Page 19 of Magic Undaunted

He wrapped his hand in her hair and tugged, pulling her head backward as he ravaged her body, fucking her harder and faster.

“Who ismon amour” he whispered.

“I am. Oh my god, I am,” she breathed.

He pulled her hair hard and slapped her ass as his hips pistoned into hers. He could tell she was close, so very, very close. He slid his hand down between their bodies again, pinching her clit hard just as he angled his hips upward and growled out, “Donne-moi ça!”

Elyria cried out, stifling the sound by biting the bark of the tree. His world exploded into a cascade of colors as he followed moments later, moaning her name like a prayer as he spilled himself inside her. They collapsed together against the tree, panting and spent. He turned her around to face him and kissed her passionately.

"I promise you, I will never fail you again," he breathed against her lips before claiming them again.

They had barely put their clothing back into place before they heard the sound of approaching footsteps. Finnian rounded the corner to find them both armed and ready.

“Ah yes, didn’t mean to interrupt. Lirael is back. She thinks there’s something you should see… both of you.”

Chapter

Eight

ELYRIA

The edge of the Phantom Bayou loomed ahead, still shrouded in mist and mystery even in what little daylight managed to penetrate its ancient trees twisting into the sky like skeletal fingers, grasping for something just beyond their reach. As she stood at the edge of the bayou, Elyria could feel the weight of their mission resting heavily on her shoulders. The air even here at the outer boundary of the bayou was thick with magic—old, malevolent magic that hummed just beneath the surface, waiting to be disturbed so that it could decimate anything that dared, much like the alligators who lurked just out of sight. Somewhere deep within this bayou lay an ancient fae library, abandoned and hidden by the fae when they had consolidated their realm in Celestia. It had been guarded by magical means for centuries, its secrets lost to all but a few.

Elyria, Stryker and the rest of the rebels believed those secrets could well hold the key to stopping the rogue mage.

She glanced at the group gathered around her. Lirael, her most trusted scout, stood with her bow slung across her back, her sharp eyes scanning the bayou for threats. Finnian, ever the steadfast second-in-command, adjusted the grip on his dual blades, his expression grim.

And then there was Stryker.

He stood slightly apart from the others, his gaze darting between the murky waters and the distant horizon, the tension between them no longer as prevalent as it had been. She was keenly aware of his presence, a reminder of everything that had passed between them—the pain, the anger, and the desire that still simmered.

Elyria wasn’t sure how she felt about how he affected her, how much she still wanted him despite everything, but she also knew she wasn’t willing to give him up. Granted, she’d been hurt before—by him, by the Council—and she wasn’t ready to completely trust him with her heart again, but something had shifted since his confession in the aftermath of the attack. The wall she had built between them had begun to tumble down and she wasn’t sure she wanted to shore it back up. Yet, she felt herself slipping, and she wasn’t sure she could afford to slip. Not now; not when the stakes were so high.

“We need to move,” she said, her voice steady despite the tension coiling inside her. “The library is hidden deep within the bayou. If the rogue mage knows about it, he could already be closing in. We don’t have time to waste.”

Lirael nodded, stepping forward. “I’ll take the lead. The paths in the bayou shift. We’ll need to be careful.”

Finnian gave Elyria a tight nod before moving to follow Lirael. Stryker remained still for a moment longer, his gaze drifting toward her before he finally fell into step beside her.

As they entered the bayou, the air grew colder, the magic pressing in around them like a living thing. The trees whispered in a language Elyria couldn’t quite understand, their branches swaying with a rhythm that felt both familiar and foreign. She had been in the bayou before, but never this deep. Few dared to venture so far.

The journey was perilous. The bayou’s paths warped and shifted, sometimes vanishing altogether, leaving them in disorienting patches of fog. But Lirael’s instincts were sharp, and she guided them through the maze with the precision Elyria had come to rely on. Still, the unease lingered.

Stryker’s presence beside her was a constant reminder of everything she had tried to bury—feelings she thought she had locked away, emotions she had sworn never to feel again had come crashing back to the surface. She felt the pull between them with every step they took together, the magnetic connection that had never truly faded.

She couldn’t help but glance at him, the way his body moved with practiced grace, his stubborn jaw set in determination. There was something about him that still called to her, something raw and untamed. He had always been a force of nature, and that force hadn’t diminished with time.

But there was more now: vulnerability, regret, and a renewed trust.

It was that last part that scared her the most. Elyria wasn’t sure she could let herself trust him again, but it was so hard not to. She had been burned before, and opening herself up to him again felt like inviting the flames back into her life.

Still, something had shifted between them, and as much as she fought it, she couldn’t deny the comfort she found in his presence and with his touch. It was a double-edged sword, one she wasn’t sure she could handle.

“Are you all right?” Stryker’s voice cut through her thoughts, low and laced with concern.

Elyria blinked, realizing she had been lost in her own head. She forced a nod. “I’m fine.”

He didn’t look convinced, his dark eyes searching hers for a moment longer. “You’ve been quiet.”

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