Page 74 of The Frost Witch (The Covenants of Velora #1)

Unlike the mysterious Sacrifice Gate, carved into the mountains themselves, the temple that guarded the Memory Gate stood in the shadows. The stones were the same color as the mountains on either side, clearly sourced from their ore.

Nearly two months had passed since I’d thrown myself over the threshold and into the temple in Canmar. In that time, I’d acquired both a Lifebind and a familiar. My power was somehow, inexplicably, still strong and more under control than ever.

But all of it could be ripped away by one cruel turn of fate at the hands of the gods.

I still owed Xyta one more sacrifice.

Who knew what awaited at the remaining three gates?

Auri’s warning echoed in my head. I had not told Garrick or Isanara about the nighttime visitation, though the latter had unfettered access to my mind, so she probably already knew.

I moved through the temple’s rituals by rote—eating, visiting the altars, avoiding Alize and Varian. My body demanded an afternoon nap. As night fell beyond the stained-glass windows, I found my bed in the dormitory while Garrick saw to his evening ablutions in the attached washrooms.

There were only ten beds now, though the barracks could have accommodated three times that number. Alize chose one near the exit. I chose the one farthest away from her.

Isanara hissed at Alize and then tucked herself underneath the bed.

I let my chuckle of appreciation go free as I unstrapped my leather vest and then unbuttoned my gown, draping them both over the end of my bed.

My weapons and belt I tucked beneath my pillow, within easy reach.

Even with only two other supplicants left, even with Garrick sleeping in the bed across from mine, even with Isanara coiled beneath me like a snake.

The gates were not places of safety; neither were the temples. The guards who stood in the doorways were part of the deception.

A gate is always near. A god is always watching.

I settled beneath the blankets, adding my fur-lined cloak over the top for an extra layer of warmth and weight. Another illusion of security.

Garrick returned from the washrooms, dousing the torches along the wall as he crossed the barracks. I watched him with open admiration. Alize had already rolled away to face the wall.

He’d left his tight leather breeches unfastened, the charcoal-colored linen shirt hanging off of his shoulders unbuttoned as well.

I sank my teeth into my lower lip to keep my little growl of appreciation inside.

The muscles of his stomach were so sharply carved I would have thought I could slice my hand on them, if not for my thorough exploration the night before.

They curved downward, pointing to the parts of him still concealed beneath the leather.

But the leather could not conceal the glorious length of his?—

A snarl ripped from my lips as he doused the last torch, throwing us into sudden darkness.

He met it with a low chuckle. I pouted my lips out even though I knew he couldn’t see them.

How dare he steal away my last good look at him?

I couldn’t have him tonight, but at least I could sear his body into my memory so I might have pleasant dreams.

My eyes adjusted quickly, made as they were for seeing in the dark. But my mind struggled to make sense of what my eyes communicated. In front of me, directly by my bedside, was a wall of hard muscle.

Garrick hooked his thumbs into his breeches and pulled them down.

I swallowed so that I would not start drooling.

Then, to my utter and complete shock, he reached for my hip.

“Alize is right there!” I hissed, certain she could hear me even from the other side of the room.

“Move over, witch.”

He did not wait for me to comply, sliding my heavy body over as if it were nothing and climbing into the bed behind me.

“If this bed collapses down on top of me, I will eat your bonded. I don’t care how disgusting humans taste.”

I shivered at Isanara’s threat. Or maybe it was the warmth of Garrick’s breath against my ear as he settled in behind me. Or his cock stroking against my backside. Fucking gods. He wore nothing but his linen shirt, and with the buttons undone, he might as well have been wearing nothing at all.

I shivered again.

“Do you need me to warm you up?” Garrick breathed into my ear, his lips brushing against the shell.

One arm slid beneath my head, creating a little pillow and tucking me in tight against his chest. But the other one…

wicked, hateful man. It slid around my stomach, drawing circles around my belly button and caressing the soft rolls.

I was so wet that soon the entire temple would be able to scent me—humans and fae alike.

“We are not alone,” I said as quietly as I could manage, hoping the thick furs would muffle the words, if not the sound.

Garrick answered by sucking my earlobe into his mouth. “Then you’d better be quiet.”

I opened my mouth to protest, then slammed it shut again when his hand slid down my stomach. He paused to tangle his fingers in the dark forest at the apex of my legs, drawing tiny circles that tickled and teased.

I was going to die. For the first time in my life or death, it was not the frost that would be the end of me, but the heat. Holding in the reactions he drew from my body was torture on a level I’d never experienced, not in four hundred years.

Desperate to relieve the pressure, I slid my own hand back over my hip to his harder one. If he could torture me, I could certainly return the favor.

But he pushed my hand away before I could curl it around him. “Not now. Tonight is about you.”

“You are being ridiculous.” I could feel how hard he was—like the fucking stones that had been hewn from the mountains to build the walls that enclosed us.

My legs pressed together, eager for that hard length of him inside of me.

But it was his hand that slid down, urging my thighs apart.

He lingered for a moment, stroking the insides of my thighs beneath the blanket.

I’d been with many men and women over the centuries, but none of them had ever shown such reverence for my body.

Garrick touched the parts of me that I’d never considered to be erotic—my soft stomach, my thick thighs—with as much interest as my breasts or pussy.

My hand began to tremble. I dug my fingernails into Garrick’s hip to steady myself. This time, he didn’t push me away.

He nipped at my throat. “Be a good girl and keep your hands right where they are.” Then he plunged a finger inside of me.

My back arched, hips driving into him. Gods, he was so hard. My mind could hardly process the heat of his cock pressed against my back in tandem with his thick finger stretching me. No matter how I moved, he was there.

There was no way I could keep myself contained. Alize was doomed to hear every sound. I refused to let myself think about Isanara. Hopefully, she was blocking me out, if that was even possible.

Garrick cradled my hips within his own while his finger set a steady, rhythmic pace. I’d admired those fingers for months. I knew their girth, the competent strength in every inch. When he pressed a second one inside of me, the darkness around me exploded into stars.

“Garrick,” I groaned, turning my face down into his bicep to stifle the sound.

He took that as an invitation to press his lips to the nape of my neck. “Has no one ever worshipped you, Koryn?”

My answer was another helpless mewl swallowed by his thick muscle.

No—that was what I would have said if I were coherent enough to form words.

No one had ever worshipped me like this.

At best, sex had always been an exchange.

At worst, my partner found satisfaction while I took care of myself or fell asleep disappointed.

But Garrick did worship me, every single part.

My pussy stretched around his fingers, my body desperate for every sensation. The slight burn only made me wetter. I sank my teeth into his bicep to try to relieve the building pressure.

But Garrick was merciless. While his mouth made love to the column of my throat, he increased the speed of his strokes inside of me. Then, just as I was about to combust, he curled his fingertips and scraped them across a bundle of nerves I’d only ever dared to tease.

There was nothing teasing about Garrick’s touch. He curled his fingers with each stroke, driving me to a place I’d never even seen before. Ice crystallized in my veins, then shattered and melted in a torrent of fire.

A surge of wetness flowed between my legs, coating Garrick’s hand, the insides of my thighs, and the furs and blankets we’d pulled over us.

Heat bloomed across my cheeks. I rolled to my back, my head still resting on his arm, chest heaving.

My mouth opened and closed, but there were no words.

Where before I couldn’t keep the sound in, now I was too shocked to make one.

Garrick pressed his forehead to mine. “That was incredible.” His voice shook. Why was his voice shaking? I was the one who’d just come in a literal flood. “You are incredible.”

“I… I’ve never done that,” I said. Too loud—but also too late.

“No one has ever done that for you,” Garrick corrected. “I’m honored to be the first.”

My hand trembled slightly, but I still reached for him. His cock was still hard against my thigh. He caught my hand, lifting it to his mouth, and pressed a kiss to the palm.

“Absolutely not. Go to sleep, witch.” He leaned down to press a matching kiss to my lips. “You deserve it.”

I didn’t know about that. But I certainly was not about to argue with him.

Not when he could make me feel like that.

It was easy to surrender to the warmth of Garrick, his breath on my neck, his leg curved over mine.

I reached up and brushed aside a wave of pale hair that fell forward across his cheek.

Maybe he was right. Maybe I was incredible. Maybe together, we were unstoppable.