35. Chapter 35

Chapter 35

" A ugust!" Luc yells over as he mounts his horse. "Make sure no one touches my beautiful emissary." I clench my jaw at his remark. I'm not an emissary yet. And I'm certainly not his .

Razenna and Luc trot towards the cemetery, and Sven and Mads pile wood for a fire. I approach August, seething. "What are you supposed to be?"

"A farmer," he says, "and you?"

I point to my headband. "A cat. Turn around," I bark at him, and he obliges. He chuckles as I hop onto my horse. I take a moment to readjust my cloak, hiding myself the best I can. "Let's get this over with."

"Oh, I have a feeling you're going to enjoy yourself tonight," he says coyly. "If you weren't caught up with us right now, I'd suggest going somewhere like this. There are a lot of fae there your age, and you could learn a lot."

I follow him through the woods for about twenty minutes before an enormous castle comes into view. It's at least twice as large as Helios castle, with large, towering spires and a massive courtyard surrounded by pillars and statues. Several smaller outbuildings surround the castle, but they match so perfectly that, at first, I didn't notice they were separate buildings.

"Welcome to The University of Mabon," August says, "the largest and one of the most prestigious universities in the fae realm. They even have an entire wing dedicated to the study of curses and magical maladies."

"That is the university?" I ask, awestruck. Torches light up the courtyard and line a path that slopes out of sight towards the shore. Several figures walk down the path wearing various costumes. As if we walk through an invisible barrier, suddenly music can be heard in the distance and the air is warm and comfortable.

We enter the courtyard, where several other fae are checking in their horses and cloaks. Razenna was right; many of these women are barely wearing clothes, and I already see two other ‘cats'. My favorite so far has to be the woman dressed as a seductive ghoul.

August checks in our horses, pays the entrance fee, and folds the note-card before putting it in his pants pocket. He holds out his hand for my cloak, and my stomach lurches.

"Come here," he says, and he pulls me to a secluded area near a Minotaur statue. "I know you're nervous." He pins me with his warm brown eyes. "I know you've spent the last year or so hiding who you are, living in fear. I hope, at least tonight, you can embrace that part of you and not be afraid of it. I won't let anyone bother you. There's nothing wrong with enjoying yourself and having a little fun."

His pep talk assuages some of my anxiety. "Thank you," I say. I'm still riddled with nerves, but I slide off my cloak.

His eyes widen fractionally as his gaze flicks quickly down my body and back to my eyes. He clears his throat. "I see I'll have my work cut out for me." He checks in our cloaks, and I take his arm, butterflies springing to life once more. I forgot how warm he is.

We start down the stone path, and I grip his muscular arm tightly on the slope. The torches on either side of us flicker and dance in the wind. The music gets louder, and below, butted up against a beach, is the amphitheater. The grassy lawn around us slopes gradually down to the stage, centered under a semicircle of pillars and archways. As the lawn approaches the stage, more and more stone seats are carved into the land in symmetrical rows. The most breathtaking part is the thousands of candles lighting up the stage and archways where the orchestra plays.

Several small bonfires blaze in mounds down the slopes, with groups dancing around them. Behind the orchestra and the archways, the largest bonfire sets on the beach, though this one remains unlit. Logs as tall as small trees lean against one another in the immense tower of combustible materials.

"Watch that group down there," August says as he guides me to a table full of the cutest sugar cookies I've ever seen, all decorated in some sort of Samhain theme. I pick up one that looks like a carved pumpkin and glance at the group. "See the scrolls they're throwing on the mound?" he asks. "They're performing burn spells. You write things you want to burn away from your life on one side of the parchment and what you want to ignite into your life on the other. We can do one if you like, but we'll need to hurry. They'll light the pyre when the last of the sun sets."

"That sounds like old-gods magic," I say, and I take his arm again. He smiles down at me, and we make our way down the slope. As we descend and the crowd thickens, the air around me is noticeably charged. I pull in, stretching my well.

"How long do you think until Luc will start pulling from my well?" I ask. "Should we be worried he isn't already?"

"Razenna thought it would take them a couple of hours before they find the sword but wanted us here just in case." We walk behind the stage and onto the beach, which seems much bigger now that we are down here. A table stands with parchment and quills, and I take one. August grabs a parchment as well and continues. "We should have plenty of time to enjoy ourselves."

I walk to one of three small standing tables and set my parchment down. On one side, I write, ‘I burn away from my life: shame, loneliness, and the fear of what I am.' I notice a sizable increase of energy in the air, and I glance over my shoulder at August, who stands at one of the other tables with his parchment. His gaze quickly jumps from my backside to my face and then back down to his parchment.

I turn back to my parchment and smile, heat building inside me. On the other side of my parchment, I write, ‘I ignite into my life: wealth, passion, and love.' I hesitate for a moment before writing the last word.

I roll up my parchment and toss it onto the 15 foot pyre. The air around me prickles and I look to my right, expecting to see August. Next to me stands a tall man dressed as a knight and his eyes are firmly locked on my breasts. I take a step back while folding my arms over my chest.

"Aw peach, I'm just admiring your outfit," he says, stepping towards me. "No need to be alarmed. How about I grab you a drink, and we dance?"

"She's with me," August says, stepping beside me and placing his hand on the small of my back. His warm hands are a comfort, and goosebumps spread as he gently slides his fingers up my bare back, caressing me.

The knight raises both hands placatingly and leaves without saying a word. August lightly slides his hand back to the small of my back and guides me back around the stage to the heart of the party. To the west, the last bit of sun dips below the horizon, and five masked men with torches march towards the pyre. When they reach it, the music intensifies. Each man takes a swig from a jar and spews it through their torch. The five streams of fire light up the pyre, and the dissonant crowd erupts with cheers and laughter. For a brief moment, my darkness stirs inside me and I get the distinct feeling she is pleased.

I find myself back at the cookie table and take three more cookies just as two more students approach. One of them wears magnificent ram-like horns.

"I love your costume," I yell to him over the music. He looks at me incredulously and scoffs.

"Can you believe that?" He says to his friend, and they walk away.

"That wasn't a costume," August says, guiding me from the table. "He's a druid. They have horns."

I look over my shoulder at him, and he's right. Those horns are clearly connected to him. I swallow my embarrassment.

A nearly naked fae walks past, body painted entirely in shimmering gold. My heart skips when she turns her head my way, eyes black as night—then she opens them. Her eyelids must be painted as well.

"Is she supposed to be a goddess?" I gesture to her with as much discretion as I can muster. "Since she has black eyes."

"I imagine so."

A flash of the prophet comes to mind, him in the throne room, golden light swirling all around Luc and me. His eyes seemed . . . "And the gods—they're all asleep now, right? Since that's where mages pull their magic from."

"As far as we know. We fae get our magic from the intermingled god and human bloodlines. People like Eoin are able to pull the magic straight from the sleeping gods. I've always wondered if that's the real reason the Prophet is so against humans using magic. Mage magic is a teachable skill. I can't teach you how to wield fire because it's not one of your set gifts. A mage can be taught to wield fire as long as they have the right tools. Imagine what a threat humans could be if he let that proliferate."

"Anyone can learn it?"

"Any human. It doesn't work like that for us. And it's like any art; some have more of an affinity for it. Eoin seems gifted. But with practice, most humans could pick up at least basic mage skills."

I recognize the next song, and my body moves rhythmically. "I need to dance!" I shout at August and turn to head towards one of the bonfires. I stumble, and he catches me, pulling me into his arms. He shakes his head slightly, but his eyes are soft this time.

I grasp his forearms, steadying myself. His muscles are taught, and I can't help but slide my hand up his arm and squeeze his bicep. He looks down at me through thick, dark lashes, and I focus on the freckle in his lash line. I lick my bottom lip before biting it. Gods, this man is perfect.

"You're feeling it, aren't you? It's the pyre. It really sets the mood for the whole festival." He smiles, revealing his fangs. I definitely am feeling everything right now: intoxicated, infatuated, and very turned on.

"I want you to bite me," I say breathlessly. "I can't stop thinking about it. It made me. . . feel things." His smile fades, and a muscle in his jaw ticks.

"We can't." His tone is firm, and he's lost the gentleness in his eyes. His words would sting more if I hadn't felt the sudden energy around us. I know he's turned on and wants to.

"Is it because of Lydia?" I ask, hot jealousy flooding my veins. He looks taken aback, and his gaze hardens.

"This has nothing to do with her. I don't want to harm you while you're trying to fill your well. Besides, you're loosely tied with Lucanis now. It would put an even bigger wedge between our courts. Don't tempt me with such things." His eyes trace the curve of my neck.

A large sudden dip in my well startles me, and I gasp.

"What?"

"Luc is pulling from my well. I need to find a spot to absorb and refill." We walk toward the stage near the beach, where a majority of the energy seems to be emanating from. Many fae have coupled off and are passionately dancing and kissing around the fires. I pull in and maintain a fairly full level.

"We can sit here if you like," August says, pointing to a small bench nestled under some vines. He sits next to me and leans back, relaxing.

I sigh and scan the party. From here, the side of the stage is visible, and if I lean a little, the main bonfire on the beach is too. My blood instantly heats as I notice a woman dressed as a cat on her knees before a man with auburn hair. Her head bobs, and he strokes her black hair. On the stage, two men kiss one another before kissing another woman. She turns around, and one of the men pulls her shorts down just enough to enter her.

I'm shocked and aroused. I cross my legs and squeeze, trying to quiet the heartbeat pounding between them.

"Are you starting to see why this festival has a reputation?" August asks. He scoots closer to me, and his leg brushes against mine. We watch the group on the stage. It feels wrong to watch, but I can't seem to look away.

After several minutes, August gently pulls my hair back over my shoulder and slides his hand across me. He lightly grazes my arm, stroking slowly up and down, and works his way up to my neck, making light strokes around the place he once bit me.

Everywhere he touches sends an electric current of pleasure through me. I close my eyes and let out a sharp exhale. This is torture. I'm painfully aware of his every movement, his every breath as he sits next to me. I watch the fae on stage as he strokes me, wishing he would throw me to my knees right here and take me like that.

A flash of lightning and a loud thunderous boom makes me jump. Up the slope, the unmistakable sound of rain hitting grass and pavement speeds its way rapidly toward us. Lightning cracks across the sky, and someone screams.

Everyone around us grabs their clothes and belongings and runs up the slope towards the university. A torrential blanket of rain hammers down on us.

I jump up with August, not sure where to go. "We can't leave the grounds," I say, looking around. My stomach lurches as I feel it again.

"August!" I yell over the thunderous downpour. "My well; I'm losing power rapidly."

"Shit," he says, looking around wildly. He grabs my hand and pulls me up the small set of stairs onto the stage. The large archways are several feet thick and shield us from most of the rain.

"August," I call to him again, panic creeping in. "What will happen if Luc takes it all? I can't regenerate here."

"You'll burn out," he says seriously. "You could die—permanently." My breath is shallow, and my eyes sting. August slicks back his wet hair and closes the gap between us. He bites the side of his wrist and presses it to my lips. I draw in his blood, and my well refills a little, but the flow stops. His wrist has healed.

"Your healing gift," he says as if that explains something. "This isn't going to work." He swallows hard and then turns around. "See if you can generate some independently. I'll stand guard."

"It won't work," I say, panic rising in my throat. "I can't do it myself. It doesn't work like that." My voice cracks. "I'm scared."

August turns around and takes me in. "I'll watch then," he says. His eyes meet mine, and he holds my gaze. "Relax. Listen to the rain, and I'll stay over here." He devours me with his eyes, and the air charges.

I lean against the archway, and I slide one hand over my breasts and the other down my center. Slick from rain, my lace bodysuit feels like a second layer of skin. I find my favorite spot and rhythm for quick release. The dozens of candles shielded from the rain flicker and cast strange shadows along the stones.

"It's working. I can hold my well levels evenly now, but I'm still only half full." I open my eyes and feel my blood rushing to meet where my hand touches my body. August's eyes focus on my hand, and he bites his lip.

My well creeps up again and I relax a bit, really starting to enjoy myself. He licks his lips and shifts his stance, his arousal now visually apparent. His eyes meet mine, and it looks like he is weighing something heavily in his mind.

I gasp again as a sharp dip in my well disorients me. August's eyebrows furrow. "What is it?"

"He's pulling too much too fast," I say, fear flooding my veins. I don't know what to do. I'm not going to be able to keep up. I don't want to die.

"Help me," I plead. He glances down at my body, and his eyes darken. He flexes his hands, restraining himself.

"Please."

His eyes dart back to my own, and he exhales a huff of air. He closes the gap between us and slides his hand to the back of my head, caressing my cheek with his thumb. My heart races in anticipation. I haven't stopped fantasizing about this man since my dream.

He tips my head to his and presses his warm lips to mine. Fingertips skim down the side of my neck as he pulls me closer.

Wrapping my arms around his neck, I knit my fingers into his hair. The rabble of butterflies in my stomach are only outmatched by the growing need building between my thighs. Our kisses grow more frantic and desperate.

I push against him, frustration building within me, and he steps back, pulling away. He holds up both hands as his wild eyes search my own. A part of me is even more turned on by how quickly he reacted when I pushed him and that he waits to see if I've changed my mind.

"I need more," I say, and he smiles wickedly. I wrap myself around him, pushing him backward with my advance. I feel him smile against my lips as I slide my fingers just over the edge of his pants. He grabs a fist of my hair, pulling my head back. He meets my gaze.

"You're a wild little thing, aren't you?" Fangs scratch down the side of my neck, and every nerve in my being lights up. I let out a moan as the air around me charges.

I push his suspenders over his shoulders and pull desperately at his shirt. He stands straight and pulls it up over his head, exposing his chiseled chest and abdomen. Lightning flashes with a loud crack that startles me, bringing me briefly back to reality.

"We can't," I say breathlessly. "What about your court? What would the other courts say?"

"The same thing they always say." He grabs my thighs and picks me up, kissing me until my back presses into the stone archway. "They'll say I'm a self-serving villain."

He pins me to the wall with his hips, and I open my mouth to him. His tongue finds mine, and he groans. The sound is intoxicating.

He kisses me passionately; one hand supports my thigh, and the other glides over my breast. I moan into his mouth, and he presses his hips into me. He is so hard. I feel the fabric of his pants through the lace, and the sensation makes me eager for more. I grind myself against him, and he nips my bottom lip.

"I've wanted to do this since the House of Cards," he says. He kisses my ear and makes his way down my neck, lingering and teasing me with his breath.

"Please," I beg.

He kisses my neck gently and then sucks before finally biting down. The sharp pain is quickly followed by pure ecstasy. I let out a low, carnal groan, and the air electrifies. I check my well, and it wavers as my body attempts to heal itself.

"I need more," I say. My voice sounds raspy.

He sets me down gently and takes one step back, undoing the buckle of his belt. The sight makes muscles involuntarily clench in my core, and oh, gods, I want this to happen so bad. It's been so long.

"Wait." A very dark part of me hopes he doesn't listen, but another part of me remains apprehensive. I hardly know him. I'm not ready. "No sex."

I watch his chest rise and fall twice as he contemplates this. He re-buckles his pants and grabs both sides of my face before kissing me deeply. "That's not a problem," he says, and he gently kicks my feet outwards, spreading my legs.

"What are you . . ."

He lowers himself to the ground before me and looks up at me through his dark lashes. A finger loops through the crotch of my bodysuit, sliding it over more and exposing my most private parts to him. My cheeks heat, and my heart pounds as if I were hanging from the edge of a cliff. August leans in and my breath hitches as he presses his lips to me.

There is a high lord kneeling before me with his mouth on my. . . "Oh, gods." My eyes roll back, and I groan loudly as he licks up my center and sucks gently on my clit. I tip my head back and lean deeper into the wall as he grips my thighs, throwing them over his shoulders. My palms slap into the stone wall as I brace myself. He devours me, body and soul, gripping my ass as I ride his face.

The pleasure builds within me, and I squirm in his firm grasp. My climax approaches, and I change my mind. I need him inside me.

I tug on his hair. "Please, please, I need it."

He shakes his head and continues to consume me, driving me closer to the edge.

Oh, gods, I'm almost there. Just a little . . . My heels dig into the muscles in his back as I arch my back and cry out. My thighs squeeze, convulsing around his face, and he moans against my most tender parts. The vibration sends me deeper into my orgasm.

"Oh!"

He pulls away from me, his warm breath heating my thigh. He slides my legs off of his shoulders, and my feet hit stone.

"You better keep his name out of your mouth while I'm between your legs." His tone is firm but slightly playful.

He glides fingers up the inside of my thigh as he stands, and his thumb finds my clit. He makes slow circles, and it's too soon after my climax. Everything is so sensitive. My legs tremble, and my muscles clench.

"I wasn't. . . saying his name."

He tisks and moves one of my straps down my shoulder, exposing my breast. "But you know who I'm talking about." He rubs harder, and I squeeze my legs together around his hand. "Let's try this again."

He kisses me hungrily, wrapping fingers around my neck. I taste myself on his lips as he darts his tongue into my mouth. He lifts me again, sliding his hand to the base of my head.

He carries me out to the beach into the rain, kissing me like our lives depend on it. Cool rain washes over us, and something bumps against my butt.

August shoves parchment and ink quills off the table before plopping me down. He grabs me behind each knee and tugs me to the edge of the table. He's rough with me, but I know he won't hurt me. I lean back on the palms of my hands and rest my feet on his back as he eagerly lowers himself back to my center.

I exhale sharply as he presses warm, light kisses up both of my inner thighs, and his beard tickles me. I tip my head back, savoring the contrast of the cool kiss of rain on my skin and the heat of his tongue as it enters me ever so slightly.

Waves rhythmically slap against the shore, and thunder rumbles in the distance. I know we've definitely crossed a line at this point, and I don't care. I run my hand through his hair, grasping it and pulling it taut.

August nips and sucks and fucks me with his tongue. It's obvious he knows his way around a woman's body. The tension inside me builds, and I writhe in his grip once again. He grasps my thighs tightly, holding me still, and I whimper. Energy prickles in the air around me and rushes into me. I tug harder on his hair. I need him inside me.

"Please, I need. . . I need. . ." I can't find the words. He shakes his head twice in response and doubles down. I'm getting so close. I start to pant.

"There's so much." I squeeze my eyes shut, and he slows down, not letting me get there.

"Say my name." He growls into my thigh and nips my clit.

"August." I pant his name, and he rewards me, sliding a finger inside me.

"Are you. . .?" His brows furrow, and the air around me ignites with magic. I pull in as much as I can while he moves in and out of me and licks my clit.

The first wave of my orgasm rips through me, and a pulse of pure magic bursts from me in all directions. August sits up, his eyes wide, but he doesn't stop with his hands as I continue to ride my orgasm out.

The last quakes subside and he stands, fingers still inside me. He holds my gaze as he slowly slides them out.

We sit in silence for a moment, listening to the waves and the distant thunder. As my breath returns to normal and my mind settles, it occurs to me why he was so good at it. He enjoyed it. I pulled so much energy while he was pleasuring me. That fluttering in my stomach returns, and I turn to find him studying me intently.

"You weren't lying at the House of Cards," he says. He looks bothered.

"What?" I ask, feeling a little embarrassed. I pull my bodysuit back into place. We are outside, where anyone could see us.

"You said you were a maiden. I thought you were lying."

"I was lying." I glance down his torso to the bulge in his pants. If Luc starts pulling from me again, I'd happily climb on top of this man. "I just haven't in a while."

"Oh," he says. He's awfully stiff for someone who just drove me expertly to the edge of pure ecstasy and satisfaction—twice. "Well, that's good."

"I'm full. He's not pulling as much now. Do you think they're almost done?"

August pulls his shirt back on and helps me off the table. My legs wobble, and I stumble in the sand.

"I should think so." He offers his arm, and I take it. "He's already pulled a dangerous amount of power from you. He should know better," he says with a tone of resentment.

A high-pitched scream rings out from the West. August's eyes scan the horizon. "There!" I point to the top of the slope, where something glides into view.

"Shit," August whispers. "Stay behind me."

At the top of the hill stands a towering frygt. This demon-like creature has horns that extend several feet into the air. His eyes are ablaze, and a small sphere of fire hovers between his horns.

"Give me the girl, or die," he says. He does not shout, but this voice carries all around us in that same garbled, unearthly voice. A chill runs up my spine, and I feel sick. We don't have any weapons.

"August," I whisper, grasping the back of his shirt.

"Come and get her," August growls, and a line of fire erupts between us and the frygt.

The frygt laughs, unruffled. "You'll have to do better than that." He glides through the fire unfazed and raises one of his hands in some sort of signal. Behind him, five man-sized scorpions dash down the slope towards us. They're clearly abominations, with their ruby-red eyes glinting in the firelight.

The fire between the frygt's horns glows brighter and hums loudly, intensifying. A beam of white-hot flames shoots out, skimming the yard wherever he turns his head, leaving scorch marks in the grass. The beam approaches us, and I throw up a shield reflexively.

"No!" August yells, throwing up his shield. "You need to save your power." My power; I haven't even thought to check it. I quickly pull into myself and check. Luc has already drained over half of my well again.

"He's still pulling, August. I'm half empty." He looks at me, real fear in his eyes. The scorpions flank our sides and close in. August torches two of them. Their screams are shrill and ear-splitting as they thrash and roll on the ground.

One to my left strikes at me with its tail, but August catches it. He grasps the tail with his right hand and pushes a shield with his left, ripping the scorpion from its tail. It lands several feet away and twitches a few times before going still; two left.

August discards the tail after ripping the twelve-inch stinger off of it. Darkness spills from me. I'm losing control.

"Hurry," I call to August. He blasts the remaining two scorpions and runs toward the frygt, who seems wholly concentrated on me. His eyes blaze brighter, and I can't look away. The sneer on his face is pure hatred. He lifts his arm, and I levitate into the air. My heart thunders in my chest and I try to move, I try to breathe and I can't. I can only watch.

The smile on his face spreads so wide it looks like he's cracked, his razor-sharp teeth glinting in the firelight. Darkness creeps into my vision just as August leaps through the wall of flames and stabs the frygt in the neck with the stinger. My stomach plunges as I'm dropped slightly, but the frygt regains control.

August pivots behind the frygt and stabs it again and again, and kicks him in the back of the knees, knocking him down. Before the frygt can react, he grabs both of his horns and twists, pulling straight up. The frygt yells in anguish and shoots a beam of flames out wildly across the sky.

The stab wounds around the neck stretch, and with a sickening wet crack, the head comes clean off. My stomach plummets as if I've stepped over a cliff. I fall through open air. I scream, and August throws out a shield, catching me before I strike the ground. He lowers me down slowly as he runs to me.

"There may be more," he says.

My head is light, and the world around us spins. I grab August's forearm. "Something's wrong," I say. My voice sounds distant, and something warm trickles from my nose. I wipe instinctively across it, and a red smear stains the back of my hand.

It feels as if someone has dropped me into the frozen North Sea, and yet I start to sweat. August grabs the sides of my face and looks into both of my eyes, panic flooding his gaze.

"I can't. . ." I can't finish the sentence. It takes too much effort, and I feel like I'm falling into a deep, cold sleep. My eyes are heavy. Something is wrong. Something is very wrong.

"Fuck," August says, and my knees give out. I fall forward into his arms. "Gods dammit, Luc," he growls. He scoops me up, and I can't keep my eyes open anymore. I think I'm dying.

"Hang on, Bronwyn. You're going to be okay." I cling to his voice.

A shrill whistle cuts through the air and makes me flinch. "Stay with me." The thunderous sound of hoof beats approaching is the last thing I hear before everything fades to black.