Page 83 of The Princesses of Ruin
Winter wind tears at our clothes and rattles the chains of our harness. Alyse hugs our packs to her chest, keeping herself as small as she can to speed our flight.
North.I bank, avoiding a towering cloud of ice. She speaks directly into my mind so frequently now that I’m not certain if it’s her or my imagination, but I follow the directions dutifully.
“It’s me, my love.”
Her voice is a caress, solace in the long journey of howling storms. We’d flown all morning, breaking off from the Seter fellowship at noon after a quick meal. Perhaps our last shared meal. Alyse had hugged Liliana long and hard. I wonder if she thinks this is the end for us, too.
She doesn’t reply to my thoughts, a small, pretended comfort of privacy. Or maybe it is what she believes, and she can’t bear to say otherwise and lie to me.
“Drop lower in elevation, we’re close.”
I find a break in the relentless snow and plummet through the clouds. Ice pelts my cheeks, and I feel the sting of it through the thin leather hood over my face. The warmth between Alyse and my bodybecomes the only thing I care to focus on as we break through to soar among the mountaintops.
“We will need a fresh kill. He’s hungry.”
I sense the location of the dragon in my mind and look to the frigid obelisk of stone the creature calls home. A thick forest covers the base of the tallest mountain and peppers the smaller peaks that surround it. I fly lower, circling and slowing as we look for a place to land. There’s a gap of pushed-over trees from an avalanche not long ago, and I follow the stream of white snow to its resting point.
I use my magic to carve a hole through the top of the mound, then dig through the side, creating a makeshift dwelling for us. I drop down, and though I want to hug Alyse tightly, holding her intentionally for the first time in hours, I unbuckle her instead.
She drops the packs and shakes out her arms, then turns and wraps them around me. I return the gesture, feeling her sincerity in it.
She’s been so distant for a week, but I know it’s the immense pressure she’s under. Her power has grown so significantly since the queen’s crystallization. The weight of her increased range and sensitivity is a great burden, something I can do nothing about. It cuts through me.
“You can hold me,” she whispers, and the sound of her actual voice against my ears constricts my throat.
I squeeze her tighter.
The storm howls at the end of our icy cave, but the air here is warm enough with our bodies heating it. It’s dark, but the ambient glow of the sky glittering through our igloo is enough to see by. The snow crunches under Alyse’s feet as she leans back, her arms relaxing.
I don’t let her go. Not yet. I can’t.
“We should set ourcamp and prepare,” she says.
“Please,” is a rasped whisper from my lips. It’s all I can manage through the lump threatening to strangle me.
I’ve needed her so much more than I can say. I’ve missed her more than the breath that isn’t coming into my lungs. More than the peace I needed as a child-slave.
She holds me harder, squishing her face into the wet leather that covers my neck. I peel the hood off with one hand and unravel her scarf with the other. I need to feel her. I need her skin on my skin.
Her face emerges from the coverings and I press my lips to her cheek. She’s warm and soft, the sweetest balm for the fears that have gripped me for months. She holds my face and turns into the kiss, meeting my lips with hers.
The affection burns my chest. I want to consume her. Make her live inside me forever so I can keep her close.
More.
Please, more.
Alyse unhooks the fasteners of the harness, eachsnapthreatening to unleash me upon her. Our kiss turns fevered as her hands move to the buttons on my flight jacket. I undress her with frenzied movements until our clothes are a pile below us.
My magic keeps the warmth of our bodies close to us as I kneel and sit back onto my heels. I draw her onto my lap with hurried movements. She’s wet and welcoming as I brush her entrance with my fingers. Her moans urge me on as I massage her in little circles. The sound has me craving more.
More.
Please.
She changes the angle of her hips and slides onto me. I groan, but the noise is strangled in my ruined throat, sounding more likegrinding gravel. She doesn’t care, moaning her own pleasure as I stretch her open.
Her heat envelops me inch by inch, but the hunger for her doesn’t abate. I feast on her lips, thread my fingers in her hair, grope her hip, thrust her against me harder. Harder. More. Deeper. Until I’m chasing that blissful release that only she can give me.
