Page 76 of Wind and Water
The Dagda, king of the old gods, stands before me. His face is cast in a series of connected wrinkles, and his hair and beard are long and gray. On his head, an antlered crown has grown green with leaves. His eyes stoic and filled with compassion, he levels them on me. Sitting on a throne grown from a living tree, at his feet is his cauldron, and in his right hand a tall staff. Cradled in the crook of his right arm is the harp of legend, Uaitne. He does not play nor speak, yet in his eyes the warning that I must go forward is clear.
With no memory of falling asleep, I’m startled awake when Wren stretches catlike beside me. Gloriously naked, she’s perfectly lovely, and the bruises have faded from most of her skin, though the ugly one at her ribs is myriad blues, greens, and yellows.
The sun warms the glen, and I spread my fingers, testing my magic. It tingles along my nerves as if it’s been waiting for this moment. Pressing my palm along her ribs, I let my fingers drape across each ripple.
She sighs and wiggles closer, pressing her ass to my thick shaft. “What are you doing?”
“Healing your ribs. I think they may be broken again.” It takes a great deal of willpower to concentrate on her injury and not the wicked way she’s trying to entice me into sex.
“I feel a lot better. This glen is wonderful. Can we stay here and not worry about what’s happening outside?”
Wishing what she asks for were possible won’t make it so. Here with Wren in my arms, I could live and die happy.
While the heat of healing rolls across her skin, the bruise lightens, and the sharp pain of her bone snapping back into place stings us both.
She gasps then relaxes. “Oh, that was almost as bad as when it happened, but the pain is easing. Thank you.”
I cringe at her comparison of my healing to torture. “I’m sorry. Healing is often painful. If it makes you feel any better, I felt the pain as well.”
“Of course that doesn’t make me feel better.” She rolls to face me. Her curls fall over her eyes.
Brushing her hair away from her face, I wish I could tell her there will be no more pain. I want to keep her safe from danger. I let the walls down so she can feel my desire.
She smiles. “I know, Liam. But there will be more trouble before this is over.”
Her curls are like silk under my fingertips. “May I brush your hair?”
“You have a brush? Have you been holding out on me?”
Sitting up, I go to the edge of the spring and pull a round stone from the water’s edge. Rinsing off the palm-size brown rock, I know it will serve the purpose. I carry it back to Wren. Letting the rising sun fill me with renewed magic, I focus on the stone and reform every molecule into a brush similar to the one I’ve watched her use on our journey.
Grinning, she takes it from me. “Amazing. I need to wet this mess.”
Unashamed of her nudity, she jumps up and rushes into the water.
My cock jerks painfully, as watching her naked and healthy is always going to affect me. She’s thinner than when we met. These last months have been hard on her. I love every inch of her, but I look forward to sitting at my parents’ table and seeing her well-fed and happy.
Returning to me with her curls dripping, she sits and hands me the brush. “It won’t be easy. We may have to cut it off. I’ve never gone a day without combing it, and you said it’s been months. I may have to get used to a pixie cut.”
Taking one knotted wad of her hair, I let my magic flow over the damp strands, separating them. “I don’t know what a pixie cut is, love, but you’ll not have to cut your hair unless you wish to.”
Silently, she sits with her bare back to me while I work through each knot and nest of her hair. Soon, the brush combs through easily, and her curls bounce around her shoulders.
When she turns, her smile lights my heart. “Thank you.”
I had no idea I was unhappy with my life until this woman filled me with more joy than I have ever known. “I’m never leaving you, Wren.”
Playfully, she pushes me to my back and straddles my hips. “You’ve told me.”
Thick and ready, my cock presses along her slit and it’s hard to form words. I run my hands along her waist to her hips and settle at the crease of her thighs. “If you cannot stay here in Domhan after this war is over, I will return to your world. If you go to the top of the highest mountain, I will climb behind you. If you reject me, I will respect your decision and watch over you from afar. You will be safe and happy, as seeing you so will be my purpose in life.”
Her smile fades, but emotion swims in her clear eyes. “I have not seen much in this world to recommend it, but I’m not ruling out staying here.”
“Why?”
She’s been attacked and tortured, demeaned and abused, not to mention being forced to kill.
She leans down and rests her forearms on my chest. Her hair creates shadows around her face as she meets my gaze. “Since coming here, Venora has influenced most of what I’ve seen. Her evil has clouded what must have once been an amazing world. Yet, there were still the centaurs and Adhar. I have a feeling, one day, the miracle of this place will match the magic rushing through my body. If I’m wrong, I’ll return to my world, but if I’m right, what a life I might have.” She blushes and rocks her hips. “And then there’s you.”
