Page 125 of Brimstone
I tried even harder not to smile. Compliments from this male were still new. My insides behaved ridiculously whenever he evenlookedat me. “You like the swords?” I asked, my gaze going to where they sat on top of the dresser to his right. Fisher arched an eyebrow, slowly heading over to take a look at the naked Fae steel.
“They’re beautiful,” he said softly. “Incredible. They were made for you, Osha.”
“I still don’t know what the writing means. The engraving is in Old Fae. The one on the right with the abalone inlay in the hilt says Erromar. The one on the left with the ivory inlay says Selanir.”
Fisher angled his head, frowning as he read the inscriptions on both swords. He nodded, smiling softly. “Erromar meansmercy,” he said, in a reverent voice. “Selanir meanshonor.”
“Huh. Mercy and Honor. The gods named my swordsforme, then.”
“Maybe,” Fisher agreed. He stepped away from the dresser, facing me again. “Or maybe those are traits they decided to blessyouwith. Either way, they’re appropriate names for your new weapons. Now enough about swords. Come here. If you can bear the fact that our bodies aren’t touching for one more second, then you’re a better person than me, Saeris Fane,” he whispered.
Those words lit a fire in me. I ran, crossing the room and launching myself at him. He caught me, his arms like steel bands around me as he held me tight.
Life was so unsafe right now. A million hurdles lay between us and peace. I couldn’t remotely begin to comprehend how we were going to overcome it all, and yet the world fell away. Nothing could touch me here, in his arms like this. I pressed my face into the crook of his neck so hard that his leathers muffled my words when I spoke. “What took you so long?”
He stroked my wet hair, laughing quietly.
“I went to get Lorreth,” he said. We hadn’t been able to find our friend before we’d left Ammontraíeth. Fisher had left a note for him in my rooms, telling him to head back across the dead fields as soon as he discovered we were gone. “I asked him to bring Bill and Aida back across the river for me. They were miserable in that dank barn. He had to find a safe place to cross, though. The narrowest part of the river, where the camp was . . .” He shook his head. “The rot has destroyed everything there now. The snow is black. I . . . I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“But he’s back here now? Safe?”
Fisher nodded.
Now that I knew that, I had to ask the question burning a hole in the back of my throat. “How does an oath-sworn Fae break their oath, Fisher?”
He drew back immediately, searching my eyes. “They don’t,” he said. “Why?”
There were freckles on the bridge of his nose. Just a few small dots of brown against the paleness of his skin. I focused on them, too afraid to repeat what Orious had said back in the tomb. “You’re sworn to Belikon. So are Lorreth, Ren, Danya, and everyone else who fought at Irrín. Orious said that he can command you—”
“Orious was trying to scare you. Belikon can command us until he’s blue in the face, but he can’t touch us here. The wards that prevent him from coming here also prevent his compulsion from reaching us. As long as we stay here in Cahlish or inAmmontraíeth, we’re all fine. And even if we do leave these lands, we would have to be in his physical presence for him to command us. There is no way he’s leaving the Winter Palace—”
I kissed him, my heart rising in my chest. I couldn’t bear to hear any more. I neededhimmore than I needed words of reasoning right now. His surprise was fleeting. His mouth answered mine, his tongue sweeping into my mouth, and the room faded to black. The heavy curtains were drawn, shutting out the cold morning light. His shadows were nowhere to be seen, though. He didn’t even call upon them when his hands roved south, tugging at the bottom of my shirt.
Don’t tell me you’re going to undress me the normal way this time, I said teasingly into his head.
He flicked his tongue over my lips, a low rumble sounding at the back of his throat.Does this feel normal to you?He took my left hand and placed it in the center of his chest, mirroring what he’d done the very first time he’d shown me how fast I had made his heart race back in his tent.
I could hardly feel his pulse hammering beneath his thick leathers . . . but Icouldhear it now. “No,” I whispered.
And this?He took hold of my other hand, guiding it low until it rested on top of his hard cock. He wasn’t just hard. He was rock solid, his erection straining at the front of his pants like it needed to be free.
No. That doesn’t feel normal at all, I said.That feels . . .extraordinary.
When Fisher lifted my hand again, he paused, turning it over so that my palm faced up. The quicksilver in his eye flared a little as he gently ran his fingers over the inside of my wrist. I’d noticed it, of course: the veins that had once been green-blue there now shone metallic silver through my skin.
Does it hurt?he asked.
I shook my head.No.
Do you feel . . .He narrowed his eyes a fraction.Unwell?
Unwellwas a tactful way of asking if I was being plagued by a million voices that were gradually driving me insane. Again, I shook my head.No. It isn’t like that. It feels . . . like magic. Like power, right there under my skin.
Lightly, he kissed the inside of my wrist.All right, then. We’ll unpack that later. Because right now . . .He spoke the question out loud. “Do you have any idea how good you look in that shirt, Osha? Two days was too long.”
“Technically, wedidhave sex in the cottage.”
He walked me backward, cradling my cheeks in his hands, raining kisses down onto my face. “It doesn’t matter. My soul is on fire. Tell me yours isn’t.”
