Page 17

17

TOGETHER

I have no idea what I’m in for as I crawl up onto the large birch table in Baldur Siguresson’s studio. He watches me all the way, his dark blue eyes roving me now as I have to go on all fours upon the tabletop. It’s a carnal sensation to be up here in a decidedly sexual position, yet still have no idea what I’m doing here. Baldur doesn’t join me on the table, only watches.

Until I need instructions on what comes next.

“Am I just going to sit up here, or what?” I pause.

Hot and bothered, yet curious, all at once.

“Strip down. Lay on your front.” Baldur is calm as he speaks, but that scorching sensation from him hasn’t lessened. I feel it expand into the room now, though he’s got the deep, star-bright heat of his dragon controlled. He’s calm, even as his hot eyes pin me and his dragon rises, roiling through the solar. I lift an eyebrow at him, and he lifts one back.

In the sexiest standoff I’ve ever had.

Though a small part of me worries Baldur might lose control of his drake and force me to bond him, much like Mikkel, another part of me knows better .

I can feel Baldur has effortless control over his inner dragon; unlike Mikkel, he can let his Blood Magic roar and careen through this space without bonding me, crafting its star-hot brightness and rage into an incredible artistry I don’t even know the half of yet.

Because real control isn’t blocking our beast’s instincts; not like Mikkel has done for decades. Real control is moving with our dragon’s energy, shaping and crafting it into what we have a use for.

And Baldur’s been doing that for centuries.

Slowly, I strip down. It’s weird, because I’m not an exhibitionist, and I’m not into being ordered around by any drake.

Something about Baldur and this situation is tantalizingly perfect, however, as he watches, devouring me with his gaze. Heat careens between us in the room. It’s not just from his dragon powering up for whatever he’s going to do to get the False Knights’ curse out of me, but also from my own.

My inner Blood Magic drakaina has caught his scent of power and passion; she’s roaring through my veins now at the prospect of interacting with a truly powerful mate, one she very much wants to take as hers.

But a deep part of me is still fighting that this is my fate; I haul my bright drakaina back now, not yet ready to give in to mating Baldur and everything that might mean for my destiny, for good or for ill.

He sees it; I see the quirk of his lips as he feels me resist, and the hot darkening of his eyes, but he will not blast his magic through my resistance and force anything to happen between us.

Only tempt me, with everything he can do for me and my power.

It’s hot and maddening, as he gestures me down to the table. Making eye contact, I put a subtle warning in my gaze for him not to try anything stupid, then resume my all fours position and slowly lay down on my front.

The table is hard beneath me, but strangely warm; as if Baldur’s power has warmed the smooth birch wood, it’s comfortable as I lay on my belly and fold my hands beneath my cheek as a cushion .

But this isn’t a massage table, as I stretch my legs out now, getting as comfortable as I can be. It’s a place of power, as Baldur changes his magic into a deep flow all around me and the table, both.

Incredible blue and white sigils lighting up all over it now.

I startle as that powerful wave of magic happens, jerking my head up as I gaze down now at the amazing vortex that’s been activated beneath me, and all around.

Baldur’s scalding-cool starlight magic rushes around and through the table now like a river’s flow. He’s got it well controlled from eons of practice, and I feel how creating a magical vortex inside this room to heal someone on this table is something he’s done countless times.

But as that deep-hot whirlpool seizes me now, like a river’s glacial current with the warmest hot spring running through it, I feel it spiral up, right through me.

It sweeps me up inside its gargantuan flow as it spirals to the sky; far above, I feel that power harness not just the motion and flow of the earth and the water that rushes beneath the house and this table, but also the ancient movement of the aurora, visible through the skylights again as evening comes.

I’m caught in the power of the ages, as all that earth, water, and sky energy is harnessed for this ritual. And then Baldur adds fire, like the ancient thunder of stars being born.

Power explodes through me—my inner drakaina brightening like a comet, on fire with burning light.

As Baldur harnesses the ancient magic of the cosmos into our ritual, a heat so blistering rips through me that I jolt and cry out. Everything about Baldur is all about the light, I understand, as that incredible brightness breaks through me like a star going supernova now, ancient and uncontainable.

Baldur is the consummate light to Mikkel’s darkness; the brightness and fire I desperately need to finish balancing my inner drakaina and help Bjorn weather our bond’s Bone Magic .

Baldur has intimate control over his light, however. His connection to the stars complete, I feel him pull all that heat and brightness back now into a beautiful balance with the other elements.

Suddenly, our ritual has strength and depth, like the ancient movements of the cosmos itself. It’s then that I’m thrust into the dreamtime, my eyelids flickering shut as I sink back to my pillowed hands upon the table.

Baldur comes to me now, whispering his fingertips over my back.

Beautiful . So beautiful, he breathes in that ancient space we now occupy, as the entire Void of the cosmos expands around me. Because I’ve been taken right through the dreamtime and past the Veil by Baldur’s power—and he’s there with me, standing strong in it like the beautiful, bright leviathan he is.

Baldur may not be a Bloodwalker, but he’s got more ability in the Void than most Bloodwalkers ever could, I understand now. As he whispers his fingertips like fiery-cool paintbrushes over my skin, indulging touching me for a moment at the small of my back, I feel our connection made.

Fiery and deep, cool and controlled, the connection we already share is magnificent, as I see his Blood Magic drake coil up into the stars all around me.

Baldur looks like a galaxy being born, as his ancient Blood Magic drake surrounds me now in the Void. Blues and whites like gaseous clouds form his spreading mantle and coiling, sinuous body and tail; searing opal-gold, reds, and purples make up his strong talons, wing tips, and spikes.

But the most prominent color that spreads all through him is the vast, ultra-violet energy of the cosmos itself. Though he can’t speak with the Ancestors like I can, his aura has become one with that place, from practicing his own innate arts for centuries, honing them just so to help me right now.

And his sigildry is what gets him there. I see tens of thousands of ancient sigil-phrases I can’t even begin to translate flare up all around us in the cosmos now. Baldur traces them over my back, using his gentle fingertips as his brushes.

His very own dragon-aura his paint.

Slowly, he paints his ancient sigildric phrases over my skin with his fingertips. I feel them sink deep into my body, spreading out into my aura, one with the cosmos right now, as Baldur traces every part of my shoulders, ass, and back.

I see those sigils come alive on my skin and inside me, as I also see them spiral through my dragon-aura in the Void. I watch those curling, ancient runes paint me all over like blue woad; but it’s sky-blue and dark cerulean, midnight and bright star-white all at once, like Baldur’s dragon-coloring.

Gradually, his sigils paint themselves deep into my body as he works, until I see those beautiful sky-colors tracing through me, everywhere. As they fill my physical body, they fill my aura, as well; Baldur takes his time, stroking his fingertips over me like a lover’s touch, slow and intense, passionate yet intimate.

As he works, his dragon-aura coiling all around me in the stars, painting me as his earthly body does it down below, I can feel the immense restraint and power he’s built up for centuries.

It’s all so he could be here right now, so he could use himself, like the paint and brushes of the Creator itself, to help the drakaina he was destined for. Me, the person he believes will be the strongest Bloodwalker of this age, thanks to his sister’s visions.

The one woman he had to wait for—for millennia.

Don’t get me wrong. I hear his voice in my mind now, flowing into me effortlessly as he chuckles, though he continues to work. I’ve had plenty of drakainas over the years. A drake doesn’t live way out in the wilds, completely alone for millennia. My many lovers have come and gone, Rikyava, as I practiced this dance for centuries, waiting for you…

You’ve done this for many dragons, I note now, as we converse mind-to-mind while he works. You’ve healed a lot of your kin this way.

Yes. I feel him smile at me. I can see his face and body in my mind now as he moves around the table, still sliding his fingers over me. I have done this for many over the years, helping them heal and find a different fate, though I make them forget this place when they leave. But none of them were you, and so none of my healings have felt quite… this way. What I feel about you now.

As he speaks, I feel Baldur open up something inside himself. As if he simply opens a door, letting me in to his most personal space, I feel his emotions and sensations—what he’s feeling right now as he works—cascade through me for my perusal.

Amazement and sensuality fill me now from him, an intense awareness that he’s finally touching, finally helping, the one woman he was destined for. Everything about our encounter sets him alive and on fire with intimacy and passion. It’s all controlled so as to not let it spill over into me and force the bonded connection I’m still railing against, thanks to my stubborn battle with fate.

It’s as if Baldur can’t help sharing this part of himself with me now, however, to let me know what he’s feeling. As his sensations flood me, I feel how he still keeps all of his thoughts and emotions back from sweeping me away, still letting it be my choice if I bond him.

That one touch of his passion, his depth, and his feeling of blissful fulfillment from even being able to touch me and work on me in this moment, however, is enough. It sets everything inside me thrilling with a deep, hot surge of passion.

Flooding through me as if all the glaciers of the world suddenly melted to a falling star’s fiery burst.

My lips fall open as everything between us intensifies a hundredfold. I can’t remain still in it; I have to push up off the table, to roll over and arch, falling back to the table face up now, as my own hands begin to move and touch myself.

I cry out as Baldur’s fingertips skate lovingly over my chest and belly, continuing to work but also doing something else now. As I reach up and grip my fingers into my hair, shuddering and arching in waves on the table with an ecstasy I’ve never felt the likes of, I feel Baldur’s energy not just painting me in his usual healing, but easing deep into my core.

As if he can’t help himself, as if all of this is just too impossibly erotic for him, too, I feel him losing his long-practiced restraint. He’s crawling up onto the table with me now, though I feel him pause, then strip away his own clothing, until he’s naked, just like me.

As he crawls over me, every inch of his incredible starlight-blue and white tattoos blaze. He doesn’t let his lean, mean body touch me, however, as one hand brushes over me again.

I open my eyes to look up.

And see his dragon, vibrant in the Void, watching me.

Baldur’s blue eyes are dark as the cosmos now, and blazing as stars being born, as that ring of diamond-white shines around his irises. I feel his inner Blood Magic drake roil, blistering him deep inside as it surges in the cosmos, wanting so hard to take me.

Even though he’s crawled over me in this decidedly erotic position, butt-ass naked, just like me, Baldur still holds himself back. He’s breathing hard like me, though. His sinewy, strong chest heaves like a bellows as his muscles thrum with a powerful desire.

Passion scalding from his eyes.

He’s fully erect now as his fingertips smooth over the safe parts of my chest and belly, over and over. It’s a combination of his sigils, but also just needing this touch between us, as I lay beneath him and drink it all in, enraptured.

As I admire it, however, I feel how our healing has stalled, because this dynamic differs from anyone Baldur has worked with before. I feel his hesitation and hot eagerness both now, as he pauses above me.

Not knowing what comes next.

“Rikyava, it’s time for me to go deeper into your aura, so I can figure out what’s been done to you…” he murmurs now as he caresses me, holding himself up from touching me as he stares down at me with his dr agon’s eyes. I feel the deep vortex of his power, combined with the earth’s energies and the cosmos, pull at me now, as it heaves all around me.

And shakes—deliciously.

The heaving is like Baldur’s breath as he watches me, the shaking like the tremble of his lean, powerful muscles as he holds himself up above me. Suddenly, I know that neither one of us knows just how this will go, though Baldur’s done healing ceremonies like this countless times.

But what’s happening between us is not like anybody he’s ever worked on before. I see that frighten him now, as a flash of unsure terror lances through his beautiful, cosmic eyes.

“What happens now, when you work with people?” I ask then, as I see this unexpected fear in Baldur—in this drake who has lived through centuries and done so much.

“Usually, I ask them to relax… so I can figure out what’s been done to them. If it was a curse or something deeply disturbing, that cemented their fate,” Baldur says now as he regards me—vulnerable, for the first time since we met.

I understand with a flash of deep instinct that he needs me, then. Reaching up, I set a hand to his face, touching him for the first time during all this, rather than him touching me. “Do what you need to. We’ll face the consequences… together.”

“I don’t want to accidentally force you to bond with me without your permission,” he says then, as that terror and a deep reticence flash through his eyes again. “With other drakainas, I could always resist their auric pull when they were attracted to me, or me to them. But with you…”

As he trails off, I feel what he means, and what he’s afraid of. Because I’m afraid of it, too, as I feel our inner dragons already twisting into that ancient, spiraling dance, coiling up hard together in the cosmos the longer we hold our connection here on the earth.

The longer we stare into each other’s eyes and shake with our need to join and bond completely as one, the harder it gets to resist. I swallow hard, closing my eyes now, because I know my moment of decision has come.

Even as I do, I feel Baldur pull his power back as much as he can to let me make this decision in a clear headspace. The meaning of his words is plain; if we go through with this healing that he thought was going to be so simple, we will bond. It’s a foregone conclusion; everything inside me knows it as I feel Aesa’s Truthstone flare upon my chest, quiet until now.

Because she knows the truth like I do; Baldur is supposed to be mine, and I’m supposed to be his. Any simple healing magic we do will always end in our joining, forever and ever. It was written in the stars, somehow, that we would find each other.

And we have.

We’re only resisting now, what we know we must do.

“A warrior can’t give in to fate.” I bare my heart to him, even though I can’t open my eyes to look at him yet.

“I know.” His voice holds not sadness now, but understanding, as he lowers himself enough to lay a soft kiss upon my chest. It’s right above where Aesa’s Truthstone burns in my bones and skin; her power flares again, urging me not to be an idiot.

As I take one more moment to face my fate, at last.

“Fate or destiny?” I open my eyes. “Which is it, do you think?”

“Does it matter?” Baldur holds my gaze, steady now rather than afraid. “For eons, I thought destiny and fate were the most important thing. Now that I’ve finally met you—now that I feel this incredible, intense connection we already share—destiny and fate don’t even matter anymore. I just want to be with you, deep in my heart of hearts, where I’ve wanted no one and nothing with so much passion as I do right now. I want to be with you , Rikyava. Do you want to be with me?”

I take one last moment to resist my fate, or destiny, whichever it is.

And then I crumble to his beautiful blue eyes.

And something else inside me expands.

Complete .

“Yes,” I say softly then. “I want to be with you. Not because of destiny or fate, or because of the power you could give me and my bond. Just… because of you. Because I need you.”

“Your skin on mine. Your breath in my lungs. Your heartbeat pulsing in time with my own.” Baldur’s poetic side comes out now as he takes up my hand in his, twining our fingers together and kissing my thumb. His dark blue eyes shine, honest and vibrant, as I feel us reach an accord.

Coming together in our lives—for as long as they might last.

“I’ve never done a ceremony like this with a life-mate before.” He hesitates, though passion continues to shine in his eyes that I’ve finally said yes. “I can still try to change what’s been done to you by the False Knights, but I truly do not know what’s going to happen. If I let my power go wild with you the way I want it to… I don’t know what comes next.”

“I’ll probably bond you. Can you handle that?” I already know what my Bloodwalker magic’s going to do. Already, my Blood Magic drakaina is triumphant deep inside, beginning to braid and coil all through my darker Bone Magic as they prepare to take Baldur into our Bloodbond.

And make him a life-mate, forever.

“I can. I want it. Like nothing I’ve ever wanted in my life,” he says passionately now as he kisses my thumb again, our hands entwined. “But what I don’t know is what’s going to happen to you. What bonding me might do with your aura, or to the holes the False Council has shot all through you… or what may happen after we bond.”

“I’ll take that chance,” I say then, knowing it’s true with the deepest instinct of my life. “Whatever happens, Baldur Siguresson, I’m with you. And you’ll be with me… and we’ll figure it out, just like I do with all my drakes. Together.”

“Together.” He nods, as a fire of passion takes his eyes.

And then he’s descending, putting his soft lips on mine and kissing me.

The spiral of our power grips me like a riptide.

And it’s one I never want to escape.