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He panted softly, sweat beading along his brow. “You’re a fast learner.” Morozko smiled. “Both in magic and in pleasure.”
19
MOROZKO
Morozko tucked a few strands of Eirah’s hair behind her ear and leaned in, pressing a lingering kiss to her jaw. His body still hummed from completion, and despite being content, a part of him wanted very much to claim Eirah in a way no one ever had.
He’d been surprised when she allowed the foreplay to continue. He had every intention of stopping and had even given her a way out. Morozko only wanted to show her the pleasures of his tongue, his touch, but when she regardedhimand wanted to fulfill his needs, it took everything within him toonlypull her onto his lap.
Eirah deserved more than a quick tupping. He wouldn’t have lasted long inside of her, not with how pent up he was, and certainly not with her tightness wrapped around him.
Her taste still lingered on his tongue, and had they more time, he may have even drawn the moment out. But Andras’s reports of no children shying away from the flames still troubled him. It meant this wouldn’t be as easy as he’d thought.
What they needed—heneeded—was another vision. A clearer picture of the horizon and what awaited them in the not-too-distant future.
Morozko’s eyes lingered on Eirah’s flushed face. He motioned toward his cape. “You can use that.” It wasn’t his imagination. Her eyes seemed brighter—like she was more aware of him than before. She ducked her head and used the discarded fabric to clean herself up.
When Eirah finished, her gaze caught his, and the elation that was there moments ago faded into something akin to doubt. “What now?” she whispered.
His brow furrowed, genuinely confused as to what she spoke of, but then it dawned on him. “What?” He schooled his features and took his cape from her, using it to wipe away the arousal from his thighs and abdomen, but kept his eyes trained on her.
“You know what I mean.” She motioned between them, then pulled her layers of clothing back on.
Morozko remained silent, only watching as she covered her skin again. She may not have been conventionally beautiful like Saren, but shestillpossessed beauty. She wasmorebeautiful to him now that he’d come to know her better. Eirah with her sharp angles to match her sharp tongue. Eirah with a tongue he wanted to feel more of. But what they’d become to one another now, even he was uncertain. He believed they were no longer enemies, and now he faced an even larger dilemma. If he did have a vision again, one that showed him sacrificing Eirah, would he go through with it?
No.No, he would not. And that answer alone presented another problem. What would he do to put right to wrongs? How would he drive the changelings back and undo what his mother had done?
He thought for a moment, carefully constructing his words so they didn’t sound harsh. Something that could be difficult for him to do. “What do you want out of this?” Morozko couldn’t say what he wanted because he didn’t know, and voicing that there was one more thing he couldn’t answer grated on him. He couldn’t bear another uncertainty in his life. Between not knowing how to seal the changelings off, what orifsacrificing Eirah would do a damn thing, and not entirely understanding what she was, there were far too many unanswered questions for his liking.
Eirah spoke, her pinkened lips moving, but he couldn’t hear her. His ears buzzed, sounding like a thousand flies swarming above his head. A moment later, his vision dimmed, and he tried blinking it away. He staggered forward, his knees buckling as he collapsed to the floor of the ice house, losing himself to a vision. In the distance, Eirah screamed for him, but he couldn’t answer.
Morozko dragged his dagger along his fingertip and let the droplets fall onto Eirah’s tongue. In turn, she did the same for him, and together they chanted. Snow kicked up around them, spiraling into a cyclone of green, purple, and blue. Morozko dragged his blade across his palm, spilling crimson onto the ivory snow, then watched it spread into a broad circle. The full moon’s golden light reflected off the ground, but as a harsh wind blew, the light dimmed—or rather changed. Gone was the bright hue of the moon, and in its place was a dark cobalt orb.
Morozko swayed, clutching his side. “They’ll be known as the krampi and will be our claws when we cannot reach the changelings.”
The vision jumped forward in time to a grand battle, where Morozko and Eirah sat atop Nuka.
A battle raged before them, the krampi slaughtering the changelings, hauling them to a grand, blazing fire, where they threw them in. Hungry flames lapped at their waxen flesh, and their wails rang out, piercing his ears. This time their bodies dissipated, but the gnawing feeling of them returning through the seal churned within his mind.
The vision leaped again.
Morozko’s side no longer hurt, but his heart thundered away. Adrenaline coursed through him, urging him to rush into battle while his warriors raged, cutting down and chaining up the changelings as they scattered like mice.
Yet, here he and Eirah were, in the palace. It was the only way to ensure he wouldn’t fall during the battle—that Frosteria remained safe.
Eirah opened her hand, and in it sat a brilliant blue stone. It pulsed like a heart. “This will aid the krampi in eradicating the changelings. After infusing the stones with their blood and your spell, the power within will help locate them.”
Morozko sighed. “And this way, we can decipher who is possessed without needlessly whipping them.”
Eirah shook her head. “I wish there was a better way to set the humans free.”
Morozko drummed his fingers against his desk. “It seems so far away. A day without changelings…” He sighed, leaning forward to bury his face against Eirah’s stomach, then wrapped his arms around her waist.
The vision dissipated, and when Morozko came to, Eirah was shaking him by the shoulders. She hovered above him, worry in her eyes.
“Morozko!” she shrieked.
“I saw,” he stammered, struggling to steady himself to sit. “I saw what we must do. It’s too late.” His words jumbled together as he processed what he’d seen, savoring each detail. “Fuck.” Morozko clumsily rolled onto his side and pushed himself onto his knees. He jammed his fingers through his damp hair and sucked in a breath. “It’s too late to make a sacrifice. If I killed you now, it would be for nothing. The vision of you wasn’t leading to your sacrifice at all, but something else…” Sweat trickled down his face and dripped onto the ground. He trembled not from exertion but from settling into the present.
