Page 174 of The Shadow Wand

Valasca coughs out an amused laugh and gives me a knowing look as she rolls out her own bedding. Chi Nam simply nods, her savvy gaze passing over both Lukas and me once more before she leaves to stand sentry.

I hug the bedding to my chest as I venture down the slim hall, acutely aware of Lukas quietly following, his out-of-control heat lapping at my back as we step through another curtained doorway into Chi Nam’s dimly lit meditation room.

Unlike all the other halls and rooms, there are no glowing runes marking the walls or suspended in the air of this small room. Only a single rune lamp emits a soft blue glow.

A low-set altar is placed against the rocky wall. It holds a silver incense brazier and a small statue of an ivory dragon wreathed by white birds, and I’m reminded of Raz’zor. There’s what appears to be a Noi religious text placed by the dragon, its black leather imprinted with the image of Vo, the ivory dragon goddess the statue depicts, as well as a series of several small metallic bells of various colors.

“I can take that, Elloren,” Lukas offers, his voice a low thrum as he holds his hand out for some bedding, the crooked smile on his lips tangling my thoughts.

My hand trembles as I give Lukas a bedroll and pillow, acutely aware of the smoldering look he’s giving me and how hot his fire’s running.

Lukas sets down his bedroll by a wall and rolls it out in one smooth motion, then languidly sits down on it, looking relaxed as he watches me.

I set up my own bedding near the opposite wall, a few handspans away from him, and lie down on it, growing ever more flustered by how intensely Lukas’s fire is reaching for mine.

Lukas smirks at me. “Keeping a polite distance?”

I swallow, unsettled by my awareness of his maleness and how gorgeous his emerald-dusted body looks in the soft blue light. I can barely hold my fire and earth power back from his insistent draw.

I watch as Lukas removes the rune blades strapped under his pant legs and places his two wands beside his pillow, then lies down and turns his head toward me, his gaze steady, his fire beckoning as I stare into his eyes.

Regaining some control over his power, Lukas sends out one tendril of his fire, slow and teasing. Caressing me, but in a deeper way than usual. Stroking. Long and slow. I glance uneasily toward the curtained door, heat prickling to life on my cheeks, along my neck.

Then he pulls back, smiling, as if he’s waiting for me.

We’re both quiet for a protracted moment, the stillness broken only by the deepening rise and fall of my chest as tension sizzles in the air between us.

Feeling reckless, I throw out my own line of fire.

Lukas smiles as he catches my line and pulls it in. Then he sends out an answering rush of magic, teasing it down my lines, his magic now caressing every part of me quite wantonly as I struggle to keep my breathing even.

I lie there, every part of me pulsing with heat, the pleasure radiating until it’s low inside me. Both of us are breathing deeply as his earth magery flows into me and mine into him, branches curling and twining. I throw out another slim line of my fire, then send a harder blaze along it, searing it into his entire body. Lukas gives me a deeply carnal look, then flows a cascading blaze of fire out to me, his magic torching through my lines.

We lie there for some time, our fire and earth magic caressing every part of each other with increasingly brazen intimacy as Lukas shudders and looks at me with a desire so fierce that I know it will override any concerns about other people just down the hallway.

He holds his hand out to me with firm insistence. “Come here.”

There’s nothing gentle in the request. There’s a demand in it, fueled by overwhelming want that’s both wildly enticing and intimidating all at the same time.

I glance toward the rune-curtained doorway. “Lukas, no. They’ll hear...”

He half smiles, desire swimming in his gaze as he keeps his hand extended toward me. “Then let’s go somewhere else.” Again, there’s a command in it. A rough edge to this desire of his.

“You’re hurt,” I remind him, dazed from the desire he’s sparking in me.

“My shoulder’s a bit sore still,” he says, a wicked gleam in his eyes. “The rest of me isn’t.”

For a moment I want to be reckless. To throw myself into his overwhelming passion and let him take me any way he wants. As if sensing my hesitation, Lukas reaches out more insistently, losing all vestiges of amusement. But he’s too intense and affected by the tiragand too full of a domineering want at the moment. I don’t take his hand.

His expression tenses with frustration, and he balls his outstretched hand into a fist and withdraws it, breathing deeply. A torrent of his fire rushes through my lines, and when I meet Lukas’s gaze, there’s a hunger in it so intense that it stuns me.

Lukas’s voice is low and impassioned when it comes. “I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my entire life.”

I know he’s not just talking about this moment. He’s not just talking about wanting to take me, right now. He’s saying something of far greater significance.

Moved by his open display of both his feelings and his desire, I lift my hand, ever aware of the lines that mark me just under the glamour. “We’re fasted. You have me.”

His fire gives a harsh flare as he finally looks away. “No, Elloren,” he says, a different pain clear in his tone. “I don’t.” He stares at the ceiling, his torrent of fire wrenched away, only the slight chill of the cave remaining as a pang of grief spears through me.

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