Page 95 of Eluvonia
I can’t help but smile against his lips, drunk on the way he touches me, on the way his fingers move in slow, intoxicating strokes that unravel me piece by piece. I kiss him again, pouring everything into it—desire, surrender, the raw need clawing its way through me.
His fingers work me with deliberate precision, teasing and coaxing as he builds a steady, devastating rhythm that stokes the fire burning in my core. My body reacts instinctively, hips rolling into his touch, seeking more,needingmore. I whimper against his lips, the sound a desperate plea, and he answers it without hesitation.
His pace quickens, each stroke deeper, more consuming. The pleasure intensifies, curling low in my belly, winding tighter and tighter with every motion. His breath is hot against my skin, his body a wall of searing heat pressing against mine, the rigid length of him a silent promise of everything still to come.
He breaks the kiss with a ragged breath, his forehead resting against mine, his movements unrelenting. My gasps come in frantic bursts, my nails digging into his skin, dragging downhis back, leaving behind streaks of red as I cling to him. He groans, the sound raw and primal, vibrating against me like a caress.
The tension inside me coils impossibly tight, every nerve in my body wound to the brink of breaking. And then—like a dam shattering, like the first crack of a wildfire breaking free—I come undone.
Pleasure crashes through me in pulsing, overwhelming waves, my body trembling in his hold as I cry out, the sound lost to the vastness of the forest around us. His arms tighten around me, steadying me as I shatter, his name a breathless whisper on my lips, my body still pulsing around his fingers as he works me through every last blissful tremor.
I feel him watching me, his gaze dark, molten with hunger, his breath ragged. But he doesn’t move—not yet. He just holds me, watching, waiting, like he’s memorizing this moment, burning it into his soul.
And gods help me,I want more.
Slowly, he withdraws his fingers, his touch lingering as if reluctant to let go. He raises them out of the water and to his mouth, his eyes locked on mine as he tastes me, a low, satisfied moan escaping him. “You taste like the heavens,” he murmurs, his voice rough with desire.
Before I can respond, a distant noise cuts through the stillness, pulling us both back to reality. His wings fold back into his body, and he chuckles softly, his hands settling on my waist to steady me. “I’m not done with you, my Líðr,” he murmurs, his voice a promise that sends a shiver down my spine. “But when I have you again, it’ll be somewhere far away from interruptions. Somewhere I can take my time.”
His words linger between us as he pulls me closer, his warmth grounding me even as my mind reels.
Chapter 40
AERIS
The days blur together like leaves caught in a lazy wind. I settle into a rhythm: waking early, training with the Earth Ymiral, and spending evenings with Declan and Kaida in the makeshift camp we’ve come to call home. Kaida hasn’t so much as grazed my skin since that night in the pond, but he lingers. His glances burn—quick, heated flicks of his blue eyes—and every so often, his shoulder brushes mine, his restraint humming like a taut string.
Does it excite me? Terrify me? Maybe a little of both.
Today is no different. The morning sun filters through the forest canopy, painting the ground in dappled light as the Earth Ymiral leads me through yet another grueling training session. My fingers tingle as I summon a bow from vines, thorny arrows forming with a thought. She watches me with her usual critical gaze, arms crossed, her expression unreadable.
“Why now?” I ask during a lull, my breathing labored. “Whytrain me if I’m just going to leave Eluvonia to find Julien?”
Her gaze softens, if only slightly. “You should still be able to access your magic, even off this realm. The elements power you, Aeris, not just Eluvonia’s soil beneath your feet.”
Her words stick with me, lingering like roots burrowing deep into the earth, even as the day drifts on.
By the time evening rolls around, I’m seated on a makeshift log bench with Declan, the journal spread out between us. His brow furrows as he flips to a section he’s been pouring over all week.
“This part here,” he says, tapping the page. “Sylvtharn. According to the journal, that’s where the dwarves went after relocating from Eluvonia. He also writes about how fascinating the place is and how much he’d love to see it someday.”
“Sylvtharn,” I echo, leaning back and crossing my arms. “That’s definitely a lead.”
Declan tilts his head, worry etched into the faint crease between his brows. “What if he’s not there?”
“Then we see if anyone there knows where he is,” I say, shrugging as if it’s the simplest thing in the world. “We need to start somewhere.”
His gaze meets mine, steady and warm. His hand comes up, brushing against my cheek with a tenderness that momentarily leaves me at a loss for words. “You’re correct, of course,” he murmurs, pride flickering in his voice like the glow of fireflies.
A sharp rustling draws both our attention. Kaida steps into the clearing, his eyes narrowing slightly as he catches Declan’s hand lingering too long.
“So,” Kaida says, voice clipped. “Have you found a locationyet?”
Declan drops his hand, a grin sliding across his face. “I think we have.”
Kaida nods, his expression unreadable. “Alright, so we—”
BOOM.
