And I do want him to fuck me again.
“Well, there was all this talk about a seal, wasn’t there? About dangerous unfettered powers and magical bracelets that could contain me. And somehow, the bracelets are destroyed and an ancient tree has made me eat a seed, and I have no idea what’s happened to this supposed seal. Don’t you think it’s reckless, then, that you would continue to tempt me in this manner? For all you know, I’m a loose cannon. I could destroy you at any given moment.”
In truth, I am fearful of hurting someone—of hurting him. Those times when my power manifested in wild and unpredictable ways, I was helpless to control it.
I fear the power of the earth; of the trees and the wood that turns to a wild, living thing within my grasp. I could accidentally strangle someone, or crush a body without meaning to.
Corvan simply smiles; a slow, indulgent smile. “Finley, in this strange new world of ours, it seems we deduce most things by accident and chance. And it’s become obvious to me that whenever you’re overflowing with power, the only thing that can contain you is me. When I drink from you, it subdues your power. So if you can’t control it, I’ll simply bite you again and again—until you learn to control it.”
“Huh,” I say weakly, overwhelmed by his simple logic and his overall sexiness. “It seems you get the better deal out of this.”
“Are you sure?” He slides his hand around the curve of my ass and over my thigh, slipping his fingers between my legs, parting them ever so slightly. “You know that every time I bite you, I can’t help but want to fuck you, too.”
He takes a deep breath.
A gentle shudder goes through him.
“But then again, even if I didn’t bite you, I’d still want to fuck you. You’re so gorgeous, Finley. More beautiful than anything I’ve ever laid my eyes upon before.”
I shrug—or at least, I attempt to shrug, my composure quickly falling away. “Well, you’re beautiful, too, even if you are a little too cocky at times.”
His thumb finds my entrance. Encased in supple leather, it feels rough and smooth at the same time. A different sensation. I rather like it.
His eyebrows rise as he feigns innocence. “Whatever do you mean by that?”
“I’m a dryad, remember? If you get out of hand, I might just bind you with wood.”
“If it’s you… I wouldn’t mind being bound.”
I laugh. “You’re impossible, you know that?”
“As are you.” He slides his thumb inside me. Then a finger, then another, stretching me.
I gasp as my arousal swells; as he gently moves his fingers back and forth, pleasuring me.
He leans in, his warm breath feathering my ear. “And here I was, all ready for battle; preparing to storm a castle for your sake.”
“Well, the storming of said castle’s going to have to wait a little, isn’t it?”
“So it seems.” He withdraws his fingers and gently rubs my clit, sending me into a silent little frenzy. Suddenly, he’s on his feet, lifting me up in his arms and gently depositing me in his big leather armchair.
He drops to his knees.
Spreads my legs wide.
Kisses me between them.
I close my eyes and arc backwards, consumed by pleasure—and him.
Enemies can wait.
We’re a little preoccupied right now.
46
FINLEY
After Corvan found me awake, he made sure I was well fed. I had a sumptuous lunch of smoked river fish and freshly baked bread, accompanied by verdant salad of garden greens and fragrant herbs with a delicate citrus oil dressing. Then there was stewed cinnamon apples and whipped lemon yoghurt, and mint tea to wash it all down.
He ordered me to rest again. Then I bathed and dressed—in simple black traveling garb of warm, sturdy fabric and leather.
Corvan has been in and out all day, attending to business around the castle. He’s coordinating the defenses and arranging the burial of the dead. Occasionally, I hear the solemn chanting of burial rites, delivered by a Hecoan priest.
They’re burying both the recently deceased and the corpses of those that became undead, giving last rites to both. They’re arming the soldiers and setting up weapons on the battlements.
Corvan’s expecting an attack. He thinks someone’s waiting for him to leave the castle.
Suddenly, all of Tyron is in war-mode.
From my vantage point through Corvan’s window, I watch as heavily armed men march across the grounds. Occasionally, a great boom rocks the glass—they’re testing the cannons.
It’s a world away from the bliss I enjoyed at the soft emergence of dawn—with him.
Corvan’s come back to check on me several times. He’s been terribly doting and protective today, bossing me about resting, eating, making sure the bite marks on my neck have healed—which they have; I seem to heal much easier since my powers were unlocked. When I took him to task for his overbearing behavior, he cupped my face and looked into my eyes. “Finley, I know you aren’t used to being treated like a queen, but you must allow me to take excessively good care you, even just for today.”
“Why?” I’d asked, bemused by his sudden intensity.
“I nearly lost you. And the realization of it has driven me a little mad. So don’t take me to task if I want to spoil you a little. I can’t help it.”
And it occurred to me then that something inside of him had changed.
He was different, somehow. More protective. More doting. And a little on edge. I can sense a cold anger inside him. It fills me with a hint of trepidation when I think about what he might be capable of.
And when I think of it the other way round—if someone were to try and steal me away from him again—I can understand him perfectly well, because I, too would be furious.
I want nothing more than to stay here in Tyron, by his side.
I want peace. I want the ghosts of the past to stop haunting Corvan. And it were up to me, I’d vanquish them all.
I close my eyes and try to feel the strange, unfamiliar power within me. I seek that pressure; the feeling that my own soul is too big for my mortal body, that wild energy that needs release, bursting forth from my hands, forming living tendrils out of wood and summoning the ancient forest trees.
I demand to control that power.
And yet, I find nothing.
It’s so frustrating. Eulisyn gave me that damn heart-seed, and for what? What good am I if I can’t even use my powers to protect and defend Corvan the way he does me?
Never before in my life have I yearned for power.
Now, I wish I was so strong I could vanquish all of Corvan’s enemies with a thought.
I don’t want to rule over others. I don’t want to try and claim some sort of false superiority.
I just want peace.
I want Corvan to know peace.
Why do they torment him so? Why can’t they just let him be?