22. Chapter 21

Chapter 21

F rom Sabra's feral grin, like she had just set something—or someone—on fire, Elaine presumed that Aya was not only surviving the council meeting but being her usual self. She wanted to ask about it, but the pile of books Nora offered from their order kept them distracted. To her dismay, much of it was only from the past hundred years or so. When she inquired if there was anything older, a distant look misted Nora's gaze and she shook her head.

"That's all," she said before vanishing back upstairs.

Elaine pressed her lips together and sighed. All the books spoke of was the ways they worshipped Aurora; the usual array of preferred offerings, ceremonies to occur at certain points in the years to correspond with seasons. The majority of which coincided with Spring, the birth of new life. Little, however, was spoken as to where Aurora might be bound or even anything pertaining to that story in general.

Essentially, they had nothing.

She leaned back into the tall wing-back chair and frowned at Sabra reading the book from across from her. "You said you asked Zari about the murals."

"Zari said they were commissioned to do them by a mysterious benefactor."

"And they truly have no idea who wanted those murals there or why?"

Sabra shut the book, the smile gone. "They explained everything they knew."

The small room, stifling with the heat from the fire, seemed to close in on Elaine. She swore the walls shifted and moved, inching closer. Shadows taunted her, whispering that the answer was just in front of her eyes. She was just blind to the truth. She wanted to push on the Zari angle, that so much time had passed, and Zari had proved themselves deceptive. How was Sabra to be sure their old flame wasn't lying now?

She knew Aya would say to trust Sabra, trust their friend's instinct.

But by the grace of the gods, it was hard.

Especially when the murals were the best connection they had to the goddess and her situation.

"Do you trust me?" Sabra asked.

Elaine's gaze flicked to the flames, letting herself surrender to them as she answered. "Of course I do."

It's Zari I don't trust.

The clock on the wall chimed deeply that midnight had arrived. Sabra assured her that Aya was on her way back and that she'd even offered to collect her and Alexios, but Aya refused, citing they wanted to check into a couple things first. Elaine relented but, sensing sleep wasn't about to come any time soon, crept downstairs.

She despised how quiet the warehouse was. It sounded nothing like home. The walls didn't speak or move, the shadows far too still. There was no familiar magic prickling in the air. It all felt wrong.

Outside wasn't any better. The overhead witch lights dimmed in the night hours, throwing long shadows along the worn cobblestone. Faint music murmured through the tangled streets, muffled among the cluttered buildings. She imagined Nora's club flush with patrons, eyes glassy from drinks and laughter spilling freely from shuttered windows and out of doors onto the streets.

It was alive; shifting, stirring, writhing against the dark. Defiant—or indifferent—against the threat of its own doom.

She shook her head and leaned back against the cold brick face. The temptation to explore, to throw herself into the shadows and wander freely through the quarter tugged at her gut. She closed her eyes, tipping her face upwards, when that strange presence brushed against her mind again. The voice she'd heard before slipped into her own thoughts.

Don't trust her.

Who, she wanted to ask. The question danced along her lips, burning her exasperation into an inferno.

Who? She snarled into her mind. Who can't I trust?

There was a beat of silence and were it not for the steady pressure against her mind, she might've thought whoever it was gone. Then the voice came again.

The one who walks in shadows.

A chill rippled down her mind.

"Elaine?" Aya's voice pulled her back.

As she opened her eyes, Aya approached. Alexios moved silently at her side, offering only a gentle smile before he headed inside. Once the door clicked shut, Aya tilted her head.

"Is everything okay?"

The words replayed as the pressure eased from her mind. It couldn't mean Aya. Out of everything in Purgatory, she knew beyond a shadow of doubt that she could trust Aya. That if anyone would burn the world for her, it was her. No, the voice was wrong—or they meant someone else.

They had to.

"Can't sleep. I was waiting for you."

Aya was silent for a moment, and she swore her lover saw right through the words. But, for whatever reason, she offered no fight or push. Instead, she closed the distance and gently cupped the side of her face. Lips met hers, warm and firm, possessive and thrilling. Sense scattered into the darkened streets, swallowed up by the shadows. Elaine leaned into the moment, clutching at Aya's shirts, hauling her close. She dug her nails in deep, relishing the whimper that escaped Aya's mouth—a sound she devoured with her own needy moan.

All too soon, Aya pulled away, breathing hard. Scarlett darkened her cheeks. Her gaze turned molten, promising only wicked and wondrous things in lamp light. Enough to send fire searing through her core. She would've done anything Aya asked of her in that moment. Hell, she would've ridden her damn hand in the shadowy street, not giving a fucking damn if anyone watched.

Aya cleared her throat and growled a single word. "Inside."

Elaine's mouth curled into a grin, but Aya shook her head with a soft laugh. "To sleep. "

"Bore."

"An exhausted one," Aya said as she swept to the door and pushed it open. As Elaine followed her inside, she added with a drawl, "And the next time I fuck you, I want to be present enough to leave you screaming my name."

Heat flooded low as Elaine released a shaky breath. "You're not playing fair."

They continued up the stairs to one of the rooms Nora set aside for them. It wasn't really a bedroom, rather an old storeroom. Shelves were pushed to the edge and a makeshift bed of plush blankets and furs was piled in the center. It was cool but pleasant enough, and a small pile of shirts she'd mended were folded in the corner.

Aya started to strip off when she paused, and it took Elaine a second to realize she was staring at the shirts.

Elaine drifted over and plucked the first one up, handing it over with a smile. Aya regarded it with a frown before she gently plucked it out of her hands. Elaine watched with pride as Aya's gaze devoured the shirt, simple in its design but of a fine material. She'd asked Nora for several ones, not caring if they were of an old design, along with a needle and thread. When she'd explained what it was for, Nora advised her it would be done. An hour later, a small parcel was left in the room, containing several fine shirts that she suspected had never been worn. They were of a light, silken material and she was almost regretful carving them up. She was sure any stitch work that she did would be wrong against the fine shirts, but in the end, she managed a decent enough job.

"You did this for me?" Aya murmured in wonder.

There was a slight shimmer to her eyes, her lips parted slightly. She spoke no more as she turned over the shirt, then moved across the room to inspect each one. Elaine remained where she was, enamored with the scene. Piece by piece, a smile stretched over Aya's mouth. Not one of snark or practiced for a crowd. This was soft, a little shy, but lit her up like starlight. Elaine had never seen anything so fucking beautiful.

Her own heart flipped and rolled, turned within its bony prison, until it became a nervous bird, beating its wings against the bars. The edge of the room faded away, becoming hazy, until she beheld nothing but Aya. She swore her own breath caught within her lips, not daring to venture any further, unwilling to dispel any kind of sound into the world. Silence claimed the room, broken only by the gentle rustling of fabric and the tiny sounds of delight from Aya.

Elaine was quite sure that Aya herself wasn't aware she made the sounds or that she smiled so brightly. She wasn't about to say a damn word, choosing instead to bask in every wondrous glow of the moment. Savor it like the finest of feasts. Sear it to her memory. Even if the very world ended tomorrow, she would have this. Her in a room with the woman she loved, watching in utter rapture as Aya grinned over shirts.

Aya stilled suddenly. One hand pressed flat over the last shirt. A tear spilled free, running down the side of her cheek. The witchlight hovering overhead caught it like a ruby against her skin, glowing with ribbons of light, of the very magic that bound them together. Not from any spell but from the choice they made to stand by each other, against whatever hellish feature awaited them or any enemy that arose to battle them.

"What did I do to deserve you?" Aya wondered aloud, and as Elaine went to answer, she realized the question was not directed upon her.

Not even to the gods.

But to whatever force lay beyond them that wove the fabric of existence and forged the gods themselves. Where choice and consequence entangled with destiny. Aya believed herself unworthy, and whilst it appeared she convinced herself that she was deserving, clearly some little voice remained. One whispering of her darkest fears.

Elaine moved.

Slowly, not willing to breathe, until she knelt by Aya. Reached out with a tentative hand until she tucked a wild curl behind Aya's ear, finally drawing her lover's attention. Unshed tears glimmered there, glowing in the warmth of witchlight. Her own heart ceased to beat, as though time stopped it.

"I assume you like the shirts," she whispered as her own mouth stretched into a grin.

Aya leaned into her touch, eyes still on her, burning right to her soul. She was aflame, every inch of her singing. Little more than a moth to the fire, she leaned in until their foreheads touched. Breaths entangled, joined the dance of her own heart now thundering as her hand dipped and found the rapid pulse beneath her palm. It sang in tune with her own, as though all parts of their whole being joined. All thoughts of the voice from the street, of that whispering warning, tumbled away.

"Aya—"

A finger touched her lips, silencing her.

"I change my mind."

"About?" Elaine's heart was a storm raging unbridled within her ribs.

And then it clicked. Aya shifted back and gently untied the shirt until it fell away from her body. Then she was bare, her midnight wings shifting slightly as Aya rose to her feet. Elaine could only stare, her mouth dry, her heart racing faster than it had ever done before. Enough that she imagined it cleaving through bone and flesh, falling to the floor so that she might offer it. Red and bleeding, and entirely belonging to Aya Sinclair.

She finally moved herself when Aya's hands dropped to her pants, slowly undoing the fastenings. The whole time their eyes locked, warring for control and dominance, neither willing just yet to cede control. As the fabric was pushed down Aya's long, muscled legs, etched with scars of battles and betrayals, and a life full of hardship, Elaine slowly moved. She tugged at the strings of her dress until it came loose. A small curse escaped her lips as she lifted the dress, breaking the war of control. Darkness wrapped around her as fabric slid over chest and face, then fell, and still she beheld nothing but the dark.

Ribbons of light spilled through as the shadows melted away.

Lips found hers.

Hard, commanding, stealing the very air she breathed. In turn she offered her own fire, letting it spark and skitter through her veins.

They tumbled back together, falling as one to the furs. Aya chuckled and brushed Elaine's wild curls away as best as she could. A fiery waterfall spilled down, encircling their faces. Aya offered that dizzying smile once again, though a dangerous glint sparked at the edges. Promised all the dark things she would tease from her. It scared her and thrilled her, though she knew with only a single word that it would stop, that if she asked it of Aya, she could wrestle the reins away. Claim them and become the master of this moment.

But she didn't want that. Perhaps later. Not now, not when she needed this. Hungered to lose herself to something that wouldn't harm her, bearing no interest in demanding anything she wasn't already willing to give. No sacrifice she wasn't willing for. A choice that for so many accursed years was not hers.

Now it was.

And she gave everything to Aya.

She leaned down to kiss her.

Aya stopped her, that grin turning feral, truly primal as her hands slid to Elaine's ass. And tugged her up.

"Ride my face."

Elaine moved, shifted until she settled over Aya's mouth. Felt her scolding breath at her core and she nearly came apart at the slight touch brushing against her clit.

Fuck.

"And I don't want you to hold back," Aya commanded. "I wanted you to fucking sit on my face, squeezing my head with your thighs. Ride me until you scream and keep going until you forget every fucking thing beyond this moment, beyond us. "

She did as commanded.

A wildfire of magic exploded up through her chest as she felt Aya's mouth claim her core. She was consumed, writhing, and rolling her hips. That wicked fucking tongue circled her clit, teased it, tasted, claimed it until her veins burned with molten metal. She threw her head back, gasping and pleading, never stopping or letting herself slow. Moving to the dance flowing between them. Feeling every lick and suck and touch.

She raced toward that edge, fighting the urge to throw herself over. To scream. No, Aya wouldn't stop, even if she let go. She would consume her, devour every drip of her.

Hands clamped hard on her hips, keeping her fixed, bound to the mouth that was driving her into oblivion.

Breaths became short, gasping. Pleas became wordless. Her hips became shaky.

Stars splintered across her vision.

Sparks of ice shot down her arm, spearing the furs. Snowflakes began to fall, melting upon the furs. Tiny flames skittered through her fingers as she leaned forward, grabbing hold of the wall, clinging to it with every scrap of strength she had.

Aya's finger slid inside, finding home.

A scream ripped from her lips.

Another finger slipped in, then a third, stretching and teasing that spot.

Elaine's very control was slipping like water through her fingers. She couldn't do this anymore. If anyone tried to shatter the moment, she'd burn them to fucking ash. This was hers to claim, this moment, this night.

Aya sucked on her clit—hard.

Elaine drove her fist into the wood, splintering it as she came. A primal scream speared from her lips as all the magic roared through her—Vikra's and Arkans and Dianera's, all of it twining together as she tumbled over that edge. Down into the abyss as ragged breaths and whimpers spilled free. The little she could do as Aya let her go.

She remained where she was. Sweat dripped down her skin, glistening in glowing rivulets. She tasted salt upon her lips as she released a shaky laugh before finally shifting back, crumbling into the furs.

Neither one of them moved or spoke. Heavy breaths were all that filled the space. The stench of sex thick in the air.

She half expected someone to burst through the door. Tobias or Sabra, perhaps, sword in hand, ready to defend them from monsters. As if they were being killed. She certainly screamed as she swore her own soul left her body, floated above them for a moment.

"No one is coming," Aya finally said, her voice hoarse, like she, too, had been screaming.

Perhaps she had.

Elaine twisted her head, finding Aya staring up at the ceiling. One arm was propped behind her head. The smile was there, oozing with an ease, with a peace that Elaine wanted to sear to her fucking soul. It was worth every struggle and sacrifice, and she was not afraid to fight anyone for it.

She would fight the very gods themselves if it came to it.

Kill them, even. Consequences be damned.

"If there was any concern," she began, finally turning that smile upon her and she melted into the furs as Aya went on, "then I imagine Alexios explained I was with you. I imagine they could figure it out from there."

Elaine rolled onto her stomach and flipped her wild curls out of the way, feeling them cling a little to her shoulder. It normally was something she hated but she found no care for it, glowing with the hum of magic and the feel of Aya's mouth.

"I know you like your toys but if you ever want me to ride you like that again, there will be no complaint from me," Elaine said softly.

Aya rolled her eyes. "It is adorable you think that is where this night ends."

Elaine sat up quickly. "Surely you can't have—"

In a blink, Elaine was flipped onto her back. Aya hovered over her, one hand already sliding down to her sensitive core. "I do remember saying making you scream until you forgot everything."

"And?" she laughed.

Aya's gaze turned black. "You're still talking."