Lost Wanderer Awakened - Book One of the Airendell Chronicles (53 page)

“You are never vain Luca,” she assures
him.

“I’m not going to ask you to tell me about
any of that which bothers you so deeply, but I desperately want you
know, it is not something that offends me, or makes me think less
of you. It is just something that was. I am sad that it hurts you,
though,” Luca assures her. After a minute of silence between them
he says, “I hesitate to bring this up, but since we are clearing
the air so to speak, I feel like I should admit that it does hurt
me that you didn’t seem to think you could trust me to know this
and still love you,” he confesses.

She pulls closer to him, and says, “I am
sorry, I think that my reluctance to reveal those things to you is
born of my poor opinion of myself and is in no way a reflection of
my opinion of you, if that makes any sense,” she says.

“It makes sense, but it still makes me sad.
Whether you were motivated to keep this secret because of your
opinion of yourself or because of your opinion of me, either way,
it is a wretched thing.” He pulls her close and kisses her gently
and asserts, “It is very heartbreaking if you ever feel you have to
hold part of yourself back from me.”

“Luca, I get that, I honestly do love. I
won’t make that mistake again,” she hesitates, and then decides to
get it all out there. “But didn’t you do exactly the same thing?
You have been struggling with the allure my blood scent has for
you. I know this, I can often sense it. You tense up; there is a
certain shudder that goes through your body, a degree of detachment
I feel in you at times. I understand what motivates it, so why hide
it. Why not let me try to help, at least let me know what you are
going through?”

He chuckles poignantly, “It’s almost absurd
isn’t it? That we have both held back things that we fear might
hurt the other, when in truth, it is the holding back that causes
the other pain?”

She laughs diffidently, “Yes, I suppose it
is. That was pretty dumb of both of us, wasn’t it? I propose we
stop being so foolish, what do you think?”

“I agree whole heartedly,” he laughs. “But
now you should sleep, your heart rate is up, how is the head
feeling?”

“Pretty bad,” she admits. “A lot of what
Breena was talking about tonight is new information; well you know
what I mean, new this time.” She laughs at the absurdness that is
her cycle of lives.

Then she gets serious, “It is a lot to take
in and I suspect I have so much more I need to learn, and learn
quickly. Tonight I was convinced that whatever, whoever is stalking
me was after you. And I have been thinking about this tonight lying
here listening to you and Breena. What if my physical reaction, the
horrible headaches and the intense physical weakness, when I learn
new information about myself is some mechanism of whomever,
whatever is coming at me? Does that make any sense at all?”

“Yes it does. And in light of what Breena
shared tonight, I can see the motivation. If this ‘enemy’ is trying
to neutralize you why not make you sick every time you might learn
anything that might empower you? Do you think I am just reaching?”
he asks uncertainly.

“No, no! Not at all! I think you may really
have something there. Think about it, healing spells do not help
with my headaches, only sleep does. Maybe when I am sleeping I am
somehow protected from the ‘enemy’? And consider this; our healing
spells do not heal injuries that are caused directly by magic.” She
pauses a moment to consider it, then says, “It fits doesn’t
it?”

“It certainly does!” he asserts. “Remember
when I said you have disappeared at times? When you come back you
have no idea where you have been? What if you do that in your
sleep? Well, maybe not asleep exactly, but perhaps in some state
where the ‘enemy’ isn’t stifling your mission, sense of duty, or
rather awareness of that duty? What if some force that is on your
side, like the Elves, for instance, is directing you at those
times? More likely it is just your own strength and wisdom guiding
you then, your ascended being”

Morna is quietly considering all of this.
When Luca says, “Maybe, I am just reaching here…” he trails
off.

“No, no I don’t think so… you may have
something there. You’ve mentioned before that I seem to have a
duality to my nature or rather my consciousness since I have come
out of the coma. It could fit. We just need more information before
we can know for sure. We need to speak to Ari and Almeda. Should we
wait until they come to check on me or could you contact them
early?” Morna asks.

“I am thinking I should contact them early,
what if you are attacked again? What if those times when you have
nearly harmed yourself were a result of this unknown ‘enemy’
attacking you? You were so forlorn, so hopeless earlier tonight, so
very convinced that I would reject you, or be taken from you. If an
attack can create that kind of state in you now, when you have
become so much stronger than you were in the early days after the
crash, think of how devastating those attacks could have been when
you had no idea who you really are.”

Morna shudders, “Too bad we can’t just call
them on the phone.” Then she giggles at the thought. “That would be
a lot easier than weaving a spell. I am glad that you are capable
of weaving a finding spell, I certainly don’t remember how,” she
admits.

Luca looks at Morna oddly, then says, “Have
you noticed, the only magic your remember how to do is defensive
and offensive in nature. And you don’t actually have to weave the
spells. Maybe this is because of your position as Protector of the
Talismans and Gateways or your magical lineage?”

Morna concedes, “That certainly sounds
logical to me.” Then she shrugs, she’s comfortable in her ability
to protect herself and others from threats she recognizes. It is
the other forms of magic and other things that she doesn’t
understand yet that concern her. “I think that weaving a finding
spell could be helpful for offense and defense too. You will need
to teach it to me very soon. When will you weave the finding
spell?” she asks somewhat urgently.

“Morna, what is troubling you? What are you
worried about?” Luca asks softly.

“Luca, I am convinced this ‘enemy’ was after
you tonight. I can’t fight what I can’t identify. And you may have
problems protecting yourself from something you don’t recognize as
a threat. Are you following me?” she asks.

“So this urgency, this fear that I detect, it
is for me?” he inquires.

“Yes, sorry. It’s not that I am not confident
in your abilities. I just don’t understand what we are up against,”
she confides.

“No offense taken love, I understand,
probably much more than you realize. I have been trying to protect
you from things I don’t understand for centuries,” he admits
reluctantly. “Speaking of things that I do not understand; what do
you make of that woman’s voice that called out to you tonight?”

Morna pulls back to look at him, not sure
what he means. He cups her face and says, “Baby, I heard a woman’s
voice, I heard it in your thoughts. She said; ‘Hang on, Sister!
Morna you are strong enough to overcome this!’ Obviously it wasn’t
Breena, she was asleep in the sitting room. Do you have other
sisters?”

“I am not sure. If Breena is right and Neill
isn’t my father, perhaps my father had a daughter with someone
else.” Morna looks at Luca and says, “I can’t understand why I
never told you about my father, about the talismans. Can you
forgive that?”

“Of course, baby knowing you, you just didn’t
think it was that important. It was just part of who you are.
Besides, you keeping the fact that you are the Talismans a secret
is part of your duty as the First Protector. I understand that with
all of your duties, I may never be privy to all of your secrets.”
Luca kisses the top of her head. “I can accept that, just don’t
hide things from me that hurt you, baby. I can‘t protect you if you
do that. Don‘t keep things from me because you think I won‘t accept
them or won‘t be able to forgive you, that‘s just not the
case.”

Morna is so moved by his admission that she
moves over on top of him to hold him closer to her. She wants to
shield him from the unknown. She wants him to know that she
understands. Mostly, she just wants to not feel at loose ends. Luca
understands her need, because he shares it. He holds her close to
his body, trying to share some small measure of comfort, of
strength, he kisses her.

One kiss leads to another, and another. This
leads to caresses. Each caress starts a tiny fire, all the tiny
fires come together to create a raging conflagration. By unspoken,
but mutual agreement they come together in great passion. Their
separate needs, identical in source and intensity, pushing them to
seek solace in what they know so well, their passion for each
other.

In their urgency to come together they both
are thwarted by the presence of his A shirt and boxers on her body.
She is struggling frantically to pull the shirt over her head, when
he becomes exasperated and shreds the offending fabric. He pulls
himself up short, remembering when she told him about another man
tearing an article of her clothing from her body, and the pain and
humiliation that followed.

She’s slightly startled by his impatience,
then giggles and says, “Well, do you plan spare the offending
boxers?” Her laughter intensifies when he takes her cue and
destroys them as well. Then they lose themselves in the wild
abandon they know so well that is their loving.

He feverishly kisses her eager mouth. Her
audacious tongue traces the contours of his icy, unyielding lips.
Her need drives her to want to break past those strong lips and
plunder his mouth like they could before his change. He does the
same to her lips. She moans loudly at the intense cold, and the
burn that replaces it. When the mild prickly, tingly sensation sets
in she wants more.

She draws his face down her body to her
breasts, where she turns first her left and then her right breast
toward his eager mouth. She holds his head securely, desperate that
he doesn’t stop what he is doing. The sensations are too delicious.
His icy tongue lashes the responsive peaks. She is writhing in deep
ecstasy at the feelings that follow each flicker and swirl of his
glacial tongue. She craves more with an intensity she has never
experienced before.

She uses her hands to try to draw him lower.
He resists, fearing that he might cause her pain. She lifts his
head so that he will look at her, see her need, and understand her
urgency. “Please, please,” she whispers. He complies readily. She
opens up to him widely, eager to receive his touch that will incite
such delicious sensations. He trails his tongue down her soft
tummy, tracing languid patterns. Alternating his tongue and lips,
exposing her to a kaleidoscope of burn and chill.

His powerful hands knead her breasts and move
slowly, painstakingly down, ever down toward the very center of her
need. He gently exposes the tenderest inner flesh, tracing the tiny
folds of her labia with his tongue. Teasing the rock hard button
that is her clitoris, working her into a frenzy. She moans deep in
her throat, thrilling to the delicious burn and sting he ignites.
Her fingers entwine in his hair, drawing ever tighter as the
tension in her body continues to build, until it nearly seems
unbearable. Yet she is greedy for more, much more.

His icy hard tongue dips below her erect nub,
to the engorged, glistening slit below. He traces around this
entrance slowly, delaying, denying himself the reward knows await
him there. She tenses waiting, steeling herself for the onslaught
of sensations. He suddenly flicks his tongue back to the tiny,
rigid button, then uses his cold, unyielding lips to manipulate the
button until she writhing upward seeking her ultimate release. He
resumes laving her clit with hard tongue, and again, the icy tongue
dips lower, this time slipping into the slit.

Her climax is instantaneous, and from her
perspective, earth shattering, causing her to writhe wildly against
his mouth and move her thighs to his shoulders, to trap him in
place. He responds to her desperate need by actually sucking her
tender flesh into his mouth, and gently gnashing the sweet flesh
between his sharp, venomous teeth. She goes rigid for several
seconds, and then shakes uncontrollably, yet she never releases him
from the grip she has on him with her thighs. She is desperate for
him to continue. The burn is intense, bright, and searing, not only
where she was exposed to his mouth, but deep within her entire
body. Her very blood has been ignited. She sighs in contentment,
and her body relaxes, its goal achieved.

And then her body starts to shudder violently
as the venom moves through her bloodstream. He cries out in anguish
over what he has done, he scoops her up into his arms and takes her
to the bathroom. He’s holding her violently trembling body close to
his as he starts the shower. Without waiting for the water to warm
up he carries her into the stall. He holds her in front of the
spraying water. Working efficiently, he washes all traces of his
venom from her body. Her shaking body is calming slightly; the
violent tremors are replaced by small shudders. The burn on the
surface of her skin has been replaced by a numb sensation, but her
blood still sings with white hot heat and deep pain, not a
crippling pain, but a metamorphic pain. She turns to face him and
holds onto him desperately for a very long time.

Finally, she lifts her face from his hard,
cold chest and looks into his face. What she sees there is exactly
what she feared she would. He is angry with himself for he has
done, and frustrated with her for urging him to do it. She
understands, but she certainly isn’t sorry for what they did
together. She tries to reach up and kiss his mouth, but he stays
her movement. When he sees the pain on her face his rejection
causes. He holds her tighter and then kisses her on the forehead,
then relents entirely and gently kisses her lips. “I love you Luca,
it will be okay,” she whispers softly.