Page 134 of North Is the Night
“I feel...” The truth is I don’t know. I feel...everything. When he drops a hand between us, his fingers find a spot that makes me tremble. My hands move on their own, trying to pull him closer. How do lovers do this as two bodies? I want him inside me, wrapped in me. Down the bond and through my body, I open myself to this pleasure. “Don’t stop,” I plead. “Don’t—gods, don’t stop—”
He laughs, changing his angle as he wraps an iron hand around my thigh. “There are no more gods for you, wife. Only one. Only me. Say it.”
“Only one,” I pant.
“Say it.”
“Only you.”
“Who am I?”
I open my eyes, gazing up at the bold features of his face. I see the complexity in him—the curious raven, the heartsick man, the dangerous immortal. He is all three. Is it possible for me to be more than Aina? Do I dare embrace this power I feel waking inside me? Can I really become Ainatar?
Grabbing him by the shoulders, I roll us over. He barks out a laugh. Throwing his head back, he grabs my hips, letting me sink down on him once more. I cry out, trembling at the way he fills me. I drop my hands to his chest. I never want this feeling to end. I’m flying and falling. I’m lost to myself. I am whateverweare.
“Who am I, wife?” he says again.
“Mine,” I pant, dropping forward to claim his lips. “You’re Tuoni, and you’re mine.”
The need to shatter overwhelms me. Heat shivers down my legs, all the way to my toes. I feel it vibrating across my chest as I pull him to me, wanting all of him. With the god of death around me and inside me, we burn together as a joined fire, our flames scorching the other’s skin, before we both crumble to ash.
40
Siiri
“Easy, girl. That’s it.Get yourself up now.” Väin-ämöinen’s voice calls to me, luring me back to consciousness.
I gasp, jolting upright in panic, clutching at my chest.
“Whoa, whoa. First time is always hard. Worse than the luonto, eh?”
As if on cue, the nausea hits. I groan, body swaying. “I think I’m gonna—”
I shriek, my body going rigid as the chill of ice presses against the back of my neck. The infuriating curmudgeon dropped a piece of ice inside my tunic! It slides down my spine, making me wriggle and wince. I fight to undo my belt and let the ice fall to the floor.
“You—weasel,” I shout, unable to think of a better insult.
“But you’re not nauseated anymore, are you?” he says with a barking laugh.
I scowl at him.
His smile falls as he glares right back. “Now, what in the name of Ilmatar’s fuzzy woolen mittens did you do?”
“Nothing!”
“Oh, ‘Nothing,’ she says. I found them tying you to a stake, ready to burn you as a witch!”
“It wasn’t me. It was that rotten priest—”
“You looked like you were giving as good as you got,” he counters, leveling a finger in my face. “I told you to lay low.”
“I did,” I say, slapping his hand away.
“I said you could pop in on your mummi and tell her you’re alive. I didn’t tell you to start a godsdamn rebellion.”
“I didn’t—”
“You told a whole village full of people that Väinämöinen is returning, and then you threatened a priest of the new god. If you think he’ll turn tail and run south, you’re a fool, Siiri Jarintyttär. He will bring down the hammer and crush your little village into dust.”
