Page 55 of An Empress of Earth & Darkness

She moved again, this time circling her hips like what his wicked fingers had done to her. He hissed, biting his lips so hard. The veins in his neck started to appear.

“You have never been more magnificent than you are now, taking me all the way into you,” he rasped.

She lowered herself again, gliding down him further, placing her hands into his solid chest. She dug her nails in as she rolled again, taking him deeper and a little quicker. But this wasn’t the pace that she was used to with Torin.

She plunged down, finally taking everything he had to give. All of him.

“Fuck,” he breathed, his hands slipping to her hips. “You feel so fucking good.”

That was all she needed to hear as she began rocking against him. She never knew how fierce it could feel to be on top of a man like Torin Blacksteel and watch as he lost all control. He gripped her hips as the two of them moved together, grinding into ultimate satisfaction. Torin quickened his thrusts to meet hers, and the pounding of their skin could be heard over their gasps.

A second release built up in Emara’s stomach, travelling all the way to her toes and right back up her spine. The final thrust he gave before his release came sent a wave of undiluted exhilaration into every part of who she was. She moaned his name, and he called out hers too. When she opened her eyes, she found the same slick expression on his face as he lay back watching her. Both covered in perspiration, they embraced each other, panting.

Existing.

Together.

Torin pulled back again and pushed the untamed hair from her face. After a few minutes of laboured breaths, he said, “If the Gods are not in my corner tomorrow, I want you to know...” He took her face in his large hands once more. “I will die free.” He placed his head to hers and wiped away the tears that were now blinding her. “You freed me, Emara Clearwater. You allowed my heart to be free.”

A cry broke from her lips, but he silenced her with a kiss. Before she could break down entirely, he swept her up in his arms and walked towards his bed, promising to kiss her until the sun broke through the kingdom.

No hunter spoke as Emara made her way through the gardens to an old sparring room that lay open on the outskirts of the Tower. The stonework had crumbled and the old ruins were used as a training facility, often where archery or axe-throwing would take place instead of the sparring room.

But not today.

The morning dew had just descended across the shrubberies, and in the sky, clouds of orange, yellow, and gold began drifting their way across the kingdom to wake her. The setting was a contradiction to what was about to take place here, a history that should be etched in a palette of storms and chaos. This would be a battle that should be fought in harsher conditions—something more fitting than a calm sunrise and pretty songbirds.

It felt wrong. It all felt wrong, and Emara’s stomach hadn’t stopped rolling. But the sun’s presence was mere moments away, and maybe the Gods would rise with it and protect Torin. Her heart was pounding in her chest as she kept her eyes on the ground. One foot in front of the other; that was all she needed to do. Breighly Baxgroll trailed behind her, quiet and pale and so very unlike herself as she blended in with her empress maids. Artem was nowhere to be seen, but the possibility of him being with Torin was high. She wasn’t sure if she was unsettled not to see Torin beforehand or if she was secretly relieved to have a few moments to gather herself.

There was nowhere to sit, but it was evident that a marker had been etched into the gravel, a marker of where the challengers where to stay until one of them had taken their last gasp.

Emara’s darkness tugged at the strings of her magic, and as she walked through the space, she could feel the dark magic push through her veins, urging for release. Air was swirling inside her like a possessed spirit, her stomach matching the motion. Fire was heating her palms, but she pulled it back too before it ignited all through the gardens. Emara felt a Light presence with her, not from Lorta or Kaydence who walked beside her, but from something more regal, more ancient. Spirit was here, the ancestors also coming to this momentous occasion. And the minute this fight began, she knew the element of earth would urge her to heal, to help.

But there would be nothing she could do.

If Torin was hurt, or worse, she wouldn’t be able to go to him. He would bleed out on the ground. The darkness, like a spider, crept in through the cracks of her walls and began forcing its way out. She pulled it back, knowing how busy the clearing was. If she had an outburst of darkness right here, she would reveal her blood.

She halted, noticing everyone looking in her direction. She couldn’t go down this route. The darkness was taking her mind to a place of defeat. She couldn’t be there. She had to stop herself from getting lost down that rabbit hole of despair. She had to have faith in the Gods to protect him and faith in her ancestors on the Otherside to treat him well. Even if she was drowning in fear on the inside, she would never show that on the outside. She would prove today why she was Torin’s equal.

She was strong, unyielding, and powerful.

Her coven would expect nothing less, and neither would the other witches who would hear of this day. The clans would expect nothing less. By now, this event would be the talk of the kingdom, and all eyes would be on her to see if she crumbled.

A hand on her shoulder sent an unnecessary shiver down her spine as she turned to see Marcus Coldwell’s dark eyes gazing upon her face. He bowed quickly. “Empress of Air.”

She nodded, separating herself from the girls. “Marcus, you know to call me Emara.”

“I know, but I still like the sound of Empress of Air.” He smiled kindly.

She couldn’t even falsify a smile as she stood watching him.

He held out his arm for her to take, and Lorta and Kaydence moved into step behind her. Breighly walked off to the left, giving them a little space to talk. Marcus gave her arm a quick rub. “I thought you would need someone to hold onto as the Blacksteels are preoccupied.”

She gripped his arm tighter. A few more hunters arriving had her stomach somersaulting. “How do you hunters always remain calm in the face of death?”

They took a few more steps past the can. “You’re going to be okay,” Marcus said on a low breath. “He is going to be okay. I know it.”

She closed her eyes for the briefest moment. “The Gods know I have prayed for it enough.”

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