Page 34 of Lera of Lunos
Tye’s hand on my wrists tightens. Holding me in place with his weight, his legs, his gaze, the male grants me no freedom, no quarter, no choice but to feelhimto the exclusion of the world. His chiseled chest and shoulders rise over me, damp with sweat, filling my view. The rhythmic, relentless pounding through my wetness grows to consume my universe. When I open my mouth, Tye’s lips descend punishingly over mine. Taking away even my speech.
Surrender washes over me with his next stroke, my mind quieting to let zings of pleasure shoot through my sex, down the backs of my legs. My toes curl, my fingers tightening against air as my channel clenches around the male’s hardness. When the tsunami of release comes, tears finally flow with it.
Tye cradles me against him when we finish, letting go only long enough to dip a washcloth into water. Wiping the moist towel over my face, he gently traces the slopes of my cheekbones, my bruises that are a pale yellow now, thanks to time and healing magic. The water’s coolness is welcome against my steaming skin, as is the slow, rhythmic brush of Tye’s breath against my hair.
“Tell me we’ll get them back,” I say into his chest.
“We’ll get them back,” answers a voice too high to be Tye’s.
Shifting, I turn my face toward the door and find Autumn, fully dressed in determination.
25
Lera
“Icombed the throne room this morning,” Autumn says, pacing back and forth along the oak table in one of the palace library’s alcoves. Around us, shelves of books reach up to a vaulted ceiling, hanging candelabras bathing the space in warm light. Seated at the book-laden table, Kora, Tye, and I inhale the scent of aged paper and bindings as we follow Autumn’s progress with our eyes. Without River’s firm opinions, Coal’s guarding presence around the edges, and Shade’s comforting warmth, our group feels thin, wobbly. We all try to ignore it.
Autumn quickens her steps. Turns. Walks back, fingers fiddling with the tips of her silver braids. I don’t know what fills me with more dread—her ragged, unpolished nails or her simple, mindless outfit. Black tights and a man’s sweater that looks like it may be on backwards. When I realize by its scent that it must be River’s, my heart lodges in my throat. Missing a brother can hardly be easier than missing a quint mate. “I found several folds in the Gloom, but only one that’s new. Followingthatdirection, and knowing Griorgi’s prior choices, and his intended goal of—”
“Just say it, Autumn.” I rest my elbows on the table, my heart pounding. “Do you know where they are?”
She swallows, her gaze skimming over Tye’s. “I know where they are going to be in ten days’ time.”
“The Blaze capital.” Tye’s jaw tightens with understanding. “In a week and a half, Blaze will be celebrating Samhain—as if spirits and darkness warrant a bloody festival. Bonfires, masquerades, trials of fear and courage—the lore is that by showing the darkness how close you can get to it and not be afraid, you’ll intimidate it into staying put for another year.” He rubs his face. “Point is, everyone will be out in hordes, celebrating and drinking. A perfect target.”
“Won’t it be the same in all the courts though?” I ask.
Autumn shakes her head. “Blaze is the only court to celebrate Samhain. Many in Blaze have a fire-magic affinity, like Tye, so I think they are partial to the tradition.”
“Stars,” Tye says. “Around that time, no one might even notice a bloody portal from Mors opening until Griorgi has slaughtered half the capital.”
Autumn nods, her face grim as she turns an open book toward us. “It isn’t just that Blaze will be distracted. Samhain actually is the time when the wards between Lunos and Mors are weakest, especially where Blaze is. Between the celebration, the weakened wards, and River’s blood, Griorgi has everything he needs for a major offensive.”
“If the bastard catches Blaze unawares, they will not stand a chance.” I slide my hand into Tye’s, squeezing his callused fingers. “So we go warn Blaze. With only the two of us, we should be able to beat Griorgi there.”
Autumn stops pacing, her gray eyes flashing in our direction. “Three of us.”
“Eight of us,” Kora drawls, lifting her chin as if daring anyone to contradict her.
Tye shakes his head. “You can’t go, Sparkle.”
“Tye is right.” I wince. “You are the only Slait royal left, and someone has to keep the court thriving no matter what happens. Plus, you’ll need to coordinate with the Citadel, see if they can help somehow.”
Autumn opens her mouth to protest, only to shut it when Tye sends tiny sparks of fire dancing like shackles around her wrists.
“There is also the bit about you sharing Griorgi’s blood,” he says softly, his green eyes apologetic. “You said ancient magics are fueled by blood and that there isn’t a bloodline in Slait stronger than Griorgi’s. If things go poorly, we can’t let him use you too.”
* * *
Tye and Ileave as soon as we can manage, which is before dawn the following morning—Autumn having stayed up all night to work out a carefully sketched map of exactly which Gloom passages to use and when. Apparently, between the Gloom’s shifting nature and its life-energy-sapping existence, planning a balanced and expedient route takes a good deal of calculation. All the formulas make one thing clear: Tye and I will need nearly every one of those ten days to get to Blaze on time.
“How is it even possible to draw a map for something that keeps shifting?” I ask, yawning over my coffee as Autumn drums her fingers on the parchment she is sending us off with.
Kora gives me a dark look.
Autumn blinks, rubbing her eyes. “The same way seafarers use charts. Last I checked, the ocean’s currents and winds seldom stay still either.”
“Thank you, Sparkle,” Tye says with a seriousness that twists my stomach into a knot. A knot that only gets heavier when the pair of us move out, racing against time.
