He kisses me again, harder this time, then pulls back. “We can change minds later. And I’ll look into your friend’s studies, my queen.” Another kiss, his tongue slipping inside my mouth this time. I lightly suck on it, mewling at the sheer way heclaims me, commandeers my lips and body to greet him. Skar’s body ruffles the covers as he slides over. His cock is a weighty pillar between his thighs, thickening, lengthening, and it presses against my broad hip. “First, I have otherpressingmatters . . .”
I cup Skar’s chin, smiling, melding into him in a sensual embrace. While he’s relaxed, I claim his wrists with my hands and push him onto his back, pinning them over his head. He stares up at me delectably, grinning. My legs wobble as I straddle the wiry nobleblood, my thick thighs bracketing his narrow hips. My ass plants down on that monstrous beast of his, which throbs deliciously beneath me, teasing my soaked cunt with its scalding heat.
I match Skar’s grin. “Let’s see if your shadows can save youthistime, you demon.”
We fall asleep entwined, hours later. The evening left me breathless and shaky. I’m awake a few short hours after that, and I wrap a heavy robe gifted to me by the Chained Sisters so I can step out and go to the underground hot spring to bathe.
My sleep has come in spurts in recent days due to all the things happening at once, swimming in my head. It makes the wee hours of morning like this peaceful. A time for myself.
A few bodies dot the eating room as I pass through it, murmuring in low voices. I recognize a couple Sisters, clad in robes like I am, conversing with Grimsons. Most of the Firehold is still asleep at this hour.
I wonder what kind of morning it is on the Floorboards, past this cave ceiling. How does the sky look? Is it gray with clouds? Brilliantly blue? I’m not curious enough to actually go look, deciding to form a vision of how I wish the sky to appear in my head instead.
Shuffling my way through the central dining hall, which shoots off to the southern hot springs, I catch a slight form rise from an eating bench. My eyes veer over and I see Imis hurrying through, finishing her breakfast.
“Im,” I call out.
She freezes, as if she’s guilty about something. Slowly, the slight woman peers over her shoulder. “Sephy?”
I approach. “Headed to the temple?”
She nods deeply.
Something sits uncomfortably in my chest. Resisting a wince, I speak softly. “All this demon-hunting and demon-learning, do you think it’s good for your mind? Have you not grown a bit . . .”
“Obsessed?”
Now I do wince, shrugging helplessly.
She gives me a kind smile. “We all have our obsessions, Sephy. Everyone could hear yours last night. At least I keep mine private and quiet.”
My cheeks burn like the sun, and I gawk.Shit. She heard us? Who else did?I suppose I’ve stopped trying to be quiet when I’m with my mates, because who knows how long we have until the next tragic battle or attempt on my life? There’s no point in being squeamish these days.
I also didn’t expect Imis to be one to fire back at me, because she’s always been so quiet and sweet.Everyone changes,I muse.
She smiles coyly at me, not with any malice. I wonder if there’s some jealousy in that smile and her tone. Shedidkiss me, many years ago, trying to “break the spell” I had inadvertently cast over her when I became a fighting champion for the Grimdaughters. She meant nothing by the barb now, just as she meant nothing by the kiss then. I shouldn’t be so spineless as to be hurt by it.
“Well let me go with you, at least,” I eke out, clearing my throat, trying to hide my flushed cheeks while I stare atsomething uninteresting in the distance. “It’s been years since I’ve attended mass at the temple.”
And many more years I’ll gladly wait.The truth is, I don’t care about the Temple of the True. Idocare about Imis’ safety, however.
Her face sinks, and I already know the refusal is coming. But that doesn’t make it hurt any less when she says, “Thank you, my friend, but I prefer to take in the solemn presence of the Truehearts in solitude. I feel safe there.”
She turns and shuffles off, leaving me holding the air, watching hopelessly after her.Yes, that’s what I’m afraid of, Im.
Over the past few weeks, things have moved in a lilting daze. We work during the evenings to pass out the Silverblood and engage the city in our disruptive rebellion. Correspondences start to come in. Letters from comrades who wish to stay on our good side, or at least give the pretense of aiding us. I go over the messages with Antones on a daily basis, shuffling through coded letters, notes hidden by text only readable through firelight, and other dubiously designed intelligence.
It seems that not only have we become the leading gang in Nuhav—fighting for good rather than profit—but we’ve also begun utilizing their communication strategies. I find it ironic, Antones finds it shameful.
“We can’t just air this shit out in the open, Ant,” I tell the aging man, sifting through a stack of pages on the desk I’m sitting at. The pages arrive either by herald—transcribed if necessary—or courier, or fucking messenger pigeon. I don’t even know where all these letters are coming from at this point, but I think we need a secretary.
If nothing else, the letters prove our activities have been fruitful. We have Silverblood in the hands of all the major players. Now we just need proof that it’s working to disrupt the Olhavians.
Antones, for his part, is growing more curmudgeonly by the day. He’s more prone to grunting like Vallan, or giving monosyllabic responses rather than evocative, flourishing answers that remind me of a simpler time.
Maybe he’s unhappy his Firehold has swollen to the size it is now, with more Grimsons and Grimdaughters than ever before. In a matter of weeks, the place has grown to over two-hundred souls. Four times its number than when I first returned with the Chained Sisters.
“This is the result of progress,” I tried to tell him a few days ago, to which he simply grunted and limped off.