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"Go take care of the meat so we can eat later," Loric commands the others, his tone leaving no room for argument. Then his eyes meet mine once more, his posture rigid. "And you..." he pauses, shaking his head. Loric steps closer, glass grinding beneath his boots. His head turns, listening over his shoulder. Once the door shuts and the others are out of the room, he lets out a deep breath, and when his eyes return to mine, they're not nearly as cold. They're concerned. "You scared the shit out of me."
His hand is on my arm, firm but not forceful, helping me sit up.
"I'm sorry," I murmur as he leads me down the dark tunnel, his arms keeping me steady. "I thought if I could prove to herthat I could use my magic to protect myself, then she'd stop with the whole heat thing. I felt bad about making all of you uncomfortable."
"Well, it worked. She did stop, but you don't need to apologize. I'm just glad you're okay." His deep timbre makes my breath catch.
It worked?
"Yes... It worked. We'll try things your way."
I smile wide in the dark, my heart fluttering. Brenn was right...
"Please, next time you decide to do something like this, at least wait for me. I'd much rather be here to help than have you rely on Brenn," his voice is low and rough like gravel. We're halfway down the stairwell when he stops abruptly, turning to face me. "And speaking of the asshole. Take that shit off." My back brushes against the stone as he leans into me, his fingers fumbling with the buckles of the jacket in the dark. I can't look away from his glowing silver eyes, the light barely illuminating his features. I shrug off the leather, and Loric tosses it onto the stairwell. "He can pick it up on his way down."
Velvet brushes the back of my hand, and I lean forward, my head tipping back to avoid hitting his chin as he threads the cloak around my shoulders, making quick work of the tie at the neck. His breath caresses my face and he makes no attempt to move, not to head farther down the stairs or to back away from me. It's like he's fixed to the stone steps.
"A bit jealous, are we?" My voice is so quiet I worry that I said the words inside my head and not out loud.
He steps closer, glowing orbs bearing down on me until there isn't a sliver of space between us. "Yes." His lips find mine with a hunger that speaks of fear, of relief, ofpossession. It's a collision of everything unsaid, every emotion we've danced around. The pull that seems to taunt us when he's near me. When he pulls away, his breath ghosts over my cheek, sending shiverscascading down my spine. I open my eyes, but the fluorescent rings of his are gone, having returned to their normal sterling gray.
"Sorry," he says. "I told you my creature was an ass. Heat or not, he seems to think he's already bitten you." Loric's thumb traces the freckles scattered across my cheeks like a map of constellations.
I can taste the unspoken promise in his words, and I slide my hands up and around his neck. "So, what? Me wearing your cloak is the next best thing to biting me?"
A rumble sounds from his chest. "It would seem so."
I push up on my tippy toes, but even then, he still has to meet me the rest of the way as I tug on the back of his neck. His lips meet mine again, and my heart flutters, the butterflies in my throat. I'm drowning in the taste of him, the feel of his body against mine, the heat of his skin, and for a fleeting moment, I allow myself to sink into the madness. When I finally pull away, I catch his lower lip between my teeth, tugging gently before letting it go and he groans, his weight pinning me harder against the stone.
"Fuck..." he breathes. "You can't do that to me." He rests his cheek to mine, arms braced against the stone wall on either side of me.
A large part of me wants to do it again, especially now, knowing his reaction is from me and not the heat. But before I can say anything, voices sound from above us as the others make their way down the stairwell. Loric's silver eyes become slits, but he takes a deep breath, and pushes off the stone, and leads me down the stairwell.
Chapter 25
Calamity
It's been almost a week since Asmo left me with Loric and his friends, and tonight, we finally have something other than chocolate or berries to eat. The cavern is alive with the sound of laughter and conversation as they cook the last of the meat they'd brought back.
I didn't have the stomach to ask exactlywhatI ate. I'd chosen to let my imagination fill in the blanks. I'm not sure I would've eaten it had it been something I wasn't used to, and the way my stomach growled at the scent of those flames charring it over the firepit… I needed substance more than my curiosity needed to be sated.
I sit on the edge of the bed in my room, having retired for the night. It just didn't feel right being out there. It felt like I was holding my breath, waiting for Loric to look at me again, to come talk to me, which we haven’t done since our kiss in the stairwell. A part of me thought he might come in here, after seeing me leave, but it was quickly squashed, and I'd decided to keep my mind off it—off him—by flipping through the worn pages of the bestiary. I'm not sure who I'm kidding, believing I can figure itout on my own, but I need to make sense of it all. I need to know what I am, what they are, to have answers.
Though, there are too many species with talons and heat cycles and alter egos that live within them for me to figure out what type of shifter I am based on this book alone. The closest I can narrow it down to is a phoenix, necromancer, or a reaper, due to my power to manipulate life and death. But where it gets complicated is, for Loric and the others to have felt the effects of me being in heat, we'd have to be the same species.
The door creaks open, and Loric enters, his steps slightly unsteady, the sweet aroma of faerie wine clinging to him. His silver eyes glimmer in the dim mage light, catching mine for a moment before I return to the bestiary. "I was wondering what you were doing in here. I'd thought maybe you were drawing."
"No, just trying to learn something from these before we leave. I didn't think you'd be up for taking them with us," I admit, shutting the book with a sigh. "Though I'm starting to think it doesn't matter. There are too many possibilities. I thought I might be able to narrow it down further, but—"
Fingers tilt my chin, cutting off my words, and he bends down to kiss me. It's short, but he barely pulls away, his lips mere centimeters from mine.
"Why'd you do that?" I ask, bringing my fingers to my lips.
"Wanted to." He smirks, reaching out to turn the book over, pages splayed to keep my spot. "Dance with me."
"What?" I reel back, my eyes searching his.
"Dance. With. Me." He holds out a hand, palm up, awaiting my own.
