Page 27

Talysse

T he sea is terrifying.

The waves are roaring, and the salty wind whips my face. The water is freezing. I bite my lips to muffle the chatter of my teeth as I shove the heavy boat into the churning water, every muscle in my body screaming with exhaustion. The oars rattle in their rusty loops, and I pray it can get me across. The tide picks up the boat, and I jump in at the last moment, grabbing the oars.

The salty spray stings my eyes, but the soft magic of the Candle of Azalyah is still there across thundering maelstroms and waves as big as a house. Elders help me. The boat rocks violently beneath me, each wave threatening to capsize it and plunge me into the black abyss below. I clutch the oars with white-knuckled hands, my heart pounding in my chest like a trapped bird.

I can’t swim. What the hell was I thinking?

For Tayna. For Myrtle and her little son. For the faint hope of a future.

The deeper I go, the more the waves rise, cold and unforgiving. Every time the boat tips, my stomach lurches, and a scream claws at my throat.

Stay calm. Focus. Breathe. Survive, just like always.

The wind roars like a beast, and the waves crash against the boat with deafening force. Water splashes my face, cold as ice, and I gasp for breath, choking. I try to steady myself, but the boat bucks again, nearly throwing me overboard.

Panic surges. My mind races with visions of the dark, bottomless depths teeming with unseen horrors. The thought of being pulled down, of drowning in the icy blackness, sends a shiver of terror through my entire body.

I will die, and nobody will even know what happened to me. My bones will join the many at the bottom of this Elders cursed bay, picked clean by the crabs.

And then they’ll come for Tayna.

And Aeidas—

Aeidas. The thought of him awakens a tiny spark inside me. Gentle warmth spreads from my core. I wish to see him again, to try his scrambled eggs, to…

Nonsense. He will slay me with that terrifying magical blade of his at sight.

I am on my own. And I need to make it to that cursed shipwreck.

My shoulders are burning as I push the oars harder. The stars above me, cold, distant, and impossibly beautiful, seem to mock my suffering.

Each stroke is a battle. The wind fights me, pushing the boat off course, and the waves seem to rise up in defiance, slamming into the hull with bone-jarring force. My muscles ache, but I push through the pain, driven by sheer desperation.

A particularly large wave crashes over the side, drenching me in freezing water. My heart skips a beat, and I scramble to bail the water out with my hands. The boat feels heavier and more sluggish, and the fear of sinking presses down on me like a weight.

Please, please let me make it. The mocking wind steals my words. Who would help me? The Elders, who doomed this world to darkness?

The minutes stretch into eternities, each one filled with the relentless fury of the sea and the ever-present threat of the depths. My breaths come in ragged gasps, my throat raw from screaming into the wind. The waves grow more ferocious as if sensing my hope and seeking to crush it. The boat tips dangerously, water sloshing over the sides.

I pour every ounce of strength into rowing, my palms raw and bleeding. The ocean fights back, a final, desperate assault. A monstrous wave rises before me, and I brace myself, eyes wide with terror.

The wave crashes down, and I know, with crystal clarity, that this is how I die.

It all happens so fast.

The world turns to freezing, dark chaos. The boat capsizes, and I choke on seawater, my mind screaming in panic. I paddle mindlessly the boiling water around me when another wave rises, a mountain of dark water. It hurls the boat in my direction, and something heavy slams against my temple. Probably the oar.

Then I start sinking.

It’s all lost.

I beat the darkness with my arms and feet, unable to figure out which way is up and which way is down. My lungs scream in pain, and white stars from the blow blur my vision.

The Elders grant me a merciful vision before my end: two strong male arms closing around my chest, pulling me up with such force, that the last breath escapes my lips. And to my surprise—before darkness swallows me—I am flying. And the sound of powerful wings is stronger than the wind.

*

“Talysse?”

This cannot be. I am dead. Is Aeidas dead, too? Because I am sure he’s shaking me awake, his concerned face just inches away from mine. He is warm, smells of sea and magic, his wet silver hair loose, and the moonlit beach doesn’t look like Atos’s Underworld.

“Talysse, speak to me!” There is a plea and pain in his voice and a hint of rage, a barely concealed promise that the world would suffer should I not wake up. I remain motionless, too weak to move, melting into his warmth, relishing in his wild heartbeat.

He is the type of man who would drain seas, split mountains, and burn cities for love. I see it in the glint of his eyes, in the relentless curve of his lips, in the fluid way his body moves.

Fate is cruel, placing me between him and his dream.

Too bad he is an obstacle to my escape to the Free Cities with my sister.

Too bad the sun will set forever soon.

Someone else has drawn this path for us, has thrown the dice, deciding our destinies, and all we can do is relish the tiny stolen moments before we have to face each other and the inevitable death of one of us.

“Aeidas?” I whisper and brush my knuckles along his stubbed jaw to make sure it is him and not some nasty trick of these cursed lands. A feverish sage flame burns in his eyes as he sees the wound on my thigh.

“Who…” he is heaving when he points at the slash on my thigh, “who did this to you?”

His growl is a promise of a violent death for the fool who harmed me.

“He’s already taken care of.” A proud smile curls his full lips as he leans closer.

“Was it the pampered Odryssian and his mistress?” He sneers. “I knew you could handle yourself well in…tight situations.”

“Like tricking rich boys? Atos’s hairy warts, you should see me and Myrtle.”

We cackle and drink on each other’s warmth.

The beach has gone suddenly quiet, even the wind has found some other place to torment.

We both feel the air shifting. The haze of our breaths mingles.

There. Just a hundred feet away. Behind the decayed remains of something that was once a beautiful siren’s face, a magnificent ship bow, now looking like a rotten corpse, eaten away by the elements. The darkness beside it thickens, stretches, and becomes dense.

“Aeidas,” I whisper, “Shadowfeeders.”

Faster than lightning, he grabs something from the sand next to me and stashes it in his pocket. Then he gathers me in his arms and dashes toward the sand dunes, away from the sea, away from certain death or worse. The wound on my thigh burns, my muscles are jelly, and my head is still spinning.

“You could’ve just left me there, you know.”

“Shut up, Talysse, I’m busy saving us,” he spits through clenched teeth. “Are they catching up?” Hot springs’ vapors veil the surroundings, but I can still see the beach. Two Shadowfeeders aimlessly wander the empty shore.

“They’re searching the beach,” I breathe, “they’re not following.”

He lets out a grunt; the muscles pressed to my body, straining.

The sound of the waves has died out behind us, and the landscape among the thick putrid mist has changed dramatically. The floor is solid rock. Round holes filled with clear water are steaming around, and they look really inviting. Crumbling walls appear from the mist—ghosts of buildings long gone—colorful ceramic tiles still cover the floors. Seems like we’ve reached the luxurious bathhouses that stood here before the Hex.

My head rests too conveniently in the curve between Aeidas’s powerful shoulders and his neck. His skin is covered in a thin layer of sweat now.

“Aeidas,” I call softly, and he nearly stumbles, “you can put me down now. I can walk.” He obliges, cautiously letting my feet touch the floor, his arms still around me.

“We need to find a place to clean your wound and spend the rest of the night,” he says, raking fingers through his salt-tousled strands. Was he also trying to reach the shipwreck?

“Spend the night? I need to get back to the beach—” I protest, ignoring the oddly hot throbbing in my thigh.

“You found the Candle, Talysse.” He digs into his pocket and pulls out a simple wax candle as big as my palm. It looks so inconspicuous, yet the arcane streams pulsating around it nearly blind my magic-sensitive eyes. I open my mouth and close it.

“No idea how you made it to the ship and back when you cannot swim, but I guess there is more to you than meets the eye. Here—” He hands me the Candle. “It’s yours, Talysse. You nearly died retrieving it.”

The silence between us thickens, just like the vapors of the hot springs. Two of the artifacts are in my possession, and all he needs to do is reach out and grab them.

One heartbeat, then another. Nothing happens. His dreadful blade doesn’t solidify in his hand. He doesn’t strike me. His fingers don’t close around my throat.

Will I be fast enough—my magic against his Shadowblade? Should I create the illusion of some tainted wolves and distract him, then bolt into the mist? He cocks his head and studies me, his chest still rising rapidly. Is he considering how to end me? I take a step back, and sparkles of magic fly around my wrists as I brace for an attack.

“Listen!” Aeidas brings a finger to his lips. “There’s water running somewhere close. And shelter.” Then he turns on his heel and dives into the mist.

The Candle weighs in my pocket. Chills run down my spine at the memory of the raging waves against my boat, the cold darkness swallowing me, and the horror when I couldn’t tell where the surface and the bottom were. Then, the feeling of being pulled out and up into the sky, the majestic swings of two powerful white wings. What creature came to my rescue? And how did it know that I am after the Candle? Did it retrieve it for me? Or was this some devious Unseelie setup?

Thoughts for another time when there are no Shadowfeeders after us. I limp after Aeidas and find him standing before the low opening of a cave, his head tilted, listening to any sounds coming from the inside. Soft bluish light filters from the depths, and even my human senses can hear the distant splashing of water.

“There’s clean water inside. It’s safe. Come on. I want to see that slash.” He crouches and disappears into the opening.

Folded in two, I squeeze through the narrow passage. The air gets warmer, and the faint sound of splashing water suggests a hidden waterfall ahead. The low corridor suddenly widens, revealing an underground chamber the size of my parents’ dining hall.

Elders.

Glowing mushrooms cascade down the walls, their light casting a soft glow over the cavern. My boots sink into thick, velvety moss that carpets the floor. A gentle waterfall spills into a shallow, oval lake, its clear waters shimmering under the light of clusters of luminous crystals embedded in the cavern walls.

The water looks inviting, almost beckoning me to step in and let the soothing coolness wash over me. Delicate ferns and exotic, glowing flowers line the lake’s edge, adding dots of color. I take a deep breath. The air is filled with a sweet, earthy scent, mingling with the refreshing mist from the waterfall.

Iridescent butterflies flutter around, their wings catching the light. The gentle hum of the waterfall and the occasional chirping of crickets make it appear as some serene sanctuary beyond space and time—a perfect haven to heal and escape from the world above.

“Disrobe, Talysse,” the prince commands, arms crossed at his chest. “Let’s wash and check that wound.”

I open my mouth to object, but the throbbing in my thigh and the heat flushing my skin make me consider his words. That slash needs to be cleaned; Elders know what filth was on that blade. Drawn by the crystalline water, all of my clothes land on a pile on the mossy floor. Unable to tell if the heat inside me is fever from the infection or something entirely else, I step into the pool.

The water barely covers my breasts. The warmth soothes my aching muscles. I rub away the sweat and sand, letting my hair float free, before submerging my head to wash away the blood and salt. The throbbing in my thigh slows down. When my face breaks the surface, a splash next to me makes me rub my eyes and look straight into the solid, bronzed plane of his pecs.

“Let me see this slash, Talysse,” he murmurs, his eyes reflecting the ethereal glow filling the cavern. I swallow hard and nod, realizing that my nipples tighten painfully and it is all too visible in the clear water. His hands close around my waist. He lifts me and places me on the edge of the pool—my bare arse on the soft moss, my feet still in the water. I press my knees together and bite my lip, breathing heavily, tormented by flashbacks of our moment in the palace kitchens, but his eyes are on the cut slicing my skin. He brushes his fingers along the wound, softly whispering some unintelligible words. Sparks follow his touch, and I let a ragged breath out, stunned by how replenishing the sensation is.

“Viridis has taught me a bit of healing magic. My kind is not very skilled with it. It’s a Seelie art, but it worked well on you. Here, take a look.” Aeidas’s hands rest on my knees now, and his touch sends trembles along my skin, which is craving more. “How does it feel?”

The slash is nearly gone; transformed into a pink line along my thigh. The prickle of magic still lingers over it, but the poisonous hot pulse inside is gone.

I drape some wet hair over my shoulders to cover up. What a stupid move. I think it is obvious how it feels. My nipples are hard, my breasts heavy with need just by watching him nearly naked, so close to me. Every detail of his powerful body is visible in the clear pond: every line of his stomach, every scar, and every stroke of his royal mark. His broad chest narrows down to a lithe waist, and there, something hard and massive is straining his loincloth. Slickness spills between my thighs onto the thick moss, and I look away, embarrassed. Surely, he can smell me. The prince is even closer now, looking at me hungrily, his fang digging into his lush lower lip.

He is my enemy, I remind myself. It would be best if I get dressed and head into the night outside.

Yet nobody would know if I stayed just a little longer. It’s only me and him here.

Then I do something shameless and crazy, something Myrtle would applaud. Mad as it is, it feels right, and it’s the only way to quench that thirst inside me since that night in the kitchen. I part my knees, granting him a full view of my glistening, wet, bare sex.

“Talysse—” That’s my name, yes, but it’s followed by a sound that simply cannot be human. Or Fae. It is a deep, bestial growl, a promise for sweet, sinful, violent things.

Visceral things I crave and fear at the same time, no matter that my mind sounds alarm bells, screams how devious and selfish Unseelie are, how this is just a trick, a distraction. He would probably strangle me in the fits of passion, or ravage my body in some dark, unspeakable ways and leave me maimed and bleeding. Their kind is rumored to be…savage.

“Talysse,” he repeats hoarsely, flicking his wet silver strands over his shoulders. His eyes are completely black now, fixed on me; calloused fingers crawl up the inside of my thigh, closer and closer to my entrance, leaving a trail of goosebumps and scorching need. My nipples peek between the cascade of wet hair, and his dark, predatory gaze sweeps over them before locking with mine. His knuckles brush over my soaked, swollen folds as he leans in.

I whimper.

Cymmetra, help me.

His kiss is feral, a mix of demand and despair. As if he’s trying to claim me while knowing this might be our last moment. Aeidas drinks me and consumes me, his hand at the back of my neck, pulling me in, holding me captive. I let out a moan when his finger circles my slit and dives in, curled in a way that touches something inside me, awakens something primal and savage. He lets go for a second, letting me take a breath, before continuing his onslaught. My hands land on his chest, and I swear my intention was to push him away. Instead, my fingers stroke his velvet bronzed skin, exploring the hard swells of his muscles, then close around his neck and pull him down to the floor with me.

Oh, Elders, help me! The sweet weight of his body is crushing me, and his hot rugged length is pressed against my mound. Moaning shamelessly, I rub myself slowly and deliberately against him, feeling his hardness throbbing under the thin fabric between us, while his finger continues caressing me on the inside. Arching into him, I serve my flesh to his hungry mouth as his tongue circles a nipple and his hand cups and squeezes it possessively. My eyes roll into my skull as his fangs gently graze the tender area.

“So beautiful,” he murmurs between licks, and I fist his silky hair, trying to draw him even closer. His finger withdraws from my entrance, and he pushes my knees apart.

“There’s no way back if I take this off, Talysse,” he whispers. “Are you sure you want this?”

“Mhm,” I murmur between his brutal kisses in one final attempt to regain my sanity, “only one of us would make it out of the Trials alive, Aeidas.” He freezes and looks at me with an intensity that makes me squirm. Elders, I don’t want him to stop.

“There are many long hours until daylight, Talysse.” His low voice holds a promise of unspeakable pleasures. My body is straining, pressing against his, seeking his touch. Oh, what a fool I am. Letting myself get seduced by the Unseelie Prince. “Let’s pretend the Trials don’t exist. Let us just be Aeidas and Talysse here. When the sun rises, I’ll be the Heir to the Unseelie crown, and you will be the most powerful human mage I’ve ever met.” His whisper against my ear makes me thrash in his arms, needing more of him. “But until then, let’s do what we both desire. Nobody would know. What happens here is our secret.” His body is tense over mine, and I know he won’t touch me unless I demand it.

“Nobody would know,” I repeat, tasting the words and liking them. “Tonight, we will be Talysse and Aeidas and live through this, and in the morning…we’ll see.”

If Atos breaks the floor of this blessed cavern and declares he’ll toss me into his darkest hell pit afterward, I’d still say yes. Unwilling to waste more time, I simply pull on the annoying cloth, managing to loosen it. He lets out another warning rumble when his heavy cock is released, thick and hard, a bead of moisture glistening on its silky crown. Thick veins bulge on its sides, and I gasp, struggling to imagine how this would fit inside me.

“Have you…been with a human before?” I ask, arching up and presenting my dripping opening to him.

“No, but it will fit,” he rumbles between licks and grazes. He presses my knees even wider, and I feel the stinging stretch at my entrance. His lips return to mine as he slowly glides in, letting me savor every thick inch of his magnificence.

Stretched to that delicious border between pleasure and pain, I crave more. My flesh clenches around him, desperate for friction, and I greedily grind myself, each vein of his cock sending ripples of pleasure from my core down to every single part of my body with every slow, deliberate plunge. His hand is protectively cupping my nape, his lips trailing gentle little kisses along my jaw and down my neck.

“Are you all right, Talysse? Are you ready?” he whispers, and I moan in response, wet and filled, ready to be ravaged. “Hold on to me then,” he rasps a warning and unleashes himself.

His savage thrusts make us skid along the moss. Surely, there will be some scratches and bruises on my back later, but who cares? Sheathed inside me almost completely, he touches some secret spot with every brutal stroke, and I’m edging closer and closer to my release. My hollering gets louder, and he captures my lips, swallowing every sound.

Blissful white light blurs the world around me, and waves of all-consuming pleasure ripple from my core to the ends of my hair, curl my toes, and nearly make me black out. Clawing at his back, I hang onto him, my only anchor to this world, while the ripples of pleasure still echo inside me. Sucking my lower lip, he growls inside my mouth, and shoves himself with one final, savage thrust, and the hot spurts of his seed fill me while my insides clamp around his cock, pumping him dry.

Sweaty and heaving, we collapse in each other’s arms, and the serenity of this tiny chapel claims us.

I do not believe in love vows; I’ve witnessed a change of heart and deception too often. But there are actions that bind two souls, and after this, in the eyes of Seuta, we belong to each other.

I’m the one who awakens first, taking in the music of the water and the insects and his calm breathing. Aeidas looks like an Elder who has lost his way and ended up in this dying world, peacefully asleep in my arms. His warrior’s chest rises up and down, his beautiful features smoothened by sleep. The long strands of his platinum hair are strewn on the moss around his head like a shimmering halo. The lower part of his chiseled plane stomach is dusted with fine dark hair, which forms a perfectly shaped dark triangle between his strong thighs.

His thick cock is resting on his stomach, half-hard, and I cannot stop myself from taking a closer look. I lean in, and before shame or any other thought hinders me, my lips close around it. It stiffens immediately, and Aeidas, eyes still closed, responds with a soft thrust. I slide my lips up and down his length, savoring his taste and the sensation of him getting hard again under my caress.

Eagerly, I take him deeper into my mouth, and I can swear that this is the finest dish I’ve ever tasted. Slickness pools between my thighs, and I slip a finger between them, spreading my folds. Then I do the most daring thing ever: I pull his glistening, bulging shaft out of my mouth and straddle him in one swift motion. His eyes flutter open, and his glowing jade irises darken when he realizes what’s happening. I’ve halfway impaled myself on his hardness, writhing at the completely new sensation. Steely fingers dig in the flesh of my hips as he holds me in place and forcefully sheaths himself into me.

“Do you like that, mm?” His voice is raw and dangerous; I glide up and down his length, shamelessly serving my breasts to his mouth. “Oh, you like it,” he rumbles and picks up my pace. Aroused by my daring move, he slams inside me, the sounds of his flesh meeting mine echoing in the cavern.

“Oh, Talysse…you will be my undoing!” he breathes and angles his hips, sending me over the edge. “Let me see you.”

Before I can collect myself, I’m on my knees and elbows, my ass and opening, still twitching with aftershocks, right before him. He impales me, looming over my back, his hands around my hips. My knees will be surely bloodied, a distant voice remarks, but it doesn’t matter. His skilled fingers have found my clit, teasing it with every thrust. Pleasure takes us both at the same time, our lips murmuring each other’s names like a sinful prayer to a deity only we worship.

“I have never experienced such pleasure, Talysse,” he whispers when we roll on the soft moss, completely spent. He pulls me in, and I settle into the curve between his shoulders and his neck—a place I favor—and breathe in his scent. The scent of our love-making. Something causes me slight discomfort in this bliss. My bracelet is warm, stinging my skin as if punishing me for what I’ve just done.

And as if this is not enough, Aeidas gently tips my nose.

“Look, Talysse.” He points at the moss around us. Tiny blue flowers sprout and grow at the altar of our passion as if Cymmetra herself is blessing us.