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“What is done is done.” Her face was a mask of grim certainty. “If they find out, they may punish me. But if we don’t do this, I am dead either way.”
“And I shortly thereafter.” His eyes flickered to the ground beneath the oak tree once again. If she was wrong, the gravedigger would be burrowing two holes in that soil by the morn, for without Sofie, there was no point for Elijah to continue.
But he was not ready to say farewell yet. “One more sunset.” Surely, this madness that loomed behind those emerald eyes would allow for that?
Sofie didn’t respond immediately. When she did, it was with the sharpness of a well-honed blade. “Very well.” The silk layers of her evening gown rustled noisily as she stalked toward the door.
Before she reached it, Elijah was across the room, his hand barring her exit. “You cannot ask it of anyone else.” She knew it, and yet the way she stared back at him, her eyes blazing in defiance, he feared she would act foolishly.
She set her chin with determination. “Then you must trust me.”
“It is not you I don’t trust.” He could not shake this terrible sense of foreboding. “When has Malachi ever granted anyone what they wanted without demanding everything in return?” Of all the fates, the Fate of Fire especially was not known for his compassion, but for his ruthlessness and pride. It had always been this way.
And yet Sofie had decided he was the one to beseech.
Elijah was furious when she first revealed that she had bound herself in servitude to him. It could never be undone.
“But I am a chosen one. Malachi’s flame runs through my veins.”
He sighed with forced patience. Sofie was young and arrogant, her faith in those who had given her immense power unwavering. She had not yet felt their wrath.
Her fingertips traced the outline of his jaw, beckoning him to meet her stare. “If we do nothing, then I am soon gone. I would rather die tonight than lose my hold on this world tomorrow. But I will not die. You will not die. Malachi has assured me of that much,” she insisted, smiling up at him. “And we will handle whatever repercussions should arise. Together.”
She exuded such confidence. He desperately wanted to believe her. There was a reason she was both revered and reviled within the guild. Her powers were unparalleled in this world.
And while those powers would slip away from her eventually, she was willing to sacrifice them all this night for an eternity with him, a truth not lost on Elijah.
“You are insufferable, woman.” There was no hint of anger in his tone.
“Yes, but I will be your insufferable woman, for always.”
He collected her hand in his, bringing it to his mouth to press his lips against the smooth white stone of her wedding ring. He ended the gesture with another sigh, and they both recognized it for what it was—surrender. Elijah would not delay this any longer.
Pulling away from him, Sofie glided to the expansive bed, where they had spent many nights tangled within each other’s limbs. A single candle burned on a nearby table, the only source of light in the chamber but one that glowed bright and permeated the air with the sweet aroma of honey.
He watched with growing arousal as she shed her gown and undergarments until only a canvas of bare skin remained. With a mischievous smile, she mounted the bed and knelt provocatively, her ample breasts heaving with each breath. He could sense her pounding heart, the headiness of her exhilaration. She had implored the fate—drawing on her powers until she’d drained every ounce—and he had heeded her call as the foreboding hour chimed.
“Perhaps these humans are right about their Christian beliefs and you are their devil, here to tempt them,” he teased as he approached her. A nude and eager Sofie was impossible to resist, no matter how dire the circumstance—a fact she well knew.
“Then surely they should never cross me.” She reached for his breeches.
“And is this a requirement of the invocation?”
“This is my requirement. A toll, if you will.” Her fingers moved deftly over the hook and eyes, undressing him with haste. Soon, his clothing lay in a heap next to her silk gown.
They made love with their usual fervor, until their skin glistened, and their heavy breaths tangled, and their cries surely carried through the castle for the household to titter about come morning.
When they were both sated, Sofie swept the damp hair away from her neck, beckoning him forward. “May the fates be merciful,” she whispered, peering up at him through unguarded eyes. They hinted at the same trepidation that consumed him.
He leaned in to inhale her intoxicating scent of rosewater, more potent after their exertion. “If not here, then in Za’hala.” That was a fool’s dream, for it was doubtful his kind would ever pass into that hereafter, but it was a dream worth wishing for. He scraped his teeth against her delicate skin—merely a harmless act of seduction in the past. This time, however, she arched her back, enticing him with the rush of blood that surged through her veins.
Sofie blinked away the fog of unconsciousness while staring at the dense velvet canopy draped above. Murky daylight glimpsed through the window, casting shadows in the bedchamber. Church bells tolled, announcing early service in the village. The faint, sweet scent of smoke and honey lingered in the air.
She smiled, the crushing fear of failure lifting from her chest. She had succeeded.
Weakness weighed down her limbs. Elijah said that would be the case. But already, she sensed that she was changed. Within her body a new heart thumped, slow and steady. This was a new dawn for her. Fates willing, she would see countless more with love and friendship at her side.
“Elijah?” she croaked, her throat raw with thirst. She pawed the mattress beside her, searching for his formidable shape. “It worked. We did it.”
