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I laughed and went to kiss her, but Saga shoved me flat on my back, her palms on my chest.
Whether this was real or not no longer mattered. When Saga hooked her fingers in the waist of my pants and pulled them down, blood rushed from my head, and the only thought I could form was our bodies entwined, nothing between us but skin and sweat.
Saga climbed over me again and gripped me in her palm as she slid over the tip of my length. A moan—from her or me, I didn’t know—vibrated through us until I gripped her hips and lifted her over my shaft.
Saga choked on a bit of surprise when I buried myself inside her with a rough thrust. One of my hands slid up her spine until I gripped the messy braid behind her neck.
“Hells.” I gritted out when she quickened her pace, almost like she was hells-bent on punishing me. “You are my bleeding addiction. This feels . . .”Real. It felt so real, but I pushed the word out of my head, desperate to forget this might’ve all been a cruel dream.
“Perfect,” she whispered.
I gripped her hips with both hands and pulled her closer, our bodies grinding together, needing more. Always more.
Release gathered deep in my gut; it built and built as heat and friction drew out a frenzy in us both. Saga scraped her fingernails down my chest, lips parted, eyes closed as she destroyed me.
With a breathy pant, she went still, a delirious shudder rolled through her body from the top of her head to the curl of her toes. I claimed her in an unforgiving rhythm, once, twice, until I lifted my shoulders off the ground, and held her against me through my own climax.
My skin tingled in heat and exertion, as though I’d been running all morning. Saga hugged me close and stroked my hair incessantly. Adrenaline and sweat and breath pasted us together, our hands roving over each other as if we’d be wrenched away any moment.
When she stayed soft and warm in my hands, I gave into the lethargy of my muscles, and fell back to the cold ground. Saga rolled off and tucked her body against my side. We stayed motionless for a long pause; her fingers traced the scar down my chest, mine threaded through the wild tangles of her hair.
“You are worth every risk, Ari Sekundär.” Saga’s voice was distant. “Believe that and return to me.”
“Saga.” I turned my head in time to see the shape of her fading. I jolted to sitting, reaching for her. “No, no, no, stay here. Gods! Just a little longer.”
By the time my palms made it to where she’d been, nothing but frosted soil remained. I clawed at the dirt and cried out my anger. The pain of still having her taste on my tongue, but the rest of her lost to me tore through my blood in an unfamiliar rage.
“Dammit!” I curled over, my forehead pressed to the chilled earth.
My chest tightened until I couldn’t breathe, and for a moment, I was certain I felt a bit more of my heart crack into nothing but worthless shards.
Chapter12
The Raven Queen
Sun filtered through the smudged,waxy parchment covering the window. Every time I woke, it was as though Ari had only left my bed. He was so tangible, soreal. The press of his skin against mine still lingered, a whisper in the dark. Everything burned in need for him. A throbbing between my legs remained a hint he’d filled me in my dream without mercy. The way he’d taken me was raw and feral, it was riddled in pain and love.
The whirlwind of escaping a fate tale was disorienting. What was real and what wasn’t? I lifted the hem of the oversized tunic used for sleeping and checked my skin for marks. Memories of the way Ari’s teeth scraped over my stomach and breasts, there would be signs.
A thick bulge of agony clogged the back of my throat.
Only the scars of past pain were visible.
The burn of ever-flowing tears scorched behind my eyes. I blinked it away. There was too much to do, too much to prepare for, to spend the dawn sobbing and pitying myself. I kicked away the scratchy quilt, dressed, and set to packing.
Four days had passed since meeting with the old sisters. While we gathered supplies and prepared for the return journey to the isles, I’d held tightly to the second dream tale, afraid to use them up too quickly. Soon enough, I grew desperate for my husband’s skin.
One left, and I would cling to it. Truth be told, I prayed to the horrid Norns I’d never have need to use it. My hope was Ari would wake before the ache drove me to escape into dreams again.
In the days since the hags gave their rune prophecy, we’d bartered for strange blades made of bone from goats and cattle. Horns were filled to the brim with oat cakes chopped into small squares, wild honey I found in a small wood near the gates of Raven Row, and dried meat that had an odd flavor of both herring and oily venison.
Today we’d leave the rickety tenements and muddy, cobbled roads of Raven Row. We’d escape to the tides of the Fate’s Ocean until the lush Mossgrove of the isles came into sight.
I tied the leather bindings of a fur lined pouch before the sun rose, too anxious to sleep another moment. With careful steps I slipped into the main room of the tenement to clean my mouth and scrub the fine layer of dust packed on my cheeks.
Calista slept on a mat against the wall, a sheathed dagger hugged against her chest. While I swished powders and water in my mouth, I studied her profile cast in the dim flicker of a lone candle.
Such a strange girl. Bold and brave, yet terrified in one breath. A girl who feared her own fate, and I didn’t know why. I didn’t know why I was drawn to her. Not because she was here to help Ari, it was different. Instinct brought me to her. The moment Ari was set to fall asleep, the storyteller I didn’t know came to my mind.
