Page 87 of Claws of Death

His hand traces the collar of my leathers where the steel vines form a hedge. Like on a silent command, they retreat at his touch, creeping back against my shoulders, and the buckles of my jacket come undone. Whether it’s Myron’s magic or that of the spelled leathers, I don’t care. The cool night air kisses my skin through my undershirt, and my breasts are no longer trapped. Myron’s fingers haven’t moved from my collarbone, so I guide them down my chest to the sensitive flesh of my nipples. Myron sucks in a breath as his fingers graze the hard rosy buds. His hips roll against my backside, his thigh between my legs lifting me an inch so I feel his arousal pressing lightly against me.

“We’ll fall off this roof,” I mutter between kisses.

“Worth it.” His breathless chuckle runs through me like sweet poison.

“I mean it, Myron. If we continue up here, we’ll tumble over the edge and break our necks.”

He pinches my nipple, eliciting a moan from me that he muffles with a kiss. “I’ll blissfully tumble over any edge with you, Ayna. Preferably together. But tonight, all I need is for you to trust me. I promise I won’t let you fall.” He licks up the side of my neck, leaving a blazing trail of fire. “At least, not over the edge of the roof. I have a better one in mind.”

The vines around my hips yield to his touch, clearing his path as his one hand moves from my stomach to the waistband, while the other continues to caress my breast. The small ache where he pinched me has turned into a sensitivity that makes me arch into him every time he brushes against it.

“Do you trust me, Ayna?”

I don’t need to think about my responses. I trust him with my life. “Always.”

His growl is guttural and predatory, but his fingers are gentle as they undo the laces of my pants and slide beneath the leathers. With a roll of his hips, he pushes me against his hand, fingertips sliding into the wetness between my thighs. I bite back another moan, bucking my hips to give him better access. Myron chuckles against my neck. “Even if I didn’t have my fingers on you right now, I could smell how wet you are for me.”

I don’t object because I’m liquid, and I want him to slide deeper.

Myron uses his free hand to shove my pants a few inches down, as much as my spread thighs will allow. It’s enough for his fingers to graze my center, and fuck. The. Guardians: pleasure explodes in my core, searing me like a godsdamned everlasting torch. My shoulder is tingling the slightest bit.

I haven’t checked on the scar because my wound hasn’t hurt in days, but this is the first time I’ve felt something more than pain or numbness.

Shimmying sideways, I skate my hand along his thigh, grabbing onto the hard muscle as he circles the bundle ofnerves at the apex of my legs. He groans his approval, sliding deeper so his fingertips are at my entrance. I want him. So badly I don’t think as I grab behind my hip where his cock is straining against his own leathers. Gods, I want that hard length inside of me.

“Patience, my queen.” His voice is rough, breath a series of ragged gusts against my skin. “You will have your pleasure.”

As he says it, he plunges two fingers into me, and my world splinters. A scream teeters on the verge of escape. I need him with a desperation I’ve never experienced in my life. Slowly, he pumps, his palm pushing against me with the most delicate pressure.

My fingers search for the strings of his pants, but they’re tucked away, and I can’t find the right angle. Myron’s other hand is coasting my breasts, trailing up and down my stomach, and all the while, he’s kissing me like this is indeed the last night we’ll ever have.

“Promise me there’ll be a tomorrow, Ayna, and I’ll fuck you, then.”

Between my legs, his hand moves faster, his braced leg making sure I don’t slide off as I’m trembling around his fingers. My vision explodes in silver light like the stars decided to rearrange in the skies, and my pleasure spikes so hard I finally scream his name.

Myron doesn’t cover my mouth with his, letting the proof of my climax sound into the night, but his shield wraps tighter around us, and I know the silver light was from the protective layer he’s drawn around us. In the distance, an animal scurries across the ground. An owl hootsin the trees nearby. My hand slides from his hip right into his waiting one.

“I promise.” Something stirs inside of me, like a string being pulled from a ball of yarn, and unspools, unspools, unspools, until it hits a mass of bright energy. It hooks itself into it, melting into the throbbing light. It’s a flash of a vision, so brief I wonder if I really saw it, but when it’s gone, the sense of the thread remains.

Myron kisses the corner of my mouth, a quiet sigh following like a ghost he didn’t mean to let go.

“I’m yours, Ayna. I will always be yours. Mind, body, and soul.”

Ayna

The nighttruly is dark when we finally hover in the bushes near the crooked fork in the road we chose for our ambush. Clouds have chosen to clothe the moon in a layer of inky black, and the stars don’t dare look for fear of what will happen if we fail.

They’re not the only ones. Since Myron and I climbed off the roof in our human forms, I haven’t been able to shake the feeling that we’re walking right to our death.

Herinor and Royad are keeping watch from the trees above in their bird form. Kaira and Silas are on the other side of the road behind the set of rocks rounded by water and the harsh winds blowing over the plains throughout the season.Myron, Tata, and I crouch in the bushes closest to the road. There isn’t much space for the caravan to pass through; the guards and soldiers will have to walk in front and behind, which leaves us with the opportunity to attack from the side and the air at the same time without needing to fight our way to the actual wagons first. Tori and Royad sketched the plan, and after site-hopping us all in, we’ve scouted the location to confirm what we want to do is feasible.

Thank the Guardians, we don’t need to improvise. Everything is exactly how Pouly described, and all we need to do is exercise patience. I’ve proven earlier tonight that patience isn’t exactly my strong suit, I’m still carrying the proof of those moments on my body.

When Tori site-hopped us in, he sniffed once and gave me a knowing grin. Tata probably has the decency not to comment on my scent or the traces of it that still cling to Myron, no matter that we washed up by the rain barrel behind the stables.

Any moment now, the wagons will come into view. I can hear the clacking of wheels and the snorting of horses in the distance.

The air is so still I could have believed magic is holding the winds at bay had I not known none of us possess such abilities. My heart thumps in beat with Myron’s. I can sense it like an ancient truth even though I’m not touching him. My hands are firmly on my daggers, drawn and ready to stab my way to the cargo if needed.

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