Page 73 of A Conduit of Light
Shesaw her opportunity and took it, pushing him into the corner and pressing his shoulders down.
Shewas over him in an instant, adjusting her skirts expertly.Sheslid onto him in one deft motion, the embrace of her body catching him off-guard each time, reminding him of just how powerless he’d become, reminding him he would do anything—anything—to keep her.
Shesat still on top of him in some kind of new torture, kissing his forehead, his eyes, the tip of his nose, moving softly to his lips as she began their rhythm like a conductor of music, the rise and fall of their song one she alone would pace.
“Youdidn’t lose me,” she whispered, her lips close to his ear as he tried and failed to stop his eyes from burning.
Shekissed away the tears that fell all the while picking up the tempo of their bodies, their song on the verge of climax. “You’llnever lose me,Rev.”Shekissed his mouth, her body in fluid motion—a symphony of passion on top of his and all sense of purpose was lost to him.
Itwas only her.
Itwas only him.
Heheld her face in front of his as they joined in their ecstasy.
Hereyes ever so green.
Herbreath ever so sweet.
Herheart ever so his.
Chapter35
Sylva
“You’remuch toohard on him,Heimlen.”
Hegrunted, not in agreement, but in acknowledgement of her opinion.Hedipped his toasted bread into the runny yolk on his plate, the brilliant yellow center spilling outward across the whole of it in a flood of gold.
“Hestill doesn’t understand what it takes,Sylva.Hehasn’t accepted the truth of his situation, and he needs to.”
Shelaughed, her smile genuine and youthful. “Andwould you have at only twenty-three, dear?Don’tyou remember what it was like in those days?Youwere young and free.Yourburdens seemed too far away to pay attention to and your…vigor was almost unhinged.”Shedrank coyly from her cup of tea, raising her eyebrows across the small table, daring him to deny her words.
Theyshared breakfast together each morning.Theyhad done this for years in their own simple solitude.Thiswas their one small commitment to each other, both knowing they could have little more than that.
Sylvawould tellHeimlenof the ins and outs of theFortress, who was doing what, and how things were fairing along.
AfterhisOverseerhad died, he had told her he didn’t need a new one because he had her.
Shewas precious to him.Sheunderstood that.
Shewas necessary to him as well.Allher sacrifices were given to the greatest cause she could think of—the continuation ofFelgren, the training of channelers, the role ofBarons, and the overall health of the forest and the people who lived there.
Hesmirked, shaking his head.
“Whatif you are approaching the subject in the wrong way?Youare tellingRevichthat he is this and he is that and that everything lies on his shoulders.”
“Becauseit does.”
“Iknow,Iknow, but what if you spoke to him in a different manner?NotaBaronto his successor, but a father to his son?Youmight start by praising him first and go from there.You’llcatch more flies with honey, darling.”
“Idon’t need to catch him.Ineed him to focus.Ineed him to stop acting like a lesser man than he is.”
“Heis inlove,Heimlen.Probablyfor the first time in his life—don’t you remember what that is like?Thinkof the first woman you fell for within these walls.Surelyyou can remember that far back?”Shegrinned slyly, placing her cup onto its matching saucer.
Sheloved this set.Purpleand blue violets adorned the handle, the artist capturing the detail of the colors so well.Shekept them here, in theBaron’srooms, so that they could not be used elsewhere in theFortress.
Itwas just for the two of them.
