Page 35 of The Dark Mage

R en’wyn stood in the entrance to Fael’s room, bright sunlight pouring through the window.

She took two steps forward, almost reaching the bed.

The ivory sheets were rumpled, the pillow still bearing the shape of his head.

The room smelled like him—a raw scent of stone and smoky bonfire, like the wild e arth.

She didn’t know why she’d come in here or what she’d expected to find. After the last few days—after the encounter with the regiment—she thought maybe…what, exactly? Tell him how she felt? Tell him she wanted something more? Ask if he was willing to give part of himself to her?

She regretted coming in. They were friends and partners, nothing more.

What could she possibly say? Why was she imagining romance?

In this world, for people like them? Last night had been a kiss, nothing more.

She was a ridiculous fool. She was glad Fael wasn’t here.

He was probably out canvassing the city for magic—work she should have been helping with instead of standing here like a trembling ki tten.

She stepped backward—and collided with something solid. Som eone.

Off-balance, she tipped sideways toward the door, but a hand clasped her upper arm—strong and sure—righting her before she fell.

“Ren’wyn, what are you looking for?” Fael’s voice was low in her ear, tickling her skin and making her head tilt back. She bumped into his shoulder, and her cheeks flamed at the con tact.

Turning to face him, Ren’wyn met his gaze. His mouth quirked into a half-smile, his eyes glinting mischievously. Up close, he was tall and solid—the way only a trained berserker could be. His warm hand remained on her arm, gentle yet firm, as though he feared she might be d izzy.

“Are you feeling all right?” he asked into the too-long silence, his expression softening with con cern.

She blinked twice. Where was her tongue? What was she d oing?

“Fine,” she rasped. Her throat was dry. “I’m fine. Where were you? I didn’t expect you to be gone so e arly.”

She reached for their typical rapport—a tether to normalcy.

But her face heated again, her stomach tightening as his hand remained on her arm.

They were so close—a slight shift would brush her breasts against his rib cage.

So close she could imagine what it would feel like to fit herself into the planes of his body like a puzzle p iece.

She realized her gaze had fallen, and she was staring at his slender waist and hips.

She jerked her eyes back up. His smile widened, but something else flickered in his eyes. This time, there was no teasing. His gaze lingered on her mouth, then her neck, and she wished—ached—that he would look lower. Wished he would ask her…

“I was out practicing in the woods,” he said finally.

He stepped back and leaned against the dresser, crossing his arms over his chest, relaxed and comfortable.

Cold air swept into the space between them.

“I thought you could use a morning to sleep in. I worked through the Passage, then swam in the river to cool off.”

Damn her treacherous mind. She swallowed hard as an image formed—Fael sweat-slicked and panting, stripping down to bathe.

She could see him leaning his sheathed sword against a sycamore, pulling off his clinging, wet shirt.

His hands would push through his dark hair, brushing it from his eyes before unbuckling his p ants…

“I thought maybe you’d join me today?” Fael’s voice interrupted her vision. “I could use help canvassing. I’m hoping these larger southern cities will give us more chances to connect with people. It could be a good opportunity to see what we can do—toge ther.”

He hesitated, then spoke in a rush, as though the words had to escape before they betrayed him. “I’m asking because when we’re together, my power is stronger. I sense more—feel more.” His eyes shone, clear and br ight.

“Do you?” His next question was a whisper, low and soft. Was that hope in his v oice?

Her traitorous heart thundered in anticipa tion.

“Do you feel it when I’m near?”

The question was dangerous ground. Something more than magic lay behin d it.

Ren’wyn opened to the Void, sensing Fael’s power. It burned like the sun—pure and bright—ringed with golden-white intensity. She blinked, clearing her second s ight.

“I do,” she said softly, nodding. “I feel you as near as my breath, Fael.”

His name was a song—a song she longed to sing until it filled her body, soul, and spirit.

It danced on her tongue like fresh, clear water.

Like starlight. Like freedom. He was freedom and home and steady friendship.

Somewhere along the way, he’d become the center of her world, and it both thrilled and terrified her.

One step, and he was against her, sweeping her into his arms, clasping her tightly. Unyielding. She’d been right—her body fit into his like two sides of the same coin.

“Ren’wyn,” he breathed, her name laced with unspoken questions. “Re n, I…”

She reached up, threading her hands behind his head, meeting his eyes. Then, she pulled his mouth down to hers as she whispered, “Yes.”

Their lips met. His fire and power burned through her as she grounded them both with her darkness.

A dam burst inside him—he clung to her desperately.

Deep kisses, soft lips, searching tongue.

Fael’s hand swept low to grip her backside, and she gasped into his mouth at the heat flooding her head to toe.

She was acutely aware of his hard length pressed against her stomach. An ache pulsed between her thighs—hot, strong, and sweet. Fael’s deep, rumbling laugh sent her spiraling further, her toes curling as her legs squeezed involunta rily.

Pulling back, she stammered, “I want you, Fael.”

The words she couldn’t say burned between them: I love you. You steady me. You’ve taught me to find my own bravery. I love you, and I need you.

Fael reached behind him with his foot and kicked the door shut.

The soft click of the latch made her shiver.

Her spirit had already entwined with his—sure and steady, their magic interwoven like fate.

The desire in her body mirrored that connection, fed from it like dry kindling catching flame.

It ran like lines of fire up between her legs, and she was burning and bur ning.

He spun them, breaking the kiss as he pressed her against the dresser, the wooden edge a hard line against her back.

His hand fisted in her hair, tilting her head as his lips found her neck.

The wood creaked beneath their combined weight.

He gently bit the sensitive skin above her shoulder, groaning into her neck.

Her fingers gripped the edge of the drawer as his hips pressed her harder into the dresser. Bending his knees, he rocked his hips upward, and his erection pressed against the peak of her th ighs.

His mouth traveled up her neck, his teeth scraping the skin beneath her ear. The dresser shifted slightly, and his grip in her hair tightened as his other hand braced against the top. His breathing was ragged as he pulled back to look at her, his eyes glowing with power—bright as em bers.

“Ren’wyn,” he murmured, loosening her hair with clever fin gers.

“Ren’wyn, Ren’wyn,” he repeated huskily, as though her name was a prayer and a song. The scent of him—fresh air, river water—swept over her, turning her bone less.

Fael cupped her cheeks, brushing escaped hairs behind her ears.

He slid his fingertips along her neck, then continued over her shoulders and down her back.

She sighed with pleasure as he touched her backside, her hips, and then ran up her stomach to brush the undersides of her breasts.

His smile was wicked as his thumbs grazed her nipples, hard beneath her dress.

He hummed with pleasure, then moved to the tie along her neck.

“I’ve dreamed of this,” he said as his fingers undid the knot, pulling the ties free.

Her body tensed as the realization hit her—he’d dreamed of this too. She was suddenly sure he’d been as consumed by thoughts of her as she was of him.

Her breath caught as the straps fell. Her full breasts strained against the loose fabric, and Fael exhaled sharply with pleasure. He dipped his head, brushing his lips along her skin, running his nose down her cleavage as she mo aned.

Keeping eye contact, he slid his thumbs along the edge of her bodice until it slipped fully from her shoulders. The pressure released, and she gasped as her breasts fell free.

Fael’s wicked grin returned as he flicked his thumbs over her nipples. She arched into him, threading her fingers into the soft hair at the nape of his neck. Her left hand drifted down his back and tugged him closer until his soft shirt soothed her bare skin.

He tugged her toward the bed, tracing slow circles near her nipple as he kissed her with focused intent. Laying her down, Fael nipped her breasts and pressed soft kisses along her upper arms.

His breath was shaky as his gaze roamed her body—satisfaction and desire mingling in his eyes, as though he was undressing her all over again as his hands moved to his belt bu ckle.

A sudden knock at the door shattered the mo ment.

They both ju mped.

“Master Axel, a guest has arrived for you,” the innkeeper ca lled.

Axel…siblings, Ren’wyn thought hazily. Everyone in this damned inn believes we’re siblings traveling together. The thought snapped like a trap, and panic rose in her gut.

The same concern crossed Fael’s face as he replied, “Just a moment. I’m breakfasting with my sister.” His gaze on her bare skin was agonized and frustrated. Ren’wyn blushed and yanked the top of her dress up, but her panicked fingers couldn’t tie it around her neck.

A soft mass hit her head—a white shawl embroidered with pink and yellow butterflies. She caught Fael’s gaze as he whispered, “Your hair.”

In the mirror across the room, she saw the wild state he’d left her hair in. She smoothed it as best she could, though desire ran through her at the memory of his fingers tuggin g it.

Shit, shit, shit. This is taking too long.

Fael crossed to the door and opened it, his easy smile in place—a picture of morning grace. Ren’wyn sat on the edge of the bed, unsure where to look or how to act.

Siblings, she reminded her pounding heart and heated core. He’s your brother. You’ve come to him for breakfast, and… and…

“Good morning,” Fael said graciously. “You caught us planning the sights to take in today in your charming city.”

The innkeeper’s suspicious gaze flicked between them.

Ren’wyn knew they both looked flushed—not the typical picture of siblings sharing a meal.

But after a moment, the innkeeper seemed satisfied.

Ren’wyn cast her eyes demurely to the floor.

She was, after all, the lovely young Miss Mari, visiting town for the first time.

“You have a visitor,” the innkeeper repeated. “He’s waiting in the entry hall. Shall I send him up, or would you prefer to meet him t here?”

“Please set us a breakfast tea,” Ren’wyn replied sweetly. “We’ve had plenty to eat, but our guest may not have been so lucky. Let him know we’ll be down in five minutes.” Her smile was all s ugar.

“Of course.” The innkeeper bowed and headed for the entry. Fael shut the door gently behind him, listening as the footsteps faded down the st airs.

“While I’m flattered you think I could satisfy you in five minutes,” Fael chuckled, “I think we should probably see our g uest.”

His eyes, filled with both regret and passion, stopped Ren’wyn’s breath. Her cheeks burned, and she arched back instinctively. The shawl slipped open, revealing how much of her was still exp osed.

Fael’s breath caught, ragged and deep. Before she could react, he dropped to his knees in front of her.

Reverently, he brushed his fingers over her breasts before taking hold of the ties at her neckline.

His knuckles skimmed her skin as he slid the laces through, and she ground her teeth to keep from crying out at his touch.

Around her shoulders and over her neck, he tightened and tied the laces, his breath warm against her collar bone.

His gaze drifted up to meet hers.

“This is a situation we will revisit,” he murmured hus kily.

Then he pressed his lips to the hollow between her collarbones. One hand braced on her knee as he lifted his head to capture her mouth. She returned his kiss, hungry and wanting, then took his hand as he s tood.

“You can take this as a promise,” he whispered in her ear. “We’ll meet our guest and hear him out. Then we’re going to find somewhere private and finish what we sta rted.”

Her cheeks burned, her thighs clenched, but she let him lead her downstairs into the front hall.

Ren’wyn felt their guest’s presence before they saw him, and any leftover arousal vanished as her stomach twisted with anx iety.

Fael’s hand tightened on hers—he sensed the power too. It flowed around them, green and bright, vibrant as new growth. The man standing with his back to them in the dining area radiated it. His tousled, shoulder-length black hair and the set of his broad shoulders made Ren’wyn’s breath c atch.

She knew exactly what his voice would sound like when he spoke. She knew there would be brown eyes when he tu rned.

The man straightened his vest as he spoke to the back wall.

“A friend told me there were two people in town I had to meet…”

He tu rned.

The words died on his lips. His eyes widened as recognition fl ared.

Ren’wyn met the clear brown gaze of E srin.