Page 23 of Shaedes of Power (Soul Magic #1)
CHAPTER 23
I stood outside my own bedroom door, wondering what would be harder to face: a rabid Ciaran, freshly healed and out for blood, or Farris. It was like the very roots of the Corewood held me in place. I couldn’t quite reach my door, but I couldn’t flee either. I was just stuck there, knowing I owed it to him, wanting to explain everything that had happened, but also unable to close the gap. He wasn’t even supposed to be here. He should have been blissfully unaware of the faerie world, lost in some dusty old textbook in a corner of one of Manhattan’s historical libraries, smiling that little half-smile at attractive and available young women, and living his human life without the threats of the Dark Prince breathing down his neck.
He wasn’t supposed to be here , but that didn’t change the fact that he was. When I finally overcame my own reluctance, I opened the door and was greeted by those pale-blue eyes still enhanced by the green I had put there. His happiness and relief upon seeing me practically filled the room to the point that there was nothing left—no room for my doubts or hesitancy. He crossed the room quickly, like someone rushing to a well after days of dehydration in a barren desert, and enveloped me in his arms. He smelled like Perryflowers and leather and fresh spring air. He smelled like home .
“Are you all right?” His grip on me was gentle but unyielding.
“I’m okay.” I sighed into his chest, breathing him in and letting his fingers linger in my hair. There was so much to say, but so little time. And I knew that as soon as I had made the choice to come here, to see him. I was aware of the possibilities.
His warm hand rested on the back of my neck, and I looked up at him, my handsome, half-made creation. My magic had chosen him once, and as it felt its imprint on Farris’s soul, it came roaring to life once again. My head felt dizzy, and my lips parted to explain, to warn, to confess, but all I could say was “Kiss me.”
He probably couldn’t have refused me even if he had wanted to. I wondered if my power held that kind of sway. But it didn’t matter; there was definitely a love there that didn’t simply become erased or replaced. It was its own special thing, and the Balance had blessed it once before. I was ready to summon it once again. But was Farris ready?
His lips tenderly kissed mine and then moved from my lips down my jaw. I gasped as I felt his hot breath near the nape of my neck, felt his teeth nip at the lace that covered nearly all of me.
“This is not your color, you know,” he huskily whispered near my ear, sending tremors down my body in waves.
“You have to know, Farris.” My breath was already coming out in shallow pants. “To love me is to be forever changed. I have no control as to how much, but we will be forever bonded. And forever is a long time.”
His one hand cupped my chin, while the other moved down my back and encircled my waist, pressing the length of him against me. I closed my eyes, trying to focus on the reality of what I was asking him to do. Talking with Amira had helped me realize that perhaps I was led to these men for a reason. For if loving Edmyn was wrong, I didn’t want to be right. And if loving Edmyn meant a piece of me remained in the darkness, I was beginning to cling to the belief that loving Farris might keep a piece of me grounded in the light. There was balance there, and where there was balance, magic flourished and did miraculous things .
He kissed me so deeply, his tongue a voracious explorer. My magic was humming underneath every inch of my skin, electric and alive. “Forever will never be long enough for me,” he said. Our foreheads pressed together. I opened my eyes to him smiling at me as he pushed a strand of hair behind my ear.
“You will always have to share me,” I said softly, my magic daring him to refuse.
“I know,” he whispered back, pulling the thin lace dress up over my head. Then he picked me up and dragged me over to the bed.
“Soul magic is finite. A part of my soul will always be somewhere else,” I warned. All this was such a terrible offer, one no normal man would entertain, but Farris hadn’t had the most normal of lives, and after having spent time in the faerie realm, he probably was already forever changed.
“I’m already yours, Opal. You don’t need to try to dissuade me or sell me on anything.” He grabbed my hips and wrenched me toward him on the bed. I felt his need, suffering hard against the cool leather of my skirt. “Turn me into a weapon for your war or make me into a slave who worships at your feet. It doesn’t matter. I’m already there. I’m already yours. I’m yours , Opal. Now undress and let me make you believe it.”
For a moment, I hesitated. He offered too much of himself when neither of us could truly understand the consequences. But my body betrayed me, the Balance ruled me, and I was suddenly naked, on top of him on the bed, pulling his clothes off and intoxicated with magic. We’d been here before… well, almost here. This was the man we wanted.
It was impossible not to smile as I exposed Farris’s naked body to the sanctity of a clear night sky. He was clearly aroused and riding the high of finally getting the woman he had pursued for over a year. Flashes of memories from uncomplicated times came in and out of focus as I kissed his cheek, his neck, his shoulder. His backpack, always heavy with books, slung over his shoulder across a shiny countertop. The smell of coffee and his cologne. The echo of his laugh as he walked out the door .
Farris had his hand massaging the back of my head while I kissed his chest, turning his arm so I could see the scars. Another image forced its way to the front of my mind. Farris lying in an unnatural position while blood and poison seeped out of a thousand jagged bite marks. He was a survivor; he would survive this too.
I made my way to his groin, cupping the whole of his buttocks with both hands. A sound of surprise, followed by a moan of pleasure, escaped his lips as I took the whole of his throbbing cock in my mouth and moved in a way that caused his hips to buck slightly and his hand to clench a fistful of my hair.
“If this is what it feels like to be remade, I am willing clay in your able hands, my love.” He chuckled nervously, and I enjoyed the way I could make his body relax and tense and relax again. My magic was weaving invisible threads in and out between us, and the longer we touched, the tighter it pulled. Low and deep inside me, the thrill of watching Farris’s pleasure, in addition to his hands searching for my breasts, my neck, and my lips wrapped firmly around him, began loosening and lubricating my most intimate parts.
Already so bonded, he sensed my growing want and sat up to address it. He lifted my face with his hand, and it became quite clear that he was possessing me as much as I was possessing him. At the moment, we were as vulnerable as two people could be, and my magic delighted in that liberation.
“I know you want me inside of you, but I’m inclined to make you wait,” he said with that half-smile that always made me melt. But his face was so close, and his words only made the urge that much more intense.
I pressed into a kiss, trying to push my way on top of him, but he would not be overtaken. He rolled me onto my back and was quickly outlined in moonlight, framed by the star-studded sky, hovering above me with his pale-green hair dangling in my face.
He inserted the tip of his manhood into me, but only an inch. Just enough to make me inhale and arch my back to rise up and meet him. He nuzzled my nose with his and slowly went in a tiny bit deeper. My breath was coming out in strained puffs as I moved my hips again, only to be foiled by his hand, which came firmly to press them down. I whimpered in ecstasy, and breathlessly swore as he removed himself almost all the way.
“Farris,” I pleaded. “Please, I must have you. I can’t—” He hovered for seconds more, his eyes alight with the satisfaction of my begging, before plunging the whole of himself into my depths, which couldn’t have been more ready and welcoming.
My soul ached, but my need was riotous. His thrusts disturbed my magic in a violent, reckless way that caused our bodies to tremble and prolong our pleasure. When I thought the climax might never come and we might be forever destined to ride the paper-thin line between exertion and release, relief came in the form of a powerful discharge of energy—a wave of magic and gratification that left us clinging to one another until we drifted into a deep and contented sleep.
When I awoke, there was a sunny haze blanketing the room causing me to squint when I opened my eyes. I was lying naked on my stomach, sprinkled in Corewood leaves and Perryflower petals. I turned my head and could just barely make out Farris’s muscular frame curled up on his side. He was facing the wall beside me, bathed in the brightness of the morning light.
I was afraid to touch him. Whatever magic linked us now was just as strong as I had felt with Edmyn, but Farris was not cursed to begin with. I almost didn’t want to see what I had created. Having survived the intensity of the Renaissance Spell, I guessed I should just be thankful that he was at least still breathing. But I said a silent prayer anyway, that the Balance might have consecrated our mating and blessed us with something we could use.
Farris stretched out in the sunlight, muscles undoubtedly tender from their abuse in the night. I thought I was just sensing our bond—the magic that tied us—but as he moved around, I realized it was his magic I was feeling.
I jolted upright in bed and looked at him with bewilderment. He was smiling, his sleepy eyes trying to focus on me. He reached around my waist and pulled me near him so I was half-resting on his chest. His eyes were still two icy blue-green crystals, but they now held light-gray halos around the irises. They were shockingly beautiful, as if winter itself had touched his soul. His hair was now platinum silver, almost white, but the wavy ends looked like they had been dipped in green and then purple paint. It was an ombré effect that I had never seen before on any other faerie. I flipped over his arm, and although the shadow beast scars were still there, every inch of his skin held the faintest silvery sheen.
“How do I look?” He grinned, holding up a few locks in front of his face.
“How do you feel?” I answered. I didn’t know if he even knew what he was. Somehow I had turned him into a silver Shaede. The first in over a thousand of years. But I could feel the battle magic and the hint of purple Shaede in him too. He was some sort of beautiful cross species, the only of his kind, radiating ancient magic, and wholly devoted to me.
“I feel”—he stopped to ponder the right word—“immortal.” He stroked my cheek with his finger while I got lost in his new glacial eyes. “My skin is almost itching with magic, Opal. It is all very surreal. Like I am connected to the Earth in a way I’d never before realized and now can call on its elements at will.” He took his hand from my face and pointed to the open canopy of branches above us. He selected a bud of a Perryflower with his eyes and, using his magic, delicately detached it, guiding it down slowly with his finger. But as it fell, it burst into bloom, opening its petals proudly and injecting its scent into the air. It landed in his open hand, and he placed its stem gently behind my ear. Then he folded his arms behind his silver head, looking pretty proud of himself.
“You’re a faerie,” I said, highlighting the obvious. “A Shaede. Do you feel, I don’t know, capable of anything extraordinary, anything particularly useful against Ciaran?”
“Were you hoping for more of a vampire slayer titan with saws for arms and lasers shooting from his eyes?” He was teasing now, and I couldn’t help but crack a smile .
“No,” I said, my palm resting on his steady heartbeat. “I think I just had this crazy idea that if we mated, that somehow my love for you would shift the balance. You know, turn the tide and somehow load the scales in our favor for a change. We already have plenty of faeries with powerful magic and skill willing to fight to bring down Ciaran as it is. I just don’t see how one more really helps us—unless, of course, you can see the future?” Now it was my turn to tease. I didn’t want him to feel like some sort of a disappointment; I was very aware of the prospect that now that Farris was fae, he wouldn’t be required to leave the Seam, and we might actually be able to find happiness together. But I was equally aware that if we didn’t deal with Ciaran, there was no future happiness for any of us.
Farris shook his head, and a weariness fell upon his face. His smile changed to a piteous expression, and his eyes gazed far off as he spoke. “I cannot tell the future, my love. Nor do I bring to the field any exceptional skills that might rival the dark magic that has a hold of the prince of the Night Court. But I do now possess the knowledge of the ancients. I can see your magic, and I know where it came from. I look at these Corewoods and can envision them as saplings. I’ve seen this palace before even a single stone was set in place. There have been many wars fought on these lands and many planet-altering decisions made by the Shaedes that have graced the seats of the Five. My kind have helped shape the outcomes of many struggles and complications. The Balance will not allow the dark to overcome the light. Thus, I know how we rid the realms of Ciaran. I know how he dies.”
He blinked a few times and then came back to the moment. My mind was rapidly replaying everything he had said. Our stories told us that silver Shaedes were the wise ones, but they were mostly portrayed as advisors and bookworms. No one ever really went into detail about their magic. The texts mostly highlighted and praised the silvers for their contributions to high-level conflicts and solutions to realm tribulations. Did their minds retain ancient secrets or knowledge of things that the rest of us weren’t privy to?
“You cannot tell the future, but you know how Ciaran dies?” I asked, the hairs on my arms and neck standing at attention .
“It is like my mind is a catalog of all the knowledge of all the silver fae from the beginning of the Seam. Like those old microfilm readers at the libraries, I can easily flip through hundreds or thousands of years of stored-up information, but my magic guides me to exactly what I need.”
“And your magic has located a way to kill Ciaran. Like for real. Real dead. Forever?” I was tripping over my words as my adrenaline spiked and my disbelief started wrestling with my hope. A hope that I had thought was lost.
“The only kind of dead I know,” he said, reaching his arm around me and rubbing my back. He stayed silent, serenely watching some butterflies pass overhead.
“So what is it?” I tried not to yell. I didn’t know if he thought he was being funny by keeping the information to himself, but my impatience was apparent. “Tell me, Farris. How can Ciaran die?”
He squeezed me a little, then went back to rubbing my back, that solemn look back on his face. “I cannot say. You must just trust me.”
For a moment, I wondered if our bond was such that I could force him to tell me. But the piece of my soul that now belonged in him didn’t give me control. On the contrary, it took some of my control away. Instead, I felt his need for secrecy and trust, the current desires of his heart, and it was I who felt beholden. My love for him would never force or coerce. It may have been passionate, but it was gentle, and generous.
I rested my head against his chest once more, wallowing in the magic that made him and feeling curious about the magic he now possessed. Questions floated to the surface about the Nymphs and the black Shaedes and the dragons. Could he have clearer, more first-hand accounts of everything that had happened in the past? I smiled at the realization that, through our coupling, Farris had managed to become the most powerful historian of our time. So much for a few wonders of the world; now Farris had access to all the secrets. It seemed just. It seemed like something the Balance would have made right.
“Do you and the other High Shaedes have a plan for getting to Ciaran?” he asked slowly .
Suspiciously, I turned up to look at him. “Not yet, why? Do you have something to suggest?”
“I do,” he said with a crooked smile.
“Of course you do,” I said as I rolled on top of him and kissed him on the lips.