost in the overwhelming sensation of him.

Her nails scraped along the nape of his neck, and she heard the low growl that rumbled in his chest, felt the way his body tensed in response.

He was barely holding himself together, and the knowledge sent a rush of heat through her.

"Vaelith, " she gasped, her voice breaking as he pushed her higher, his name slipping from her lips like a plea.

"Give in to me, Thalia," he demanded, his silver-white hair brushing against her cheek as he pressed his forehead against hers. His golden eyes burned into her, molten, consuming, and just when she thought she couldn’t take any more, his fingers pressed just in the right spot, his touch searing through her.

The pleasure broke over her like a crashing wave, stealing her breath, leaving her boneless in his arms. Her body arched against him, her cry muffled against his shoulder as she shattered. Stars exploded behind her eyes, every nerve alight as she clung to him, lost in the storm of sensation.

Vaelith didn’t move for a long moment, his breath uneven, his body taut against hers as if he were barely restraining himself from taking more. Slowly, his hand eased from between them, trailing a path of fire down her thigh before gripping her waist, holding her steady.

When she finally opened her eyes, his were still locked on her, a smirk playing at the edges of his lips. "That was beautiful," he murmured, voice like dark velvet.

Thalia’s cheeks burned, her body still trembling in the aftermath. She tried to find her voice, but all she could do was stare at him, chest heaving, lips parted. She had never felt anything like this, like she had been unravelled and put back together in his hands.

And from the way he was looking at her, with hunger still darkening his gaze, she knew this was far from over. Her hands slid down his trousers feeling his impressive length bulge. He groaned at her touch, now she needed him now .

The sound of Cellen’s voice calling her name shattered the moment.

Thalia stiffened in Vaelith’s arms, her breath still uneven, her body still humming with the aftermath of his touch desperate for more. Vaelith let out a sharp curse under his breath, his grip on her waist tightening for a brief second before he sighed, his forehead resting against hers.

Then, with an aching gentleness that contradicted the fire that had just burned between them, he pressed his lips to hers, a slow, lingering kiss that sent warmth curling through her once more. There was something in it, something that felt like a promise.

When he pulled away, his thumb brushed over her cheek. “Forgive me in the morning,” he murmured.

Before she could question him, before she could even fully process his words, he lifted her effortlessly and set her back down on the ground, steadying her as her legs threatened to give out beneath her.

Thalia blinked, trying to catch her breath, but when she looked up, he was already gone. The shadows in the alley seemed to shift, as if swallowing him whole, he disappeared into the darkness.

A cold breeze swept over her skin, a stark contrast to the heat that had just consumed her, confusion crashed over her like a tidal wave.

What just happened?

She touched her lips, still swollen from his kiss, her heart pounding.

She had felt something, seen something. His eyes.

They had turned golden, molten, burning with something almost…

unnatural. And the shadows, he had moved through them as though they were a part of him, as though he commanded them.

Celestial magic.

Only the High Fae had celestial magic.

Thalia’s stomach twisted. Was Vaelith… High Fae?

“Thalia!”

The voice was closer now, and a moment later, Nyla, Marand, and Cellen stumbled into view at the entrance of the alley.

“There you are!” Nyla huffed, planting her hands on her hips. “We’ve been looking everywhere for you!”

Thalia forced herself to snap out of it, shaking her head quickly. “I just needed some fresh air,” she lied, her voice slightly breathless.

Cellen narrowed his eyes at her, stepping closer. “You look a little… flushed.” His lips curled into a knowing smirk. “You sure you were just getting fresh air?”

Heat flared in her cheeks, and she swatted at his arm. “Yes,” she said quickly, far too quickly.

Marand arched a delicate brow, exchanging a glance with Nyla. “We were just about to head back to the temple,” she said, clearly sceptical. “You coming?”

Thalia hesitated, her mind still spinning, but she nodded. “Yeah. Let’s go.”

As they walked, her friends pestered her with questions.

“So?” Cellen drawled, waggling his brows. “What happened with our dear Lord Vaelith?”

Thalia flushed again, crossing her arms. “I have more questions than answers,” she admitted, her voice quieter now, the weight of her thoughts settling in.

Cellen snorted. “I bet you do.”

Nyla swatted him. “Leave her alone, Cellen.”

“Fine, fine,” he sighed dramatically. “But only because I’m feeling charitable tonight.”

They moved on, the conversation shifting, but Thalia couldn’t shake the feeling that still lingered in her chest.

As they reached the temple gates, she glanced back, an odd sensation prickling at the back of her neck. And there, in the shadows of the street, stood Vaelith.

His eyes silver once more locked onto hers, his expression unreadable.

Something inside her twisted, her heart sinking slightly,

Just as quickly as he had appeared, he turned and vanished into the night.