Chapter 17

17

S ofia's knees weakened. Kitty's warmth pressed against her calf, but it wasn't quite enough to keep her on her feet. She sank onto the couch.

"How?" Sofia had no voice. She cleared her throat and asked again. "How?"

Aleia came to kneel on the floor in front of her. Her face was still stark. "I couldn't see that. Just the moment right before. You're gasping your last breath, surrounded by sand. It's very strange. I didn't see after that, though."

"Oh my gods." Sofia gripped the couch cushions.

"They capture you during the battle. It's important to them. They get power from destroying the village itself, but more so from the deaths of the Mytheans who live there. It's a dark magic. The energy of your life fuels them, and you're the most powerful Mythean in Bruxa's Eye."

Sofia tried to control her breathing. This wasn't set in stone. It couldn't be.

But fate wouldn't be denied. She was grasping at straws .

Sofia reached for Kitty, sinking her fingers into her soft fur.

Dimly, Sofia realized that Aleia sat next to her and rubbed her shoulder.

"There will be a way out of this," Aleia said.

"You think so?"

"I do," Aleia said, but Sofia could tell she was lying through her teeth. Seers were good liars. They often saw things they knew people shouldn't hear. And Aleia subscribed to the school of better to tell a white lie than hurt someone.

"Would you mind giving me some time alone?" Sofia asked. "I just need to get my thoughts together."

"Sure. I'm headed back to the village. If you need me, you know where to find me."

"Great, thanks."

Aleia left. Sofia stared at the wall.

Her mother had foretold this. Being Protector ended in death. It was the way of things. She'd already lived over four hundred years. Short for a normal Mythean, but longer than her mother and grandmother before her, who'd died recovering tributes.

But she felt as young as any other immortal Mythean—invincible.

And now she would be cut down.

But she didn't have a daughter to whom she could pass on the role of Protector.

It didn't matter though, did it? This was to be the end of her village. The High Witches had been done with them for a while now. There'd be no need for another Protector. And she wouldn't wish this on a daughter anyway .

She sucked in a breath and stood up. She'd face this like she faced everything else thrown her way. She didn't have a choice.

She felt Malcolm's arrival, a warmth that was specific to their connection, and turned to see him, his dark hair windswept and some strange emotion in his eyes. Her heart thudded, trying to beat its way out of her chest.

He always did that to her. She was starting to think there was no escape from it.

"What's wrong?" he asked. He strode to her, then grasped her upper arms and stared into her eyes. "Tell me."

"Nothing." She didn't want to tell him. She didn't want him to look at her like her doom was imminent. Her death might come, but she wouldn't bear pitying looks until it did. "Just worried about the upcoming battle."

"We'll manage it."

She tried to take comfort in his certainty. It was a chore, but she forced herself to nod.

"Aurora has found more warriors for the battle?" he asked.

"Yes. More than a dozen. A couple are gods." They really did have a chance with their help. The High Witches were powerful, especially when together, but they weren't gods. "I think she's gotten pretty much everyone she knows."

"Good. Come with me, then. I have something you might like."

"All right." The agreement came immediately. She still hadn't forgiven him and their future was impossible, but she was still halfway to falling in love with him and she didn't want to think about the future right now. If he wanted to take her mind off of it, she would let him .

She wrapped her arms around his waist and called to Kitty. Once the warm little body was pressed against her leg, Malcolm aetherwalked them away.

When she opened her eyes, she stood in a small round room. A sitting room of some sort, with beautiful furniture and a dozen windows. The walls were almost entirely glass, with strips of wood between each window. Mountains stretched in all directions. The orange globe of the sun was approaching the mountain ridges.

"Are we in your home?"

"Yes. I had this room built for you. Not that I ever expected to see you again. But sunsets have always reminded me of you. I like to come up here sometimes."

Tears pricked at her eyes. He remembered. That night at Dartmoor when she'd accompanied him to pay his respects to his mother had been the night she'd fallen in love with him. What could their life have been if he hadn't made the choices he had?

She forced the thought away. She wouldn't spend the last days of her life mourning the past. She'd embrace what little future she had left until fate stole it from her. That included Malcolm.

If she had one night left, she wanted it to be with him.

His hand cupped her cheek. "You're sad."

"It's just worry over my village." She looked out at the mountains that were now washed in orange light. "Could we just talk? Distract me?"

"Anything." He walked to a sideboard and picked up a decanter full of golden whisky and tilted it toward her inquiringly.

"Yes, please," she said gratefully .

Kitty curled up on a chair and Sofia sank onto one of the plush sofas. The golden light of the sunset bathed the room in a soothing glow. When Malcolm brought her the tumbler of whisky, she took it gratefully and sipped. The burn down her throat made her feel alive.

Malcolm sat next to her and draped an arm over her shoulder, pulling her close. She stiffened out of instinct, then relaxed into him. Why not enjoy being with him during the few days she had left? He might have taken the dagger and started all of this, but he'd never meant to get her into this mess. Of course he'd thought they could handle the High Witches. She'd thought that.

Ugh. She needed to think about something else.

She glanced up at Malcolm. His gaze was grave as he watched the sunset. She didn't know where he'd gone today, and she didn't want to ask. Judging by the furrow of his brow and the worry in his eyes, it hadn't gone well. She didn't want more bad news.

She wanted a distraction, and talking wasn't going to do it.

Sofia set the whisky glass on the floor and climbed onto his lap, straddling his thick thighs. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Kitty slink out of the room.

Fate, he was big. She gripped his shoulder and met his gaze.

"What are you doing?" His voice was rough.

"Distracting myself." She pressed her mouth to the side of his neck, dragging her tongue along the delicious expanse. His cock hardened beneath her as she bit his neck. Unable to wait, she climbed off his lap to kneel before him. Her hands found the buttons of his trousers and began to undo them .

He hissed in a breath. "Are you sure—"

She pressed a hand over his mouth. She'd had a hard day, but she didn't need his coddling. What she needed was a distraction, and his thick, beautiful erection was just what it was going to be. She hadn't really been able to spend much time on him before, and fates, how she wanted to.

With fumbling hands, she tugged his trousers and underwear down around his calves. His thick cock sprang free, thick and long. It was beautiful, with a tracing of veins and a pearl of fluid at the tip.

"You want this?" he growled.

She glanced up to see him watching her, desire and some darker emotion on his face. He looked at her like she held the last cup of water in the desert. Like he'd die if she didn't put her mouth on him.

It made her sex clench.

"Yes," she said.

He gripped his cock in his big hand. Veins stood out on the back of his palm, so masculine that she shivered. Those big, blunt fingers had been inside of her.

"Then take it," he said, and tilted the shaft toward her.

A groan tore from his throat as she darted her tongue out and lapped up the drop of fluid. Another lick to the tip.

His head dropped back on the couch and she thought she heard him say something like fates, just once but she was too busy with his taste.

Musky and dark, it was delicious. It made her breasts throb and her pussy ache. Wanting more, she took the crown into her mouth.

A groan tore from his throat. His hand threaded through her hair, squeezing gently. It was so dirty, the way he held her head and fed her his cock. The idea made her moan around his shaft.

He groaned.

He was too big to take entirely into her mouth, so she nudged his hand away with her own and gripped him in her fist. His shaft was so big that her hand barely fit around.

"Fuck, that's good, Sofia," he rasped.

She glanced up to see him watching her, his eyes bright and his cheeks flushed. His chest heaved. Fates, he was handsome. She raised a hand and waved it over his chest, making his shirt disappear.

The broad expanse of his chest and his ridged abdomen were enough to make her whimper. She couldn't even look at the muscles that roped his arms or the tattoo that wrapped around his shoulder without wanting to run her hands over him. Fates, she wanted to touch all of him. Trace his hard pecs and the swell of his bicep, the curve of his throat and his strong hands.

So many nice things to touch, but she returned to his shaft, the part that she most wanted to worship, taking him deeper. She pumped her fist in tandem, reveling in the silken steel beneath her palm. He shuddered, his fist tightening in her hair. The slight tug of pain sent a wave of dark pleasure through her.

With a gentle hand, she cupped his balls.

"Yes," he groaned.

She took him deeper into her mouth, straining to accept as much of him as she could. The head of his cock bumped the back of her throat. His thighs shook and she could tell that he was fighting not to thrust up into her mouth .

A soft touch at her cheek made her glance up. He cupped the side of her face and gripped her hair, cradling her as if he treasured her. The dark need in his gaze fought with tenderness.

"So bloody beautiful," he breathed.

Her heart fluttered and she returned to his cock. She sucked hard, wanting to taste his come on her tongue.

"Sofia!"

She picked up her pace, squeezing his shaft hard and taking him as deeply into her mouth as she could. He was far too big to take all the way into her mouth, but even that excited her. She was shaking with need. From just this?

But with him, it was different. The way he responded to her… His hands and the sounds he made, the way his hips fought not to thrust.

"I'm going to come," he ground out, tugging lightly at her hair to remove her.

She fought him, sucking the head of his cock deep while stroking the shaft with her tongue.

"Gods," he growled. "If you want it, I'll give it to you."

Yes. Give it to me.

She swallowed him as deeply as she could.

He stiffened, his back arching off the couch as his cock throbbed in her mouth. She felt it swell even more and his balls tighten up. His hips jerked. If he were inside of her, he'd be pounding into her, but she knew he didn't want to hurt her.

With a roar, he began to come, filling her mouth with his seed.

Pleasure sparked along every nerve ending in Malcolm's body. His cock throbbed, shooting jets of come into Sofia's hot little mouth. The way she sucked and worked his cock made him shudder violently as the orgasm tore through him.

The sight of her watching him, her pretty pink lips stretched around his thick shaft, had been what sent him over the edge. Now, with her silky tongue lapping up the last of his spend, he wasn't sure if he could bear to pull away from her.

When the orgasm faded, he collapsed back on the couch, his chest heaving. His entire body tingled as he pulled Sofia up onto his lap. She curled up, her face near his.

"Thank you." The words barely had any sound, he was so out of breath.

"I wanted to."

He knew she had. It'd been so bloody sexy, the way she'd devoured him. And the sounds she'd made… The moans that had vibrated his cock and sent pleasure shooting up his spine. Gods, how he wanted to eat her pussy while she sucked him off.

Her breath was sweet on his face and he leaned over to kiss her, tasting his own saltiness on her lips. He pulled away and set her aside on the couch, then stood and tugged his trousers up.

Without asking, he reached down and picked her up.

"Whoa!"

"I want you in my bed," he said. He didn't know what the future held. After talking to Corrier, he knew he couldn't be with her. Not after tonight and all that had happened. When he'd left Corrier's, he'd told himself he wouldn't be like this with her again. No more intimacy. No more sex. That he'd make a clean break to try to protect her.

He'd thought he could handle the High Witches, and he'd been wrong. He'd wanted to be with her again so badly that he'd fooled himself into thinking he could avoid fate. But he couldn't, he'd realized. Their involvement would lead to tragedy. Likely one of their deaths. He didn't mind so much if it were his own—at this point, he'd risk his own life if it meant being with Sofia. But he couldn't bear it if something happened to her.

So he'd have one more night. They'd have one more night. And then they would part.

Warmth flowed through him when she wrapped her arms around his neck. Not wanting to waste the time walking across the castle, he aetherwalked them to his bed and laid her upon it. He flicked on the bedside light so that it cast a golden glow over her.

She was so slight that it was easy to push her toward the middle of the bed and then climb in after her. He pulled her into a sitting position and tugged gently at her blouse.

"I saw you the other night, but not as much as I wanted to. It was too dark." He wanted to worship her. To kiss every inch and memorize her for the future. To hold these memories close on a future lonely night.

Sofia raised her arms and he pulled the sweater over her head. Her full breasts were cupped in ivory lace, the dusky rose of her nipples showing through. He crouched over her like some great beast and gripped her ribs, lifting her so that he could take one of the small peaks into his mouth .

She fisted her hands in his hair and cried out as he sucked. The lace was rough against his tongue but her skin was sweet. The bud of her nipple hardened against his tongue and he bit down.

"Yes," she gasped.

"You like a little pain?" he asked.

"So far, I like everything with you."

Gods, how he wished they had time for everything. He thrust the thought away and turned his attention to her other nipple, sucking and biting until it too poked through the fabric.

Malcolm leaned back to look at her, at the way her skin flushed and her breasts swelled over the top of her bra. She was small, but so perfectly formed. Her dark eyes were steady on him as his gaze roved over her, from her trim waist and the sexy little swell of her belly to her full lips and dark, flowing hair.

"I've never seen anyone as lovely as you," he said.

She was a bloody dream come true. For the last four centuries, he'd fantasized about her, dreaming of what she'd look like without her clothes. He'd never seen her this way, but his imagination had been vivid. She'd been beautiful in his mind—beautiful enough that he'd spilled his seed countless times against the sheets—but those imaginings were nothing compared to the real thing. The way her skin was smooth as silk and her curves rounded and lush.

He reached around her back and unclipped her bra. Her breasts spilled free, full and sweet in the dim light. He groaned and pressed her back onto the bed, then loomed over her and kissed the side of her neck .

"I want to kiss every inch of you," he said against her throat.

"Do," she whispered.

He set to work—the most divine work he'd ever done—and ran his tongue along her slender neck. She shivered, gripping his biceps. Tiny goose bumps formed on her delicate shoulders as he ran his lips along the smooth skin. Her breasts were soft and smooth. Though he could have spent hours kissing them, he craved the taste of her pussy on his tongue. He wanted to tear her trousers off and bury his face in her.

Savor her. This would be the last time. He had to enjoy it. To burn the memory into his brain. So he slowed himself, tracing kisses and licks down her stomach. Her hands came up to grip his hair as he laved circles around her belly button.

When her back arched, he slipped his arm beneath her, supporting her and marveling at how much smaller she was than he. Finally, the temptation became too much. He knelt up and undid the button of her jeans. His hands trembled as he pulled the zipper down.

He tugged off her boots, then her jeans, leaving only her white underwear. White cotton with a border of lace. Her swollen sex pushed against the thin fabric, soaking it so that he could see the pink of her flesh through the fabric.

"Beautiful," he growled. His cock pulsed and pressed hard against his jeans.

Malcolm reached down and splayed his hand over her upper thigh, brushing his thumb over her core. Her hips jerked and he looked up to see her panting, her skin damp and her eyes wild. His kisses had made her mad for him, he could see it in her eyes and the way her hands gripped the comforter.

She was trembling, desperate for him to touch her. Her body vibrated with it.

"Shhh," he soothed. "I'll give you what you need."

His gaze returned to his hand, so big and rough against the pale fabric and her delicate sex. So badly, he wanted to tear the cloth from her and devour her. He shook with it, but forced it away. Though he wanted to gorge himself on her, he had to start slowly.

He dipped his thumb under the elastic between her legs, drawing it over the soft curls and down to the silken flesh that dampened her panties. She was wet and hot, the softest thing he'd ever felt.

She cried out, her back arching and her breasts trembling. He reached up to press his other hand against her chest and throat, making a loose circle around her neck, as if collaring her. He recalled doing the same the other night, unable to help himself.

He wanted to own her. To ensure she'd be with him forever.

It was impossible, but at least here, he could have the illusion that she was entirely his.

His gaze was drawn back down to her center. She trembled as he dragged his thumb through her slick folds, dipping slightly into her entrance and then rising to find her clitoris. He made tight circles, watching and listening to see what she liked best.

When Sofia started moving her hips against his hand, he could wait no longer .

"I have to have you," he groaned. He pulled her panties off and then spread her knees, his gaze riveted to her glistening pink pussy. Her labia unfurled like petals, her little clitoris revealed.

He gripped her ass in his hands and fell upon her, pressing his open mouth to her sex and plunging his tongue into her.

"Malcolm!" Her hands gripped his hair and her hips jerked.

Gods, she tasted perfect. He devoured her, lapping at her sex and thrusting his tongue into her heat. He knew he should focus on her clitoris, on the things that would make her come, but he was insatiably greedy. His hips ground against the bed as he lost himself in her. His face and neck were wet, his head full of her scent.

She shivered against him, pressing her pussy up against his mouth for more.

"Malcolm!"

The desperation in her voice pulled him out of his haze. His woman needed. He shifted to lave her clitoris, making small circles on the little bud.

"Yes, that's it, please," she gasped and gripped his hair.

He released her ass with one hand and pressed two fingers inside of her. She was so slick that she accepted him easily, a beautiful slide into pleasure. He thrust slowly as he licked her clitoris, listening to her moans and speeding up when she sounded close.

When he sucked her clitoris into his mouth, she screamed, gripping his hair and pulling his mouth against her. His cock grew unbearably hard at the feel of her forcing him against her pussy .

Inner muscles clenched around his fingers as she came, making him desperate to sink his cock into her.

The moment her orgasm ended, he used magic to remove his clothes and then settled over her. She spread her thighs to accept him. The acceptance, the quick willingness and trust, thawed something inside of him. Her pussy pressed wet and hot against his cock, a delicious brand.

He met her gaze. She blinked up at him, her chest heaving. "Now, Malcolm. Inside me, please."

He grasped her wrists and raised them above her head, as if he could keep her here forever, then reached down to adjust himself. His teeth clenched when he felt the heat of her entrance kiss the head of his cock.

"Yes," she breathed, and tilted her head back, closing her eyes.

"No," he growled. "Look at me. I want to see you."

She glanced back at him and held his gaze with her own as he pressed his cock into her channel. His whole body tightened as she accepted him. Gods, the pleasure was blinding.

Aftershocks of orgasm fluttered through Sofia as Malcolm's cock filled her. He was almost too big for her, pressing inexorably inside, but the pleasure still radiating through her made it easier to take him. She shifted, moaning at the stretching fullness as her muscles fluttered around him.

He loomed over her, his whole body huge and taught with muscle. His chest and biceps bulged as he held himself over her. When she glanced down to see his thick shaft disappearing inside of her, she could see the ridges of his abdomen and the neat black hair at his pubic bone.

She raised her gaze to his, remembering his command to look at him. His eyes were hot and desperate, his lips swollen and damp from her pussy, which he'd licked like he couldn't get enough.

Gods, he was the most handsome man she'd ever seen.

Sofia cried out when his thumb started to make circles on her clitoris. His other hand threaded through hers near her head.

"I want to feel you come around me," he said as his thumb drove her crazy. "I want to feel your little pussy clench on my cock."

She tried to speak, but he pressed his cock deeper, slowly. He shuddered, clearly resisting the desire to pound into her. When his thumb picked up pace, she felt another orgasm begin to coil within her.

"I'm close," she breathed as the tension increased, spiraling tight. She filled her gaze with the sight of his face and straining chest, imagined what his cock must look like thrusting into her, thick and slick with her juices, sinking into her soft flesh.

The visual was enough to push her over the edge, into a roaring climax that tore through her. As her pussy spasmed, Malcolm began to thrust, pushing her pleasure higher and harder. It felt as if every nerve ending inside her was alight, ten times as sensitive.

She could feel the ridge of his cockhead, every inch of every thrust. She writhed beneath him, out of her mind, but he never stopped stroking her, never stopped thrusting .

Finally, it faded enough that she could make eye contact again. Her breath caught at the look in his eyes. As if she were everything in the world that mattered to him.

"I want this to last forever," he ground out. "But I'm—so close."

She shuddered as he picked up his pace, thrusting harder and faster. His hand faltered on her clitoris and he gripped her hip, holding her steady. She didn't need any more sensation to come. Just the sight of him, his jaw clenched and his eyes fierce, every muscle tensed and bulging, was enough to send her over the edge again. The orgasm tore through her, this one harder than the last.

"Ah, gods, I can feel you." His brow furrowed as his fingertips bit into her ass and his hips lost their grace.

Malcolm shuddered and roared through clenched teeth as the orgasm wracked him. His cock swelled and pulsed as his seed shot forth, propelling her orgasm to the point that her vision faded and pleasure overwhelmed her.

Her head whirled as she came back to earth. Malcolm shook above her, his shoulders and chest heaving. He gently disengaged and collapsed beside her, then pulled her to him.

She curled into his side, exhausted and sated. At the edge of her mind, her impending death loomed. She'd accepted it, but in the meantime, she would enjoy every second with Malcolm. She wouldn't tell him, she'd just take what goodness she could get with him before it was all over. They had at least two days left and she planned to enjoy them.