Winded (7 page)

Over the edge of her celestial bower, Vetiver could see her
island, so far below them, floating like vibrant green jasper in a sea of churning
gray water. There were few cars on the mainland bridge. It wouldn’t be long
now…

Boreas shared the secrets of his life with her. She told him
of her life on the island, of the stigma of being an outcast, of the rich pride
she felt despite the hardship and work of protecting her home and its oblivious
inhabitants.

He told her that she could be like him. That it was
dangerous. But that it was possible. His seed was the key. It would either
poison her, kill her…or transform her into a new and powerful being. A Shikar.

Lying behind her, Boreas trailed his fingers over the curve
of her hip. “You would make a magnificent warrior. I only wonder what Caste you
would be reborn into.”

Vetiver shivered. “How many are there?”

His palm slid over her belly. “Four major. I am a Foil
Caste, master of blade.” He showed her, a
snicking
sound the only
warning as a glowing, white-blue blade shot out of his index finger. She
swallowed a gasp. The blade disappeared just as quickly, sliding back into his
digit with a whisper. “But there are a great many numbers of minor abilities.
For example, I am one of few who can manipulate wind.”

“Will you care what Caste I become?” she fretted. “Are there
prejudices between the different types?”

He chuckled. “There are no prejudices. And I care only that
your Caste does not override your natural magical abilities. Though from what
I’ve learned, the humans who have transformed thus far do not really change too
much in that regard.”

“Change me now,” she whispered. “Let’s fight the Daemons
together and run them from my island.”

Boreas’ hands stilled on her. “I will not risk it. I only
know that the few successes we’ve had in transforming human women involved the
presence of a Traveler Caste. I will not lose you because I am too eager to claim
you. And I want you to have more time to decide.”

“I don’t need time—”

“You cannot sway me. We will wait until you are safe with
me, in my world, with my people, before we attempt such dangerous magic.” He
paused. “And you can always choose to stay a human.”

Vetiver, however, understood that she had no reason to stay
as she was now. Everything had changed for her, in one night her world was
turned upside down and inside out. Vetiver figured, why not go that extra mile
and truly become his partner? She would become a Shikar. She would fight with
Boreas and his people. It was as he’d said; the war was still the same. It was
only the battleground that would change.

She would change with it and be stronger for it.

His mouth was at her ear now, gently feathering soft kisses
against the shell of her ear. “Do you think you could ever love me, Vetiver
Device?”

Vetiver froze.

“I knew the moment you spoke to my Winds that you would be
mine. But your heart is your own. To gift to whom you will.” He squeezed her
upper arm in his hand, which had grown hot, fevered. “I would hope you gift it
to me, someday.”

She swallowed, speechless.

“I vow to keep it safe.” His sweet words were soft in her
ear. A breath, no more. “I would treasure it. Love me, give me your heart, your
devotion, and I would be your slave. Ask for the moon, I will see that you have
it. All that I am will belong to you. Everything I have to offer, you need but
ask. If you would only love me, I would never want for anything else.”

Her heart thudded in her chest. He wove a spell over her
with words that she had no wish to silence. But what could she say that would
explain all she felt now? It was too soon to love him, it had to be. But the
thought of telling him anything but “I love you” made her soul hurt most
painfully. So she didn’t say anything.

It was her only defense. It was her last vestige of
independence.

She could give him her body. She could give him her passion.
Her excitement at the prospect of a new life. She could devote that life to
fighting a war at his side. That much was easy—she’d always lived her life in
the service of something greater than herself. But to give her love to this
man—nay, not a
man
but a different
species
of male—seemed
reckless.

Are you not a child of nature, wild and strong?
The
air practically slapped her in the face with the question. And the accusation,
Did
you not heed your guardian, who gave you a glimpse of what the future could
bring if you would but trust in your destiny? If you do not believe this is the
hand of fate at work between you, what do you believe?

She believed in herself. Change was inevitable, but so much
of it at once was overwhelming and difficult to absorb. It was too fast.

She didn’t like the taste of her will caving in.

But to love him…

To truly love him…

Now that would be a potent magic.

Vetiver caught her breath when his lips nibbled at her ear,
whispering in his foreign tongue words that sounded like silk in the water,
like blooming flowers. Love. To love Boreas would be as wild and empowering as being
in love with storm and gusty weather. She would not halve her heart by gifting
it to him, but double it by gaining his in return.

He vowed to worship her if she would have him. He had given
her all the power in the world with those words, putting everything he had on
the line. She had given nothing.

She turned to search his gaze. Therein was the answer. He
was not so confident or arrogant as he waited for her to say
something—anything. His feelings were bare and defenseless to her whim. In his
eyes she read the very real truth that, if she wanted, if she were cruel, she
could wound him, crush him, throw him to despair. One word and he would break.

“Do you love me, Boreas?” she murmured, touching the long
line of his jaw. “Can you love a human and a witch?”

“I can love you, Vetiver,” he rasped, grabbing her fingers
and kissing them. “Only you. And I would love you as no human male ever could.”

“What if I wanted to stay human?” she pressed. “Could you
still love me then?”

His gaze darkened, but the tenderness remained. “That would
be your choice.” Then he pressed his forehead to hers and closed his eyes, his
long kohl lashes a curtain against his high, proud cheekbones. “Though I would
someday love to see our babe in your arms, I would love you no less for your
decision. You will always be my witch.”

A lone, diamond-brilliant tear escaped the corner of his
eye. In its shine Vetiver saw an image of the child they might create together
and knew all her reservations were for nothing.

She
could
love him. So easily. Because he saw her for
what she was and instead of shying away, finding her strange or wicked or
worse, he gloried in it. Because she could be herself with him, all the way.
Because he was brave and powerful and beautiful, she could love him. Because he
so clearly already loved her, she loved him already too. And because she was
destined to love him, she’d loved him all her life, long before they’d met.
Waiting for him without even knowing what she was waiting for, or whom.

Because they were meant to be together, she loved him. Two
mighty bloodlines joined. Two hearts made one. It was that easy. And that
incredible.

“I will carry your baby, Boreas,” she said, and kissed his
nose gently. Then, whispering, she told him what she had only just allowed her
own mind to accept. “Ball already told me our firstborn will be a girl.”

His eyes flashed open.

“You’ve seen what he is—he’s been with my family for
generations.” She smiled sheepishly. “I’m not saying he speaks out loud, but he
let me know when I first brought you home that this would happen. I didn’t want
to accept it. That you would father our daughter, the next Device witch. His
future mistress. But when Ball is certain of a thing, it always comes to pass.”

Boreas pressed a hard kiss to her mouth and tangled his
hands in her heavy hair. “I would have you choose me because your heart led
you, not because your Familiar forecasted our union.”

Vetiver giggled and snuggled closer to him, pressing her
breasts to his warm, muscled chest. “The decision is mine. Made before I even
knew the options.” She sighed. “I will love you, Boreas of the Shikar. I will
birth your children. I will be your Shikar wife. But you have to say the words
first.”

He frowned, the question plain on his face.

“Say you love me,” she prompted. “Say it, let me hear it
sing through your voice.”

His handsome features smoothed out. He leaned in, kissed her
mouth, parting her lips with his tongue and wrapping the words around hers,
using his language to seal his vow. She felt the words slide around her mouth,
knotting gently around her tongue, tasting of tender daisy blossoms.

She worked the words around her lips before returning them,
first in his strange language then in her own. “I love you too.” It was the
most powerful spell she’d spoken in all her life.

The result was the magic that trumps all others; true,
destined love and a passion never ending.

Chapter Nine

“Come lie among my clouds.” Boreas swept his arms wide and
silvery white wisps gathered closer. Like a bubble bath in the sky. “Rest your
head.” He gathered for her a pillow of downy mist.

He spread her dark waves of hair across the iridescent
vespers. She was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. Her exotic eyes,
like no other human’s, flickered from gray to silver and then to a whisper of
dark lapis. Her lashes were long and spiky, damp and thick. Black around her
wide gaze.

It was his wish now to prove to her how deeply she moved
him. How she had reached down into his proud heart and torn away all but the
wish to spend the rest of his existence with her. Learning all there was to
know about her. Being surprised by her, as he had been when he’d seen her face
down a force of monsters with the courage of a hundred battle-hardened
soldiers. More than anything, he wanted her to know what her love meant to him.

How it transformed him.

Made him a greater person.

How it unmade him, and reforged him into something more than
he could ever hope to be without her in his life and his heart.

Face to face. Heart to heart. He lifted her leg and draped
her calf over his hip. His fingers found her wet, hot and slick. Ready for him.
But he wanted more than to just bring her physical joy. He wanted to show her,
prove to her that he was worth all she was sacrificing.

He employed his breezes to kiss and caress every inch of her
body. He breathed warmth into those breezes, let them massage her
love-stretched muscles. They even moved gently between her toes. Because this
was his element. He was master of every atom, and he used them all to tease and
knead and tempt her flesh to quivering need.

The breeze worked like fingers against her scalp and she
moaned. He liked the sound of her pleasure, so breathy, so husky, from deep in
her abdomen. Her gasps told him better than words that he was doing his job
well.

He wanted her to crave him. To require him. To be unable to
live without him touching her like this.

If she craved him half as much as he needed her, then they
would be well met.

He rolled them in a coverlet of clouds. When she was atop
him, he entered her, sliding inside with a long, low sigh from her lips. She
wrapped around him like the tightest, hottest sleeve of silk. The juices of her
desire were like hot wax melting down over him. He rolled until they were once
more on their sides, knowing this position would tease her pussy in ways she’d
never dreamed possible.

Her body shivered, her sheath moved over him like an
earthquake, and he nearly came inside her.

But he knew the risk and knew his restraint now would pay
off later. He wanted to come inside her so much it made his teeth hurt, but he
flexed every muscle in his body to hold back the tide of his release. It would
be worth this agony, to wait, to hold himself steady.

She sighed into his kiss. Her raspberry mouth swollen and
wet from so many kisses, but each one felt new and undiscovered. Each one a
treasure and a gift. He sipped her breath, careful not to be too greedy, not
one to make the same mistake twice and frighten her with his ardor.

He breathed into her, whispering every endearment he knew,
in every language he knew. He rocked into her, slowly at first, holding her
with his arms around her shoulders and lower back. But when she undulated her
curvaceous behind, he couldn’t help but move faster between her quivering
thighs.

The scent of their sweat mingled with the clean ozone scent
of rain. The herbal-rich perfume of her skin and hair and breath intoxicated
him. The floral scent of her cunt made him dizzy when it reached him and the
soft, wet sounds their bodies made pushed him to the edge of his self-control.

She sang a chorus of moans. Sighs. Whispers and cries.

Her nipples were like plump, firm berries sliding over his
chest. Her throat was a soft, tender offering to his lips and tongue. She was a
feast.

Her skin was soft and smooth. Her hair was liquid silk,
wrapping around him like a gossamer web of darkness in the breeze. Her fingers
roamed over him, squeezing his buttocks, kneading his shoulders, clutching him
like tendrils of a vine that sought the sun.

He pulled her closer still. They were one solid being. Two
souls made one.

He cried out, unable to hold back any longer his need, his
joy, his exquisite pain. Throwing himself into her depths, he rode her hard and
fast. When she was keening high in her throat like a songbird, he knew she was
close. He pressed his pubic bone into hers, and felt the first deep, tight
tremors in her pussy begin to rain down through her.