Page 4 of A Ride of Peril


  “So, it’s basically more intense than pure physical attraction?”

  “It’s like hugging the sun, Vita. You burn and you can’t do anything about it. Putty in their silvery hands.” He chuckled. “Anjani used her nature on me once at full power, just to prove a point. Trust me, you can tell if Bijarki ever uses it on you. No doubt about it.”

  I nodded, feeling a wave of relief washing over me. At the same time, my heart twisted into knots, as I got the confirmation I needed—I had feelings for Bijarki, all of them mine, not a single thread fabricated by the incubus, not even a smidge to sway me in his direction. And Jovi had noticed. The realization smacked me over the head, making me gawk at him.

  “You know about Bijarki?” I managed to ask.

  “It doesn’t take a scientist, Vita.” He smirked. “There’s clearly something going on between the two of you.”

  The way he took my words and used them against me merited a round of applause. I nodded my appreciation with a faint smile.

  “That being said…yes, of course I’m afraid I’ll get my heart broken, Vita.”

  He looked at me. His gaze softened, and his lips stretched into a faint smile.

  “I’m falling for a warrior succubus, after all,” he added. “But that won’t stop me from trying for what I want. And I want her. Life is way too short and, in our case, far too dangerous to worry about a broken heart. I’d rather regret something I’ve done than look back with my last breath and hate myself for not having acted on my feelings.”

  His words sank into me like cement bricks in a lake. I mulled over his reasoning as we went back out into the corridor. We had two rooms left on the top floor before we moved our search downstairs.

  “Don’t get me wrong, Vita, I really enjoy your company, but I get the feeling we’d cover more ground if we each take one room. What do you think?” he asked, smiling sheepishly.

  I laughed lightly and patted him on the back.

  “Of course. I can’t stand you anymore, either.” I grinned, then pointed at the bedroom on our right. “You take the bedroom. I’ll take the study, and we’ll meet up downstairs, okay?”

  “Sounds like a genius plan.” He smiled and pecked me on the cheek. “Thank you for listening. I’ve not spoken to anyone about this. I really appreciate it.”

  “Anytime, Jovi.” I sighed. “We are family, after all. And here, we’re closer than ever.”

  He grinned and disappeared into the bedroom, while I made my way into the east wing study. It looked far more spacious than it actually was, mainly because the bookshelves that covered the walls from ceiling to floor were carved inward rather than mounted. There were hundreds of books on them, most of them leather-bound.

  I sighed, taking it all in, and leaned against the writing table set in the middle. It was a beautiful room, with a comfortable chaise-lounge under one of the three large windows facing east. There was plenty of natural light coming in, and the wood floor flaunted a handcrafted herringbone detail beneath the smooth lacquer. This room had been cleaned recently, and I couldn’t help but wonder which one of our group had taken an interest in it.

  I had my work cut out for me, so I started from the left, flipping through pages and checking every book for the swamp witches’ symbols. I lost track of time. When I reached the other side of the wall, I’d had no luck in retrieving the third book.

  The silence was blissful, as I continued processing everything that Jovi had told me about his budding relationship with Anjani. No matter how I flipped my own situation from one side to another, the conclusion was the same. Life was short and dangerous for an Oracle like myself, I clearly had feelings for Bijarki, and all I had to do was gather the courage to do something about it.

  A creak to my left startled me. I jumped back a couple of steps when the library wall split open. One of the shelf segments was pushed forward like a secret door.

  I felt the cool breeze blow over me and froze when Bijarki emerged from the darkness. The torch in his hand had died out.

  He stilled in the bookshelf doorway, clearly surprised to find me there. The look of confusion on his face as he quickly scanned the room made me realize he didn’t know where he was.

  “I’m sorry, Vita. I didn’t mean to disturb you,” he said.

  “It’s… It’s fine. I was just looking for the book,” I managed to reply, my voice high pitched.

  “Where am I, exactly?”

  A moment passed, and I blinked several times before I could process a response.

  “The study in the east wing, top floor.”

  “Ah,” he nodded and smiled. “I followed one of the underground tunnels. It brought me all the way up here. Someone actually took the time to carve out all the stairs, if you can believe it.”

  I started wondering where else those tunnels would lead, but before I could think of anything else to say, Bijarki measured me from head to toe, a familiar twinkle in his eyes.

  “I won’t keep you any longer. I’m sure you have a lot of areas to cover,” he said politely. He bowed respectfully and turned to go back down through the secret tunnel.

  This is it. This is my moment. Be brave! Be Jovi!

  “Wait!” I said and walked over to him.

  Bijarki turned around just in time for my lips to find his. I pushed myself up on my toes and kissed him, thrilled by my boldness, then instantly melted by how good he tasted. I didn’t move, but Bijarki opened his mouth, and his tongue demanded to taste mine. I welcomed him, and he instantly devoured me.

  He set aside the torch and drew me into his arms, holding me against his solid chest, and I softened into the kiss. He groaned softly, and my core ignited as he took me deeper into our moment. We consumed each other, and I felt the intensity between us grow to the point where I thought we would eventually explode and tear the clothes off each other.

  I reveled in his embrace while he explored every corner of my mouth. I felt it. Jovi was right; I could tell the difference. My head felt light, my mind barely a feather. Arousal roared like crackling lava through my veins, setting me on fire. My whole body tingled, and I could almost feel jolts of electrical currents rippling through me. I felt weightless as I welcomed the reckless abandon and wrapped my arms around his narrow waist.

  My fingers clutched the hard muscle ridges along his spine, my chest incandesced by the feeling of his body so perfectly molded against mine. Billions of colors swirled before my eyes. I couldn’t stop. I didn’t want to stop. I wanted more.

  I heard Bijarki groan before he pulled himself away, clutching my shoulders as my arms fell to my sides.

  I was breathless and unable to formulate a single coherent thought. I felt my eyes droop as his steely gaze found mine, his lips swollen and glistening from our kiss. His skin glowed peculiarly, and I wasn’t sure whether it was the sunlight or something else. He seemed to light up from the inside.

  His breath was ragged as he looked at me. “I’m… I’m sorry, Vita… I can’t control my nature when you go and do crazy things like that.” His voice was husky and incredibly seductive.

  I felt the tingle dissipate from my limbs, but nothing else changed. I was hot and in serious need of him. He tasted like heaven, and I felt the absence of his lips profoundly. That was all me. I knew it.

  He seemed to struggle to keep himself under control. I could feel the power emanating from him in scattered pulses as he took deep breaths and closed his eyes for a moment, trying to regain his composure.

  “Crazy things like what? Like this?” I said and kissed him again.

  I hadn’t exhausted my courage. Clearly there was more where the first round had come from.

  He groaned and responded, his tongue touching mine as we dissolved into each other.

  And I felt it again, enveloping me like sheer bliss, this mindless need for him buzzing through my veins.

  He cupped my face with his hands and forced himself to a halt, breaking our kiss to take another look at me. His eyes were two pools of dark silv
er, hooded and laced with desire. He breathed heavily and stifled his incubus nature once more.

  “Yes,” he gasped. “You are shaking me to the core, Vita. I’m forgetting who I am and what I’m doing here.”

  We stared at each other, until I realized that it didn’t matter whether his incubus nature was on or off. All it did was amplify what I already felt to a ridiculously superb level, rocking every inch of flesh and every flicker of soul that made me who I was.

  The touch of his skin was my cure for everything. I smiled and leaned into his right hand.

  He looked at me, his gaze settling on my lips before it found my eyes. My heart ached for more of him, and I welcomed the feeling. The freedom it offered me was priceless, as opposed to the doubts I’d been struggling with over the past few days.

  I placed my palm on his chest, feeling the muscle beneath his shirt as it flexed and hardened even more under my touch.

  “I’ve stopped fighting this,” I replied, my voice barely audible. “Maybe it’s time for you to stop fighting it as well. Maybe you should stop worrying and simply be yourself. I like it.”

  He stilled, his breath stuck somewhere in his throat. His eyes were wide, watching me as I threw him a lazy smile and left the room. I closed the door behind me and nearly collapsed, shocked and exhilarated by my decision to take our relationship to another level.

  My heart throbbed, violent butterflies wrestled in my stomach, and my lips were tender. I could still taste him, and I smiled as I realized it had all been worth it. I would do it again. He would crumble, and I would melt into him. We would forget about the world for a minute.

  Serena

  After searching through a couple of bedrooms with no luck, Draven and I started looking through his study. The fire was out, and I was thankful to not be boiling while rummaging through shelves and drawers of Draven’s most precious belongings. This was his safe space, his haven when everything else was dark or dismal around him.

  On many levels, my presence there felt as intimate as being in his bedroom, in his bed, sleeping in each other’s arms. I found myself treating each object I touched with absolute reverence, out of respect for him and his Druid craft. Draven sifted through one bookshelf, while I took the other one, our backs to each other.

  We’d been at it for a couple of hours.

  Talking through things with Draven had yielded results in the past, and it often gave me the resolve I needed to keep fighting the possible future described in Vita’s visions. While he wasn’t exactly the most optimistic creature I’d ever met, talking to him did help me find solutions to problems that were critical for our survival in Eritopia that I would have missed otherwise.

  “So, once we find the third book, what do we do next?” I asked.

  “We put the three together and decrypt their pages. They’re broken in three, hence there’s a high probability that we’ll have to do a little mix and match between them,” he replied, moving his attention to another shelf.

  “Do you think that will be enough?”

  “I don’t, actually, but it’s a good place to start. The swamp witches were known to walk through fire without ever getting burned, along with other equally stunning accomplishments. Finding that spell and figuring out how it works is the only way for us to reach Mount Zur, the volcano closest to Azazel’s dungeon. You know, since we’re not made of lava and limestone like the Dearghs.”

  I found his sarcasm endearing. I looked over my shoulder to find him smirking at me and gave him a brief eye-roll in response before I resumed my search. We had a way of saying more to each other without words, sometimes.

  “And once we make it that far, what next?”

  “There’s approximately one mile of jungle and hills up to Azazel’s castle from there,” Draven replied. “We’ll have to sneak through and infiltrate the dungeon. But there are spies and hostile elements all over that stretch of land. It will be extremely dangerous.”

  I had a feeling he’d oppose me coming with him on this mission, so I decided to stomp that flame before it turned into a full-blown argument. “Yeah, not the first time or the last,” I shot back. “You’ll need me there, and you know it.”

  He said nothing for a while, and I didn’t challenge him further. I’d made my point. Persistence would have dismantled my stance, making it seem like I was trying to convince him to let me come along instead of stating it as a fact.

  I could feel his gaze drilling into the back of my head, but I didn’t look at him. I focused my attention on another shelf stacked with leather-bound books.

  “Why are all your books leather-bound, Draven?” I asked sarcastically, changing the subject before he could ponder it too long. “Do you not realize how difficult it’s making this task of finding a specific leather-bound book if they all look the same? Hm?”

  “Unfortunately, I was not responsible for the printing and binding process,” he replied, his voice tinged with amusement.

  “Of course you’re not responsible,” I sighed, continuing the ruse and flipping through another book, this one a brief history of Lamias.

  I’ll read this one later. I put it back and moved on to another shelf.

  Draven changed the subject. “We need to get Sverik out of that dungeon in one piece, alive and motivated to cooperate with us. It’s not just his intel that I’m after. He’s known well enough in these lands to rally the few remaining incubi and succubi who have yet to swear fealty to Azazel. He’s essential to our cause, especially now with the Red Tribe decimated to a bare dozen.”

  I sighed, remembering the harrowing scene we’d witnessed the day before. A thought occurred to me, given that Sverik’s father was still a traitor to Eritopia.

  “Are you sure Sverik can be trusted, since Arid is under Azazel’s command now?” I asked.

  “I don’t trust him at all, but he’s a risk we have to take, given how little support we’ve managed to gather so far from the remaining peoples of Eritopia. If we’re to make any progress against Azazel, we must take a leap of faith,” he said, then turned to look at me. “After all, I’m already risking everything by opening my soul to you, Serena.”

  I stilled, and my gaze found his. For a moment, I lost myself in his gray eyes, feeling the absence of the wall between us and relieved to be able to sense him entirely. Warmth emanated from him in ribbons of gold that twined around my heart.

  “I’ve never allowed myself to get so close to anyone,” he added. “And mind you, we’re in the middle of a war. I’m no longer merely taking risks with you; I’m downright reckless.”

  I couldn’t think of anything to say. All I wanted was for him to not push me away again. I wasn’t sure I’d make it without him, and it scared the hell out of me. Yet I wouldn’t have it any other way.

  “Though I wouldn’t have it any other way.” He smiled, and my heart fluttered.

  I nodded, delighted by how our minds worked in perfect unison, and resumed my search. I flipped through another book and found three graphite portraits on loose pieces of paper. They all depicted the same woman, a beautiful creature with familiar features. The cupid’s bow mouth, the light-colored hair flowing loosely over one shoulder, the slim nose and soft lines—I’d seen her before, perhaps, but I couldn’t put my finger on it.

  “Draven, who is this?” I showed him one of the portraits.

  His expression changed, a shadow passing over his face as he recognized the figure. His brow furrowed as he looked up at me.

  “My mother, Genevieve,” he replied.

  I was surprised, but, a few seconds later, it began to make sense. I looked at the drawing, then at Draven, then back at her. I noticed the similarities. The softness in his cheekbone lines, the shape of his lips, even a little around the eyes. Yes, she was definitely his mother. I admired her beautiful face and couldn’t help but wonder about her. There was something there in her eyes, a certain gravitas that the artist had captured perfectly, a flicker I’d noticed in Draven when he spoke about Azazel and
the Druids.

  He noticed my curiosity and came up to me, taking one of the portraits in his hand to get a better look. I noticed affection lighting his face up, and I instantly fought back the urge to hold him. I could only imagine what growing up without her must have been like for him.

  “She was a Druid of great skill, a mistress of natural sciences,” Draven said, his voice low. “She died giving birth to me. It was a great loss to Eritopia and the beginning of the end, in a way.”

  I could feel his pain freely pouring into me. Whether it was my sentry nature or just perception, it didn’t matter. I placed my hand on his chest, and looked up at him, the question floating in my mind. He understood somehow and nodded slowly. With deep breaths I syphoned the grief, a deep shade of ice blue. Sharing his feelings felt more intimate than anything else that had happened between us.

  “Tell me more.” I beckoned him to open up, so I could syphon more and ease his suffering as best I could.

  “She was one of the leaders of our kind. She controlled one of the richest parts of Eritopia, a vast land ripe with valuable resources, one of twenty planets, or kingdoms, as they were officially referred to. Most of her kingdom’s income came from trade, and her revolutionary advances in science made production processes easier and more cost-effective. Azazel ruled over another region which, funnily enough, subsisted mostly from the imports from my mother’s land. Her influence reached across all of Eritopia’s planets, and she held great power over Azazel at the time. He didn’t dare make a move against her or anyone else, for that matter, since she supplied all of Eritopia with precious metals and ore, not to mention grains and other goods.”

  “And your father?”

  “He held control over the neighboring planet. It’s how they met, actually.” A smile passed over his face. “It was love at first sight, he once told me. By then, there were already rumors that Azazel was getting too ambitious for his own good. He went after the swamp witches first, killing them off one by one, using paid assassins that were never traced back to him. He’d been constantly reprimanded for his territorially aggressive actions, but my mother was held back by the council. She would have done more to punish him for the way in which he annexed strategically important strips of land, using his armed forces, but the Druids persisted in their peaceful, diplomatic ways, unwilling to accept that the world as they knew it was coming to an end. And there could be no reasoning with the likes of Azazel.”