Page 50 of Steeling Light
Thelightshifts. Pieces of glowing silver come into existence, dancing with the shifting objects, but instead of random objects, they become fireflies, each of them glowing like a star in the sky.
The pieces of me follow the fireflies, each of them becoming a dull silver version of hers. And finally, thepossibilitiesinside me know what I need. Wings grow from my back, and Ainslee grows a pair as well. Not eagle, or raven, or even goose wings, though.
No, these are shimmering and flecked with tiny scales that reflect her light. Barely larger than I am, they move faster than the eye can see, and both of us slowly float into the air, spinning just like the fireflies, slowly rotating as the world glows silver. AsAinsleeglows silver.
I pull her to me, and as soon as her body presses against mine, I crush her lips with mine. A whirlwind of emotions and sensations rolls through me. Emotions and sensations that are not mine. Her emotions. The way her body is experiencing the world. A happiness that I can barely understand. A fierce possessiveness and need to protect. Not to protect against physical dangers, but a need to protect against the ones who could cut with words and shred emotions.
I can feel more than just her body. Her mind, soul, and even desires are splayed open for me. Then I’m no longer floating. I’m standing in a city filled with buildings I know. All of them are overgrown with wildflowers. Vines weave their way over the stone, pink and purple flowers sprouting from green tendrils, and instead of a cobblestone road, thick grass grows at our feet.
The scent of wisteria and veilwood smoke fills the world, and at the center of everything I can see the one thing that’s been ignored. The Keep of Light. It stands unlit and broken. Forgotten in every way, and as people approach it, they suddenly turn around, never getting within arm’s reach of its walls.
“This is your mental landscape,” I whisper. A soft moan is carried by the wind, caressing me in a way that even hands and lips can’t do.
Then it’s all gone, and I’m staring at Ainslee’s shimmering body as we float twenty feet above the ground. The fireflies we created are gone, but a sky full of real fireflies has surrounded us, landed on us, and lit up the world.
“Will you dance with me tonight?” she whispers?
It’s the same thing she asked when we were children, and I’d been too scared to ruin the moment. I don’t need to worry about that now. “I’ll dance with you until the world falls down.”
Chapter 27
My chosen people will not bear arms in these war games. They shall not spread death and misery in the name oftraining. The only reason they shall unsheathe their blades is to protect the ones who cannot protect themselves.
-Adelynne Emlyn, Edicts of Hope
Ainslee
Once upon a time, I thought magic was the power that Immortals wielded. I thought that our gifts from the dragons were the only form of it. I was wrong.
Rhion’s lips on mine are true magic. His fingers moving over my cheek is a song from before dragons, from before people ever picked up sticks and beat each other to death. There is nothing more powerful than his naked body against mine under the light of the moon, of our souls touching within a kiss.
Love is magic, and we had that long before the dragons.
He lays me down on a bed of wildflowers and presses his chest against my bare skin. His skin still ripples occasionally as the pride inside him desperately tries to help. I still shine because there isn’t a single piece of me that isn’t overflowing with life.
“You are the most beautiful creature in Nyth,” he whispers as he looks down at my naked body. “No, you put the moon and stars to shame. If you were the sun, I’d go blind from staring at you.”
He looks at me with such seriousness in his eyes that I can’t help but giggle. “Rhion, you know that you’ve already got my pants off, don’t you? You don’t have to keep wooing me.”
“I will woo you until you beg me to stop,” he says, but then he runs his finger from the crook of my neck down to my collarbone, and it shifts into a claw. He drags it ever so lightly over my skin that instead of leaving blood in its wake, it leaves goosebumps. The giggles end as a soft moan slips from my lips.
The claw moves down my chest to my stomach, and Rhion’s eyes follow it as he explores my body with his eyes. “So beautiful,” he whispers again as if he’s truly in awe.
I can’t help but think that he has no right to say that when he looks like he does. Every inch of his body shines in my light, the shadows gone, and it’s like I’m seeing clearly for the first time.
Golden hair that flows like water down to his shoulders even in my silver light, it hangs over my body. He was built like a mountain, sharp cliffs where one muscle ends and the next begins. Every moment he touches me, I wonder when the rockslide will begin that I can’t escape.
Yet, each touch is soft and loving. He is the sun against my moonlight, except he doesn’t try to outshine me. He never has.
His lips press against my collar, and my back arches against it. Every touch is more sensitive than ever before. He leaves a trail of kisses between my breasts, his gaze never straying from my eyes. I run my hands through his golden hair as his kisses reach my navel.
Those gray eyes watch every move I make. They take in every shiver, and as he presses his lips between my legs, I pull him tighter to me. Liquid lightning replaces my blood as his tongue explores.
I can’t stop the moans or stop my hips from bucking. My hands hold him tighter against me, and the only thing I can think is that I wish I could touch more of him. As if he can read my mind—which he might be able to right now—he runs his arms under my back. In a single fluid motion, he rolls, carrying me with him. My body reacts instinctively, holding myself up as I stare at him between my legs while I sit on his face.
His tongue never stops moving, even while he rolled me over. It shocks me and excites me at the same time. I lean back so I can watch him, my hands pressing against his chest. Part of me doesn’t want him to stop even for a moment—especially the part that keeps grinding against his tongue.
But I want more. I want to touch, to feel, to press the rest of my body against his. I want to make him feel just as good as he’s making me feel. I stand up, my legs still straddling Rhion’s face, and I turn around to face the rest of his body before I kneel again.
