Page 44 of Black Wing and Shadows
I lifted my gaze, and his locked with mine. The charge hit hard—electricity pouring through my mouth, down my chest, sinking low until I burned for him. It wasn’t the same raw blast as before, but it was enough to set my body on fire, every inch alive with wanting.
I stood up, and he quickly grabbed me and pulled me into a kiss. He pulled back, pressed his forehead to mine, both of us barely breathing, taking it in. He pushed my shoulder to spin me around, grabbed up the soap, put it on a washcloth, and lathered me. He did it so tenderly, taking his time. He moved to my front and did the same, moving from my shoulders down. He knelt, moving the washcloth down my leg, before using his free hand to place his thumb on my clit, softly moving in circles.
He rose in a sudden motion, a teasing glint sparking in his eyes. Warm, soapy water slid off my skin as I snatched the washcloth from his hand and worked up more suds. I pressed the cloth to his chest, scrubbing across smooth skin, tracing every line and curve.
I shifted behind him and brushed the cloth over his wings, careful with each stroke, studying them. I had seen them fully spread only once before. Earlier, they hadn’t stretched as wide, not like on the tower when he had flown—then they had unfurled in a breathtaking sweep of black, vast and unyielding.
He turned his head to peer over his shoulder at me, and I smiled at him. I moved the cloth to my left hand and took my finger and ran it over the webs in his wing. His wings started on each side of his spine, right under his shoulder blades. I rubbed my finger down the webbing that was near his spine, and his entire body shook. I pulled my finger back, not wanting to push his boundaries.
“It’s okay, I’ve never had anyone touch them before. You hit a damned sensitive spot, in all the good ways.”
I continued rubbing my fingers all over his wings, taking mental note of all the spots that made him shiver. I finished washing him down, then came around to the front of him. He grabbed me up and started kissing me feverishly, like he hadn’t just cum.
He turned the water off, then pulled me into his arms, carrying me back to the bed. As soon as he started kissing me, my arousal immediately peaked. Gods, his lips felt so amazing across my skin. He moved down between my legs, still gently kissing me. He stopped on my inner thigh, close to my clit, and sucked there for a few seconds, and repeated on the opposite side. He took his tongue and slowly moved it from my perineum to my clit, in one gliding motion.
I felt myself getting wetter and my body flushing warmer. He took his tongue and flicked my clit with it at a fast-teasing pace. It felt so glorious, I swallowed hard, biting back my moan. He inserted two fingers into my wetness, and I let out a loud moan, and my breathing became more uneven.
He sent me into another earth-shattering orgasm, my vision fading to black as twinkling stars danced before my eyes. I had many other partners, but none matched the intensity of ours. I believed the emotional bond we forged, or perhaps our destined connection, fueled it. Whatever the reason, I was not complaining.
We cuddled on his bed, my head on his arm, both of us out of breath. Everything about lying in his arms screamed home to me, and at the same time, something felt off overall. Not with Zane, but something wasn’t settling right. My mom’s letters had me overall concerned. She revealed things but didn’t tell me anything at all. I was happy that she wrote about the bond, but most of it I had already figured out—I was living it.
Someone hammered on the door twice, as if there was a fire outside. Zane and I both jumped. Like what the fuck? We both were dazed, hugging each other as if time had paused for a moment.
“Zane. You're late!” the voice screamed.
“Oh shit!” Zane shot to his feet. “I need to go. They’re running an exercise on the first-years—forcing them into it. I was supposed to be knocking on doors and wrecking what they thought would be a free Saturday.”
He yanked on his clothes in a rush. Whoever waited outside pounded again, sharp and impatient. Zane cracked the door, lifted two fingers in a signal, then shut it tight.
He crossed back to me where I lay tangled in his sheets. He bent low, pressed a quick kiss to my lips, and the taste of him lingered as he pulled away.
“Leave whenever you want. The first week will probably be hectic for us both, but I am always here if you need me.” He tapped the side of his head. “Love, I know you can take care of yourself but be careful out there. I’d hate to have to kill someone in the first week.”
CHAPTER 17
ZANE
Gods, my head spun fiercely. Last night didn’t go as I expected. I genuinely wanted to talk with her before we had sex. I didn’t regret it, but I had wished to lay everything out before taking the next step. I experienced joy. I felt anger. I was confused. I was worried. Any emotion I could feel coursed through me. Joy in Auriella—that was everything I’d ever hoped for, everything I’d ever dreamed of. Thinking about her and the passionate love we shared ignited earth-shattering feelings. Anger and confusion mixed within me. Why the fuck did my uncle do that? Did my father protect him? Gods, Auriella didn’t deserve this. I saw it in her eyes—the spark stolen from her—something she would never regain.
My relationship with Alex might change forever. He had been my closest friend. For two years, we spent weekends together, often finding each other in the quiet evenings to unwind. I loved the girl he loved—more than merely love. She was my Anam Cara, the vital core around which my being revolved. She was unaware, but she held my soul in her palms. The fact that he had a nickname only he used for her ignited a surge of anger within me. Knowing he had seen and touched her fueled my jealousy. I had never experienced jealousy before, yet here I was. I felt furious that my best friend had been with my mate. Logically, I understood it made no sense, but my emotions overwhelmed me.
Cuddling with her felt entirely right and perfect. I loved her deeply, but I couldn’t tell her because I feared it would scare her. I had loved her since the moment I first saw her. I also hadn’t mentioned that having our mating bond blessed by the priestess would grant us matching tattoos. Iwondered how she would feel about it, especially since she bore no tattoos. In our village, it was essential for all Drusearons to get tattoos upon turning sixteen, marking their transition into adulthood and accepting their fate.
The Temple of Freya—the goddess of love—was where most people went to confirm their mating bonds, believing it honored the deep love between partners. Priestesses in every temple could bless these bonds. I guessed it depended more on which deity people worshipped than anything else. Growing up as a royal child, we had statues of each god in our palace, and we were expected to worship all of them, each with its own special day. As a curious little boy, I often asked my parents why we had to worship Marzana. One day, my mother knelt down and explained that although Marzana might seem like an evil god, he was the one we should ask for forgiveness from and pray that he would not curse us.
I was cursing all of the gods when Remus knocked on the door, reminding me we had a wing to lead. The Black Wing had always been known as a tough unit among the Drusearons. Remus and I promised that we would lead it that way again this year. Of course, our Platoon Leaders and Squad Leaders knew about this, as we had discussed it in our leadership meeting—almost all the first-year students were not prepared. I suspected the few who seemed to know we would be coming probably had older siblings and received a fair heads-up that Black Wing started on Saturday, if we ended up starting the year on the weekend.
Most of them hadn’t been able to fly since the beginning of basic training because of the strict rules and peculiar tinctures prescribed at the start. The tincture Drusearons were required to swallow, which blocked our ability to fly, was the most shocking and absurd experience I had ever encountered. Some cadets deliberately swallowed only part of it or attempted to vomit afterward to reduce the effects. It also prevented us from roving, if anyone had that ability. The tincture was intended to last only two months, coinciding with the duration of basic training.
By week seven, I could fly very short distances and rove at length. My father told me before I went that the tinctures they would give me probably wouldn’t last the entire time because of our bloodline. Of course, I didn’ttest it early or go anywhere in fear of getting caught. I had never been to the brig, and I didn’t want to learn about it firsthand either.
We took the cadets out for flying practice and flight maneuvers. Some had only learned the basics, which was obvious. A few of them excelled and were clearly well-taught. My siblings and I were homeschooled, and our father hired top teachers for our education. Growing up, I hated the isolation. Now, I miss the one-on-one lessons and quiet time. While my siblings could be wild, some cadets were more unhinged than I ever expected.
After training I knew it was time for a very awkward conversation.
I knocked on his door twice. Alex opened the door and signaled me to come inside. He looked upset, and I was sure Auri was the reason. I was about to make things utterly worse. No point in dragging out the inevitable, though.
“Hey,” I said.
