Page 54 of Song of the Dawn
Sliding one finger under my chin, Ezra guided my face back toward his, eyes dark and earnest as he spoke. “Mila, I need you to see the truth in my eyes. No. You ruined nothing. I’ve never come so close to doing what the sorceress asked, because it’s impossible. By the time I summoned the…er…demon, I was too weak to open the portal. That’s the caveat to magic: its physically draining, and I was already near the end when you appeared.”
“Oh.” Potent relief slid out of me, and I blinked hard as the weight of guilt I’d carried on my shoulders shattered. Still, my heart fluttered in my chest, and my slew of thoughts returned, rearranging themselves into an opportunity. “What if you had help?”
Ezra narrowed his eyes at me, his lips curling into a scowl. “In theory, it would be better if I had help. One violinist to open the portal, the other to control the demon, but I don’t like what you’re implying.”
“I’m not implying anything,” I protested.
Ezra slid his hand down my belly and parted my legs, stroking the soft skin of my upper thigh. “Yes, you are. I’ve known you long enough to spy the glint in your eye. You have a plan. You’re thinking of something dangerous, and I won’t let you.”
His arm tightened around my waist. “It is true that we both play the violin, but it takes magic to open portals, and the cost of using that magic is wearisome. Besides, a violin must be made from a specific wood to invoke the magic, wood that is rare and old and difficult to find. I don’t have any of that wood here, which is why I sent Dusty and Giselle away to find some for me, and it served as an excuse to get them off the property for a while.”
“What about the violin you gave me?” I asked. My breath hitched as his fingers moved higher.
“I would be foolish indeed if I gave you a magical violin. No, it is made from nonmagical wood. Pure. Uncorrupted.”
I sighed as the idea of helping him drifted away. He would not wish it upon me, and yet a question still hung there. How close had I come to losing Ezra? If he’d attempted to open the portal and failed, would the demon have attacked him, overcome him in his weakened state?
“What happens now?”
“We wait until the wood is found, and then I will carve a violin and send that foul beast through the portal to her.”
It was now or never. Lifting myself on an elbow, I trapped his hand between my legs, halting his trajectory. Keeping my tone low and serious, I spoke quickly. “Ezra, you brought me here because you wanted me to play violin, and then, in your hour of utmost need, you deny me what I came here for. To play, to make a difference, to use my passion for good. You are a master of the craft, and yet you decline to teach me anything. So I’m not asking; I’m telling you, you need me. I don’t want to learn how to use magic to summon spirits, but surely the magic can be taught, shared. Teach me how to open the portal. At least teach me the notes. Give me something to do here, a way to help, because if you do it all alone, you will lose. And I don’t want to lose you, just when I’ve found you and know the darkness that haunts you and your path to redemption. I see it all so clearly. Why can’t you?”
Stunned, he opened his mouth and closed it. The tension in his body faded. Tilting his head, he lay flat on his back, eyes closed. I placed a hand on his chest, feeling his rapid heartbeat, the struggle within.
Emboldened by his silence, I went on. “You let others help you with this inn. This is vastly different. It’s a choice between life and death. I’ve seen the darkness. I know the sorceress is dangerous, but I’ve met no one like you, and I love you. Don’t force me to watch you ruin yourself. Let me help. That’s why our paths crossed, for this reason.”
Straddling him, I leaned over his chest, waiting. Watching.
When he opened his eyes, they were wet, and his smile was weak. His fingers threaded through my hair. “I don’t want you to help, because I was the one who got myself into this mess. It was my fault, my sins, my desire for power that belongs to the gods.”
“Yes, but we’ve been over this. You can’t go back. You can’t change the past, but you’ve done so much to gain your freedom. Doesn’t that count? Doesn’t what I want matter?”
He seized my hips. “You are the only thing that matters, and if you help me, if you assist, you will put yourself into the crosshairs of a very dangerous sorceress. Mila, you don’t understand. She holds a piece of my soul.”
“And so do I,” I breathed. “Because I love you. You said it yourself. This is your last task, all you have to do to be free of her, to seal the border between worlds once and for all. And if my reward is you, then I will put myself in danger. When we win at the end, it will be worth it.”
Yanking me to him, he kissed me hard, biting my lips, fingers lacing through my hair. I rolled with him, the push and pull of our conversation turning physical. Our hands were everywhere, our breathing changed to ragged pants, and when he entered me, I cried out not from pain but because the intensity of the moment was enough to bring me to the brink of climax. It was hard, hot, fast, and we both came quickly, gasping as we held on to each other. I straddled him, thighs locked around his hips. Resting my face in the crook of his neck, I closed my eyes and breathed in his scent, relishing that moment.
“I’m afraid,” Ezra admitted. “But I see the wisdom in your words. I will teach you the notes, but you must not play unless you’re in my presence.”
I pulled back to study him, although I did not break our skin-to-skin contact. “I promise.”
“And, Mila, you understand that these notes, these tunes, cannot be played anywhere else. They work because the island is a sacred place. There is magic there. But portals can open into worlds we don’t know or understand, and dangerous creatures could come through.”
“Like the creature in the cellar?”
“Yes, like that.”
“Ezra?” I studied his face, the lines of his jaw, his slight dimples, the fall of his hair, disheveled from our lovemaking. “Are you human?”
He smiled. “Why? Do you think I’m not human?”
I shrugged. “You’re from an unfamiliar land, you use magic, you sense others’ feelings—none of that is very humanlike.”
“Perhaps.” He kissed my shoulder. “Perhaps I’m something else, something other, and if so, I don’t know what that is. But you know what I think: once humans had more power, more authority in this world, they forgot the gods created them, and fell from grace. Those who remember who they are, what they are, can harness forgotten magic.”
Flipping me onto my back, he spread my legs. “Now, no more questions. I want to make love to you.”
