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“I was heartbroken!” she cried, swatting at his forearm but only slapping her own. “I hardly recalled any of the road I traveled each day, so it made perfect sense that I would also not recall building my fires. Not attending to my own actions while I performed some routine task seemed quite in line with the depth of my despair.”
Was heartbroken. Was.
Warrick had never been happier. “Building a fire has never been a routine task for you. You are spoiled, woman.”
“I am not—” Suddenly she drew herself up, lifted her chin. “I am the Radiant Queen of Aleron. My concerns are more lofty than the gathering of twigs and the striking of sparks. That is why I have a king consort whose only role is to keep me safe and warm.”
So she did. “This king consort would also kiss that laugh from your lips, wife. Then he would push you up against this mirror and fuck his seed into you.”
“Ohhh. That would be…” She licked her lips and let out a shaky breath, her widened eyes meeting his in the glass. “So you would fuck a ghost.”
This woman— “I love you,” he said fiercely. “I love you. And I would take you, in whatever bizarre form you are.”
“As I would you. As we will. Somehow.”
“You begin to believe in your magic again?”
“I know not what I believe in. Was it a prophecy that I spoke into truth that brought us here? Was it magic that made you follow? Or was it merely every choice we made and everything we felt?”
“Merely?” He smiled against her hair. “There is no difference between what we do and feel, and the true magic that comes from it.”
“No difference?” At the confirming shake of his head, she shrugged. “Then what I believe is that I will not allow any other outcome, except that we will be fully together again.” She closed her eyes and reached back, the warmth of her hand cupping his face. “You cannot know much I love you, Warrick.”
“I can,” he said gruffly. “For I do know, if yours is anything near to how I love you.”
“I will trust in that.” Her eyes opened. “What now?”
“Onward.” He lowered his head to press a phantom kiss to the side of her neck. “And even do you not see or hear me, when you feel this warmth, you will know I am there. You will know where I am touching you. Shall I tell you how to please yourself in our bed?”
“No. You will tell me in our bed.”
Determination steeled Elina’s voice. Abruptly she pulled out of his embrace, gripping her axe. With a grunt, she swung it at the canyon wall. Razor-edged shards flew.
“Careful of your eyes, woman!” Helplessly he watched, unable to stop her as she swung the axe again and again. “What do you think to do?”
“I will not be without you again.” She bent and carefully sifted through the broken shards before selecting one the size of her palm. She angled it toward Warrick. A relieved breath escaped her when his reflection appeared on its shining surface. “If the magic that allows me to see and hear you resides in the obsidian itself, then even outside of these mountains, I should still see and hear you…however small and faint you might be in a mirror of this size.” She scraped its broken edge against a rougher piece of stone, dulling its sharpness—making the shard safer to carry and hold. “When Soren is dead and my kingdom freed, I will return to these mountains. And if I must, I will remove each peak to Aleron, so never will you be away from me.”
His brilliant queen. “You would move mountains for me?”
“I would.” Glancing up from the shard, she arched a brow at his reflection. “Add that to the legend that you will tell Bannin. Along with…what was it? Breaking curses with your cock?”
Warrick had no response to that, except to flex his arms at her again.
Elina the Strong
The Valley of Stars
“Aleron is just beyond this long canyon,” Elina said and nudged her horse down a steep slope in the road which led to a narrow, stonebound passage that followed the winding of a river. “Though everyone in the surrounding kingdoms calls it a valley, because it widens farther north—the Valley of Stars. You will see why that name when night comes.”
“Or you might tell me now, wife.”
“It is more impressive to see.”
“I have better things to look upon at night than a valley. Unless it is the valley between your thighs.” When she laughed and shook her head, Warrick added, “And the sound of your voice always pleases, so I would hear you speak of things that bring you joy.”
Then she would be speaking mostly of Warrick. Elina glanced to the right, where she knew he rode, then down at the obsidian shard that she held against her leg with its glassy surface facing him. On a sunny day, his reflection could hardly be discerned and his voice sounded as if from a distance. Yet at night, lit by the soft glow of his archer, she could better see and hear him.
