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I don’t get to make beautiful shapes out of water and fire. I don’t get to coax leaves from the trees or flowers from the ground.
All I am told to do is squash my power down, rein it in, soften it, dampen it.
I stand up, take his hand, and tell him to lie down. When he does, I remove my dress. It falls to the floor and he stares up at me as if he can’t believe I am here and that I’m giving myself to him.
When I lower myself onto him, and he fills me up, I lean back and his hands drift up my stomach, to my breasts.
My hair falls over my shoulders. He teases its ends.
I let my wings free, the way his were, and they flutter as the pleasure builds inside me. And the entire time, I continue searching for him.
Finally, there it is. Shockwaves of pleasure are pulsing inside his skull and in the air around him. I can see them behind my closed eyes. I can feel them.
I latch on to them and breathe in slowly, concentrating on trying to make them bigger, and brighter, and louder.
Kayan moans loudly. “Oh my stars, Alana. Fuck. What are you doing to me?”
The pleasure dripping from his voice drives me wild. So, I focus harder. I pull, and tease, and curl tendrils of pleasure inside his mind until he is writhing beneath me, and then I am dragging it inside me and letting it bleed into my own pleasure, amplifying, dancing beneath my skin until there is no telling whose is whose anymore.
But then.
Then I feel something else.
Not his pleasure.
His power.
I falter. Kayan’s hips change rhythm beneath me and his breath slows. His power is there. I can see it. I can feel it. Blue energy, pulsing, and pulsing, and pulsing.
It is so beautiful.
I want to feel it the way I feel his arousal. I want to capture it, just for a second, and know what it feels like to have elemental strength inside me.
I tip my head back, my lips parting as a loud cry flies from them and swells in the room around us.
I have it.
His magic. Behind my eyes, blue bolts of light flood my body. They trickle through my veins, and wind themselves around my ribs, and take hold of my heart.
They grip tighter, and tighter, and my breath becomes shallow.
I open my eyes.
I can barely see. Blue light fills the room, swirling in the air between us, around us.
The fire is no longer alive. Only electric blue light, like waves, twirling faster and faster. I press my palms onto Kayan’s chest. His power and his pleasure combine and explode like a volcano of liquid heat inside me. Trembling, barely able to breathe, I stop moving and look down at him, searching for his eyes, desperate to see if he felt the way I did.
But his eyes are still.
His body is stiff.
Dark blue lines cover his chest and arms, and beneath him, his wings are no longer blue. They are grey now.
I fall sideways and stumble to my feet. “Kayan?” I whisper, standing, unable to move, staring down at his lifeless body. “Kayan?”
What have I done?
TWENTY-FOUR
