Page 90 of An Empress of Earth & Darkness

Before they made their way to the Temple of the Gods, they would reach the Lake of Rhiannon. The lake was a sacred place below the mountains of Skyelir, shielded by a monstrous forest. It was said to be a spectacular sight. As Emara took in the Skyelir breeze, she could feel her magic tingle in her blood.

Once they had passed the dock authorities, the real journey began. After a full day, they still hadn’t reached the lake yet. The Wolf Moon was mere days away, and her beating energy radiated down on them powerfully. Breighly had informed her that it was considered a mating moon in the wolf community, and it gave birth to new and intense connections.

Or, in her own words, “It made everyone raunchy as shit.”

Emara could have sworn she saw a hint of jade in the glow of the moon, but that could have just been the forest. The area was rich in berries and beautiful flowers that fragranced the air. Trees as tall as the Tower sheltered them as they moved between them and to Emara, it looked like most parts of Skyelir lay untouched.

Artem had informed Torin of a place he and his clan camped out on their many trips here, just on the outskirts of Lake Rhiannon.

“Here where the ground is flatter should be good,” Artem advised, pointing to a small clearing. Gideon dumped a few of his things on the mossy ground; it appeared that he had been carrying Sybil’s supplies too.

Sybil made her way across the clearing and grabbed Emara’s hand. “I wouldn’t mind sleeping under the stars tonight, would you?”

Emara toyed with the idea of sleeping under the stars without a tent. “That sounds beautiful.”

“I don’t think so,” Marcus Coldwell said as he walked past, carrying a massive log. “The women will sleep in the tents; us clan members can handle the wild.”

“Speak for yourself.” A more upbeat Breighly Baxgroll sauntered into the conversion holding an axe. “I think the ladies will choose where they will want to rest their heads tonight and have no questions asked.”

Marcus leaned in, full of mischief. “It’s a good thing you are a wolf and not an empress, Miss Baxgroll. You can rest your little wolfy head wherever you like.”

She flung out her axe, smacking the log from Marcus’ hands. It plummeted onto the toes of his boots.

He let out a shriek and bent down to grip his toe.

“Oops. My little wolfy hands just don’t know how to control themselves these days.”

The group let out a few laughs as several curses left Marcus.

Breighly severed the space between them. “Now who is howling like a little wolf, Coldwell?”

The clan around them broke out into laughter, and Marcus shouted a few curses at them, waving his hands for them to stop. Breighly winked at Emara before leaving to help set up a tent with Gideon.

“Don’t injure my men, Baxgroll,” barked Torin. “And no laughter until this camp looks ready for this evening. I want tents and stations set up quickly.” He glanced over to Emara, who had let out a small chuckle too. His hair looked like spilled ink over his forehead under the silver of the moonbeams, but it was his ocean eyes that caught her attention. They twinkled with sin. “I said no laughter, Clearwater.”

Emara bit down on her lip as she moved a little closer. “Do I need to remind you that you may be their commander but you are not mine, Torin Blacksteel?”

She could feel every ounce of heat that radiated from him as he towered above her. He leaned in to whisper to her, “Do I need to remind you of what you said whilst I had you sprawled over my desk only one night ago?”

A hitch in her breath gave away the fact that she did remember, and that familiar tingle in her core rose up her spine. Nevertheless, she shut it down, knowing that she had to fight for a little bit of control around here. “Commander Blacksteel,” she whispered back, and she could feel her voice lure him closer, “if you don’t keep your voice down and stop barking orders at me, you will never see me sprawled across that desk again.”

All she could see was his dazzling grin. “I better be careful, then, because not seeing you over that desk as I taste every part of you would be an utter travesty.”

She swallowed hard at the thought of him working his mouth all the way down to between her thighs. “Yes, Commander. It would be a travesty, so you better work on that indoor voice before you have a very disappointed empress.”

He brought a hand up to track his fingertips along her collar bone and tuck a wild strand of hair behind her ear. “A commander does not have an indoor voice, angel. So I must beg for your forgiveness.” He leaned in to claim her lips.

She stuck up one finger, and his mouth hit against it. “Well, he better find one soon if he is going to be welcomed by me in my tent tonight. I am sure you’ll figure it out.” She gave him a wink and patted his chest before leaving to make herself useful in the setup of the camp. She heard him whistle softly, but she didn’t dare look back.

An array of cheeses was being passed around, and there were different liquors depending on who you sat next to. The smells of bourbon, whiskey, rum, and wine all lingered in the sweet night air. They’d roasted meat on a fire Emara had started with her own hands. It was good to see her laughing with the clan, accepting them as much as they accepted her. The men didn’t get overly involved with the wives of clan, but she was no ordinary wife-to-be.

Sybil was buttering bread as she sat on a log next to the fire. Lorta and Kaydence sat beside her, a woven blanket around their laps, each taking turns to dish out the food. His mother had come along too—she would never miss Torin’s union—but she was already in her tent for the night. Gideon’s eyes fell back on Sybil. The trees around them seemed to develop more colour as she sat next to them. More flowers started to bloom, even at nightfall, and the sweet smell of cut grass and honey drifted over from where she perched.

Sybil was also an empress, yet here she sat, cutting bread. Something hitched in his chest.

Although Gideon had had a fair amount of food, he wasn’t sure if Sybil had eaten anything yet. She was probably too busy helping the men to take anything for herself. Using his small steel tray, he gathered a few cubes of cheese, a selection of whatever meat was left, and wine before sitting down on her log. The heat from her body touched his arm as he nestled beside her.

Kaydence and Lorta gave one look at each other and then moved quickly away, mumbling about helping Emara.

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