Chapter 22

The man snored in his sleep. It wasn’t a slight snore either. He sounded like a damn trumpet. Not that Meira was trying to sleep. She’d worried that if she did, he’d find a way to sneak off again and this time she wouldn’t be able to catch him. But the man didn’t wake once after he’d fallen asleep in a matter of seconds.

Damn him.

For far too long she’d sat in that armchair watching him. Then her thoughts kept running back to her catching him out in the snow, his firm muscles below her, how he’d twisted around to face her, and she’d felt the reaction of his body under hers. Even now as she seethed about this entire circumstance her thighs were clenched tightly. She could let her hands slip below her waistband, relieve herself of this tormenting ache. The thought of him catching her in the act thrilled her. What would he do?

No. She scolded herself. This was senseless. No matter what they experienced in some other timeline it meant nothing here. Attraction was only that. They were just two people who found each other appealing to the eye. She couldn’t actually like him; she didn’t even know him.

Thus, she reasoned, she shouldn’t care what he thought.

Her hand slipped into her leathers and under the thin layer of her undergarments down to her slick folds and that sensitive bud. She bit into her lip to keep quiet and found a rhythm that grew the traitorous pleasure. All too quickly her mind raced back to the memory of dancing against the hard planes of his body and how his swollen cock had found her core through their clothes. She could remember the wonderful feeling of his teeth against her skin and the flick of his tongue over her breasts.

Her entire core tightened at a blissful peak. Her head tilted onto the back of the chair, her mouth open wide. Though she tried her best to stay quiet a moan managed to escape her. When she came down from her high, she wasn’t sure that it had been enough, she could certainly go another round, but the snoring had stopped.

She cracked an eye open. Remis was perfectly still on the couch, his eyes closed, and chest still rising and falling with the slow rhythm of sleep. She exhaled and went limp in the chair. The need for sleep nagged her now. Her eyes drifted closed.

When Meira woke up, the sun was coming in through the window catching every piece of dust floating in the air. The space on the couch where Remis had been was empty. Dragons. She leapt from the seat, startled when a voice came from behind her.

“Good morning.”

She turned, her braids whipping around her with the movement. One almost whacked Remis in the chest but he caught it in his hand, fingers stroking the end once before he let it fall. “Were you just standing there above me watching?” Meira snapped, wanting to shove the chair out from between them so she could pummel him with her fists.

He huffed a breath. “Hardly. I was looking through the books. I got bored. I’m only here now because you flew out of that chair like your ass caught fire.” Those black eyes trailed her body as though he was imagining her ass right now.

Her cheeks flamed but when she turned toward the bookshelf evidence of what he said waited. Streaks were left in the dust where his finger had drawn several lines. A few covers were cleared of dust entirely and when she glanced at his cloak she saw where he’d wiped them against himself.

“What happened here?” He motioned to the home, though she imagined he meant more than just this one place.

Meira had never planned to return here, never wanted to see what had become of this place, but it was better than waiting to see if the dragonis found them in the woods. So when she’d reached the village’s limit and the columns—depicting the story of how the first witch had been born and then created the first coven—and found it was nothing more than forgotten history on rotting stone, she’d had to shove the torment of feelings that flooded her body deep down. She hardly let herself look at what had once been a floral shop, the old apothecary, and the butcher shop. Her body had moved on autopilot leading her right to the very street she’d grown up on.

She hadn’t been able to actually make it to her home. The idea of it had clumped in her throat and she couldn’t breathe around it. Instead, they’d stopped here, an old neighbor she couldn’t really remember.

“The town was ransacked and most of the inhabitants killed when Emperor Grandith came into power.”

When he’d sworn to kill all witches, is what she couldn’t say though it was implied. This was common knowledge. The hatred had been brewing for some time, starting with his father before him who’d never had anything good to say about a witch, or so she’d been told. Emperor Grandith had come to his own hatred more organically. He’d once loved a witch, had fought side by side with her when they’d seized the country and made it what it was today.

Meira’s mother had stories about how they’d slowly turned on each other, how one day the witch had marked Grandith with a huntress mark. Only Grandith wasn’t the one who’d been hunted. In the end, in his fear and rage, he’d hunted down every witch he could find.

“Oh.” Remis blinked. “This was a coven?”

She pinched the bridge of her nose, terrified of the onslaught of memories that might come forward if she thought too hard. “Not the entire town. A small coven did live here though. The village didn”t harbor hate for them like the emperor did and refused to give them up when he started his terrible crusade. Despite what you might think and the ridiculous things you’ve been told, witches aren’t evil.” The words spilled off her tongue fueled by years of never speaking them and festering under layers and layers of resentment and anger.

“The witches served the city. They were healers, masterful farmers, great crafters of steel, and teachers, but when his army came for them, the town fought for them…” Emotion clogged her throat.

“They slaughtered the entire place?” He’d gone pale in the early morning light.

“They burnt the women first. All of them. They didn’t know who were witches and who weren’t and so they all burned. Then they slaughtered the children.” Meira hadn”t stayed to watch the end of everything she’d known. She’d been terrified and had sprinted through the woods barefoot as her skin was whipped by stretching branches. When she’d finally reached the next town a day later she’d heard the rumors and could somehow smell the charred flesh from miles away. Smoke still drifted as fires had smoldered into the next morning.

“And the men?”

Meira frowned. “Those who didn’t beg forgiveness joined the others, but most were spared.” Men weren’t witches. Though they harbored them, these were productive members of the Empire and the emperor took pity on them. He’d been rumored to have told them he understood how easily a man could be swindled by a woman’s form as though every witch in the city had paid for her existence by being beautiful to look at.

It made her sick.

“Were there other survivors? Then the men? Did anyone escape?”

“What does it matter?” she hissed. “We’re all terrible creatures who eat babies and hunt innocent men for fun, aren”t we? Do you not agree that the emperor was right to declare witches a great evil?”

Remis took a step back as if she’d hit him. She saw it there in the pity of his eyes that he wondered if she’d come from here, if she’d survived that night. Never had she uttered a word to anyone where she’d come from. If she admitted to it she was as good as dead too. Her mother, when she’d heard of the village’s breach, had sent Meira out into the woods. In stark clarity, she remembered her mother’s eyes, several shades brighter as they’d become reddened with tears. “Meira, some things even time travel cannot prevent. Do not come back here. Ever.”

Meira had already spent years learning her power from her mother. They both could move through time but not without great consequences. Her mother’s warning had stayed with her and she’d never attempted to fix the wrongs of that night. She’d pretty well given up all magic as she’d known it. As much as she’d wished to save her parents, she didn’t dare break the last commandment her mother had ever given. She’d been right after all. Even if Meira could go back and warn the city, her parents never would have fled. They’d always, on every timeline, have stayed to fight.

“I—” Remis exhaled. “It sounds ridiculous now to think that witches ever ate babies. Up until now, you were like myths…but you…you…”

She stood, letting her anger drain from her body as she watched him try to process everything she’d just said. “I…” she whispered, waiting for him to finish his statement.

“You seem normal. Apart from this.” He lifted his hand, though the fabric was still tightly wrapped around it. “I don’t find magic such a frightening thing. It’s absurd, I suppose, that it suddenly becomes so terrible when in the hands of women.”

Meira hadn’t known what she thought he might say but it certainly wasn’t that. It wasn’t a compliment but it wasn’t a bad conclusion to come to either. Though he could be agreeing with her to gain her favor. Looking into his gaze, she saw no evidence of falsehood. She scrubbed at her face.

“Are you a mage?” she asked.

His shoulders rose and fell. “Not officially.” Then he laughed. “Actually, the only reason I was in these damned woods during dragonis season was to gain my father’s favor so I can attend schooling for magestry. I have business I’m supposed to attend to in Croughton.”

Crossing the bridge as he had, weaseling his way into her mind, she’d suspected his affinity for magestry. He’d need plenty more training though to be anywhere close to as powerful as a witch. What she hadn’t realized was that he was just like every other greedy man racing for Elton Hamza’s legacy.

“Enough with the history lesson.” She smoothed a hand over her braid, running her fingers over the place he’d touched. “We’re going.”

“Where?”

And men thought women were chatty. He never stopped talking and asking questions. She wished for that perfect silence that came when she was miles above the ground riding on Mrithun’s back. Mrithun was near enough she’d come if Meira called, but her dragon was skilled at staying out of sight. Often she wondered if the beast was able to camouflage.

Meira rolled her eyes at him but motioned for him to follow as she made her way out of the home. The morning frost made the dilapidated porch steps slick, so she took careful steps and purposefully led them away from her childhood home. After the city had burned, she’d been an orphan on the streets for a couple of weeks before she happened upon the scale riders who took pity on her. Even the man, Henry, who’d found her and adopted her was long gone. He died in combat two years later.

She was thankful when they were back in the woods and away from the forgotten city in the middle of nowhere. The ghosts of her past still lingered in her mind, but at least she didn’t have to look them in the eye any longer. Even better though was the fact that Remis wasn’t talking anymore. He’d fallen into a contemplative silence and Meira reveled in the break of conversation. Her break didn’t last all that long.

“Where are we going?” Remis began again, hand braced against a tree trunk as he stepped over a decaying log. Meira deadpanned. He grabbed her arm, stopping her in her tracks. “Please, tell me.”

She ripped her arm out of his touch, but he reached for her again. Ducking, she lunged forward, her shoulder finding its home in his gut as they toppled backward into a tree. His breath wheezed from him and she smiled as she righted. His hands were lifted in defense as if he might strike her. She huffed a laugh then. At the idea that he might think himself superior in a fight with a scale rider.

“Tell me,” he said again, slowly lowering his arms.

“I’ll tell you if you can get me on my back.” Then she chuckled again because the idea was so utterly insane, and he was outmatched in more than one area. Distracted by her own humor she almost didn’t notice when he darted at her, his fist flying for her face.

Her damn rabbit thought he was going to land a punch? Meira shifted out of the way, listening to the whoosh of air as his hand sailed by without contact. She shoved her foot forward catching him and watched with great joy as he tumbled forward.

Remis caught himself at the last minute. If he was surprised by how easy this was for her he didn”t show it. Likely assumed it was luck or just that she was fast. He bounced on his feet once, twice, a third time before attempting to run her through like a bull. Her fist found his solar plexus. He cried out as the pain ricocheted into his shoulder and reached for her, grabbing a handful of her cloak. With one flick of her finger, she’d undone the knot at her throat and slipped from the fabric.

He growled through his teeth and she swore she felt the vibration of it travel her entire body. Her cloak fluttered to the forest floor. Snow crunched under his boots as he threw another punch toward her. She answered with one of her own, pulling the weight of it but still connecting with his jaw. His face snapped to the side.

When he looked at her again, he opened and closed his jaw, a bloody lip staining his smile. “You hit like a girl.”

She didn’t pull her next punch and his nose crunched.

“Ah! Damn it!” Remis cursed, cupping his face.

Meira fought her smile.“You fight like a man of the Empire. You fight for show, pretty moves. There is no honor in fighting so stop pretending as if there is.” She snatched her cloak up from the ground. “Fight like your life depends on it. Because it does.”