Page 62 of Daughter of the Drowned Empire
I sighed. “You don’t have to. I don’t exactly like the novice mage you’re assigned to train either, nor do I like the fact that I’m a soturion, but I’m dealing with it. Tristan, please. I don’t have the energy to convince myself it’ll be all right and convince you, too. Can you just drop it?”
His nostrils flared. “I’m never going to like this. Or him.”
“Fine, but for tonight…let’s just go to the after party. I need some fun after the week I’ve had.” I took his hands, pulling them onto my waist, and kissed him. “Come on.”
He remained motionless, fire dancing in his dark eyes.
“Please?”
Tristan exhaled sharply. “You’re right. Let’s go.”
We walked to the fields where everyone had gathered for the Oath Ceremony’s after party. It was a celebration of the newly formed lineages and the last night of freedom for novices before classes and training began in the morning. A soft breeze tickled the night, whispering the echo of drums beating in time to the notes of lyres and flutes. Fires sprang to light, and novice mages, drunk on their new powers, sparked dazzling fireworks in the starlit sky.
Someone conjured a dance floor in the clearing’s center. Wanting to vanish into a crowd, I dragged Tristan in. His hands snaked down my ribs and waist still covered in golden armor until he dug into my hips and pulled me close, our bodies in rhythm as we danced. Fireworks exploded above, and water dancers performed beside the drummers, their blue ribbons shimmying across the ground. There was still an edge of fury in his aura. I danced closer to him, even more seductively, grinding my ass against him, snaking my hips up and down in the way I knew drove him mad. But he wasn’t going to forget I was now linked to Rhyan so easily. Not with the armor between us.
I certainly couldn’t forget.
Even as we moved, I couldn’t stop seeing Rhyan’s face in the temple. I couldn’t stop seeing the intensity of his eyes as he’d undressed me. I couldn’t forget the way his hands had felt against my skin.
But the hands now playfully pulling me back were smooth, not calloused. Tristan spun me to face him, pulling my body against his. I buried my face in his neck, worried he’d read my mind and know it was on Rhyan.
We continued dancing as more shows of magic erupted around us. As always, those drunkest, or most foolish, chanted the incantation for kashonim, invoking the full power of their lineage. It was easy to tell who’d done so. There’d be a hurricane of energy around them, a minor earthquake from a single jump, lightning as bright as the sun nearly leaving their stave in ashes. Patrols were doubled the night of the Oath Ceremony just to account for the idiocy.
As the music sped up, Tristan twirled me while one soturion uprooted a tree. More began to call on kashonim, and every single one of them began to fall, keeling over and collapsing, unable to sustain so much power at once. We’d barely been out there half an hour, but the celebration was already littered with passed out mages and soturi either being stepped over or arranged into compromising positions by their friends.
The music slowed again, and fewer couples remained on the dance floor. Some of the new soturi were getting into brawls while their friends cheered on the sidelines.
I wrapped my arms around Tristan’s neck, and he leaned in, his lips on mine.
“Do you want to go somewhere?” His voice was husky with desire.
“By those trees,” I said, squeezing his hand.
We weaved our way through the crowd—most of the party attendees were too drunk to notice. We weren’t the only ones suddenly caught up in the frenzy and lust on the field.
There was a scream, and I turned to find another brawl had broken out. Not a brawl, a five. Five soturi taking on one soturion.
Naria.
She was unskilled, taking hits and punches in the belly or on her back. Punches that would have left me on my knees and bawling in unimaginable pain. But she seemed unfazed, as if she’d merely been slapped. She easily missed her targets with her poor aim but happily laughed in response, even after taking a punch to her jaw.
I leaned back against the tree I’d found, away from the other couples. Moans of pleasure whispered through the leaves rustling around us. I closed my eyes as Tristan fumbled with my armor, loosening the unfamiliar straps until he could fit his hands inside, pushing aside my cloak and pawing at my breasts. His thumb brushed against an already hardened nipple, and I gasped, pulling him closer. Gripping his belt, I wrapped my leg around his hips. Tristan unhooked my golden plates, his hands sweeping over my shoulders, baring me to him.
I closed my eyes, head falling back.
We were pressed against a sun tree. His jaw was clenched, and his hands were rough on my hips. I wanted him so bad, I ached. He leaned in, his cheek pressed against mine the way it had when we were dancing. I could feel his breath in my ear and my knees weakened.
“I want to kiss you,” he said, with that beautiful northern lilt to his voice. “Can I?”
“Yes.”
His lips brushed against mine, soft, tentative, testing. He pulled back, and his emerald eyes met mine. They sparked with desire, and his mouth was on mine again, his lips moving with a fierce softness as he deepened the kiss, tasting me, moaning into my mouth. The sound drove me wild, as did his taste and the feel of him. My core heated, and I pulled him against me, his hips settling against mine. One hand wrapped around my waist, traveling down my hips and around to cup my ass. His other hand rose to cup my chin, his fingers caressing my cheek.
“I want you,” he growled in my ear. “I’ve always wanted you.”
Then he pulled back, removing my robe, baring me to him. His blood was my blood, running through the enchantments of our armor, through my body. He was under my skin. There was a new scar on my wrist to accompany my blood oaths, linking us together forever.
“You feel so good,” he breathed, his aura swirling around me, cocooning me, claiming me. I couldn’t catch my breath.
