Page 76 of The Dryad Storm

Her magic and feelings suddenly upending, Gwynn tenses and gives him a slight push away, even as everything in her yearns to keep him close.

Mavrik responds immediately, unlinking their bodies, but his magic keeps hold of her in a fervid embrace of color, their bodies lit up with it

Gwynn moves away, her heart constricting. She catches his quick look of concern and confusion as she draws on her clothing. Mavrik tugs on his pants, his magic a tempest of emotion, eyes blazing as he lifts his hands to study his wrists’ new golden Sealing lines.

“I think we did it,” Gwynn manages, conflict brewing inside her like a storm.

Because she loved it. Even though she fought the feeling, shelovedbeing with Mavrik.

Much more than she ever loved being with Geoffrey.

“I think we’re fully Sealed,” she roughly states, her out-of-control emotions surging as she takes in his body once more.

His handsome form glimmers with incandescent streaks of rainboweverywherethey touched. For a moment her gaze is riveted on him, her pulse thudding as her eyes flick over the lingering effects of their impassioned coupling.

Mortification rises in a relentless tide because she knows, from the tingling energy coursing over her own skin, that her body shines in a similar way.

Mavrik moves toward her, his power shimmering around her in loving embrace, as if he can read her conflict, read her drawing away from him. “Gwynn,” he says, taking gentle hold of her shoulder. “There’s something deeper here than just overtaking a Sealing—”

“Stop.” Gwynn cuts him off, the fault lines of religion and culture threatening to pull her into their gaping chasm. “Please. I can’t.”

“Hey,” he says, holding his ground even as she flexes her shoulder, attempting to shrug him off, even as every speck of her magic strains toward him. “This isn’t evil,” he sets down in firm refute of the internal war Gwynn knows he can feel sparking through their magic. “No matter what you’re thinking,” he insists, “what just happened between us... it wasn’t wrong. I genuinely want you, regardless of this situation.”

His hand slides down to caress her upper arm, his touch tentative, and she shudders against it. Fights her magic’s bucking pull toward him.

And then Mavrik releases her arm and holds out his gold-fastline-marked hand, palm up.

Gwynn stares at it, tears stinging her eyes, his power caressing hers with loving strength.

She slides her hand into his, and the two of them study each other for a protracted moment, the fierce alliance in their shared gaze sending a flush of heat through Gwynn’s lines.

His lips ticking up, Mavrik lifts her hand and gently kisses her palm, a potent rush of his magic flowing into her, as if his floodgates have been fully breached.

Hers blown wide open.

“Allies,” Gwynn forces out. “It’s all I can be to you right now. Allies fighting against the cursed Shadow.”

His jaw tightens, and Gwynn’s heart clenches over the hurt that flashes through their intimately linked magic—a connection that’s stronger than anything sheeverhad with Geoffrey.

Remorse surges, turning her magic into a rioting tempest of dark blues.

“All right, then, myally,” Mavrik drawls, challenge in the word. She can sense him holding back the hurt. Holding back a thousand protests to the contrary.

A more intense warmth for him sparks in her.

Because she can also sense him giving her space to work this out, as he puts the bigger picture ahead of this thing building between them... and ahead of his turmoil over her response to it.

“This Sealing,” Gwynn forces out. “It’s strengthened our connection.” Her throat goes dry as she meets his gaze once more, color raying through them both.

He nods, and Gwynn can sense it’s taking everything in him to mirror her formal distance, his eyes piercingly serious as he traces his thumb over the back of her hand, the enticing motion making her shiver.

“We should get some sleep, my beautiful...ally,” he offers, lifting her hand once more and gently kissing the back of it, the mischief lighting his eyes cutting through the confusion of the moment. “And tomorrow,” he croons, “we’ll portal to the Northern Forest, break into it, and intercept the Prophecy.” A harsh look enters his golden gaze. “And then we’ll find the Forest’s Great Tree, bind its magic to ours, and run every forbidden color straight through Vogel’s Shadow power.”

Chapter Three

Forest Fire

Elloren

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