Page 45 of The Demon Tide

A flowing line of Fyordin’s power connects with hers through the wooden door, his fuller power rippling to life as a slim stream of it molds itself against her tempestuous current. Heavy steps sound from inside.

The door opens, Fyordin before her.

Tierney pulls in a hard breath. He’s shirtless with bare feet, nipple-piercings on full display. Thin drawstring pants ride low over sculpted hips, the masculine lines of him standing out so much more clearly than in his uniform...

But even more flustering is the look he’s giving her, concern sparking to life in deep-lake eyes initially so liquid from sleep. A warrior energy gathers in that gaze as he studies her, his magic palpably ready to defend and align.

Tierney finds her ire toward him blunted by that look of Asrai’kin alliance.

“I want to swim to the bottom of the Vo with you,” she blurts out.

Fyordin’s water aura burgeons toward her in a potent tide, but he yanks it back with impressive strength. He gives her a searching look, a trace of rattled exasperation in it. “You are giving me agreat manymixed signals, Advisor Calix.”

“Fyordin,”she counters sharply, half in censure, half in urgent plea. “I need your aid.”

His brow knits, a slender trace of his power breaking loose to flow through her storming aura, and she can feel him putting her obvious distress above his straining urge to let his waves crash into her magic. He opens his door wider and Tierney steps inside, not caring about propriety at this moment. Fyordin shuts the door and stills before her.

Tierney glances around the room, noticing his mussed bed, the various books and weapons strewn about, all of it lit by moonlight streaming in through arching windows overlooking the Vo.

“What aid do you seek?” he asks.

Her gaze swings to his, a jolt running through their currents as their eyes meet. “We amplify each other’s power,” she stiltedly begins, “and—” she swallows, her pulse quickening against the disarming caress of their magic “—so... I need to swim to the bottom of the Vo with you...and touch you.”

Fyordin’s blue brow goes up, a stronger current of his magic breaking toward hers.

“Not likethat!” she blurts as a warm spark of amusement lights his eyes.

“Then how, Asrai?” he asks, warmly patient.

“I need to get a better sense of the river,” Tierney attempts again, too aware of how close he is. How alone they are. How the river isright there. “Fyordin...” she manages as their joint powers reflexively loosen and swirl into a heated caress.

The alluring feel of it seems to catch them both off guard. Fyordin stiffens, liquid want entering his gaze as Tierney completely loses her train of thought, unable to fight the tide. Suddenly not wanting to fight the tide. She steps toward him, pulse thudding, and brings her trembling palm to his bare shoulder.

Fyordin’s power breaks toward her with oceanic strength, rushing through her magic. The room’s walls seem to liquefy, swirling currents of his magic tingling to life under his skin to rush through her palm.

“Oh”is all Tierney can manage, feeling swept toward him as Fyordin’s eyes go half-mast, a shuddering breath escaping his lips.

“Your touch—” he rasps out “—it’s better than I ever imagined...”

Their auras break loose. Tierney pulls him toward her at the same time Fyordin grabs hold of her, his magic and strong arms catching her in a swirling embrace. Tierney shudders, flooded by their joint power with such passionate urgency it steals her breath away, their magic’s furious hunger swiftly rising to tempestuous levels, his body against hers a wild thrill. Fyordin’s eyes are deepening pools, pupils blown wide, and hisscent. Like the deepest depths of the Vo.

Entranced, Tierney reaches up with a trembling hand to touch his silken hair. Fyordin’s breath hitches and he closes his eyes, his expression taking on a look of rapture as she threads her fingers through it, entranced by its waterfall feel. When he opens his eyes and meets her gaze once more, his eyes and power are churning with the full power of the Vo.

“I’m falling for you.Hard,” he groans, seeming to have lost all control of his magic’s surge and flow.

Another whirl of his aura spirals around her, a tingling pleasure she’s never experienced before chasing its flow. “Oh,” Tierney says again, eyes widening.

“Kiss me once, Asrai,” Fyordin offers, leaning in decadently close, his voice pitched low. “Just once.”

He’s trembling, Tierney realizes, stunned by her effect on him as her own tremor of desire kicks up to dazed heights. The liquefied walls around them contract as she fights the yearning to pull him even closer and instead holds him back. “Fyordin...this is a mistake. This isn’t a true draw. Most of the time we’re at full odds with each other.”

A bright swoosh of his power shimmers through her. “I’m notfullyat odds with you, Asrai,” he purrs, a wicked glint entering his gaze as she’s even more intensely swept up in the desire to merge with him like she merges with the Vo. Fully. Nothing held back...

But...no.This is the river’s magic at play, muddling their minds.

She takes a decided step back, breaking physical contact. Breathing hard, she meets his hungry gaze, the room’s walls streaming around them. “I shouldn’t have come here like this,” she manages, voice shaky. “It was wrong of me—”

“Every night, since we first met,” Fyordin says in a tormented voice, “I lie awake wanting to pull you to the bottom of the Vo and...join our tides.” He stops himself, his jaw tensing, and Tierney senses something deeper going on—a rattled edge to this fervent desire.

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