AllFreeNovel
Share Us
She was being claimed—ravaged—and she loved it.
She drove herself against him. His grip tightened as his thrusts became deeper and more powerful, sending shockwaves of pleasure through every nerve in her body.
Her back arched as his tongue traced a furrow from the base of her spine to the nape of her neck.
A deep growl reverberated through her.
The hot pool of sensation building in her core trembled at the sound.
Teeth pressed against the sensitive flesh at the base of her neck. Even in her bliss-drunk state, she could feel the sharp points of those incisors as they slid to the curve of her shoulder. Whatever came next, she wanted it. It would hurt—and she still wanted it. With a moan of pure longing, she leaned into those teeth. Another growl shook through her, then his fangs pierced her skin.
“Gods!” She cried out, but it wasn’t from pain. A delicious fire spread from the spot. Her body hummed as if she’d been struck by lightning—branded by a storm—for she supposed she had.
Ecstasy swept over her, and she simply exploded.
Somehow, he swelled within her, locking their bodies together. Wave upon wave of release crashed through her, and they collapsed on the edge of the cliff, their bodies locked together and hearts pounding.
She lay in his arms, safe from the cold within the circle of his massive, fur-covered body. He whispered in her ear, beautiful and impossible promises of love and devotion that would never live outside this dream. But oh, how she wished they could. She closed her eyes, and for a moment there was only them—no past, no future—just an eternal present.
Now do you see? The Goddess said quietly in Maren’s mind, and then the firm hold of her knight’s grip vanished.
Chapter Five
Maren opened her eyes to find herself in the tower.
Loss sliced through her, so intense she couldn’t understand how her blood wasn’t spilling over the floor. She ached for her knight, for their place beside the cliff’s edge.
Grief burning her eyes, she rounded on the goddess. “Send me back!”
“In time,” Ceres said. “If it is time.”
Why did gods always speak in riddles?
Maren’s hands curled into fists, but she swallowed her retort. She’d seen enough in her visions to know that great powers rarely revealed their true intentions—yet the goddess hadn’t taken her into that dream for nothing. Staring into that green, vibrant face was like looking into a forest pool—teeming with life and impossible to view the bottom. If she wanted to know what Ceres sought, she would have to wait until the goddess decided to tell her.
“Ah, so you begin to understand.” Brows of vine and flower lifted. “Will you answer my call, Child of Sight?”
Another call.
The priests claimed she’d been called, and it brought nothing but pain. She lifted her chin. “Will I be able to return to him?”
“Yes, and no.” The goddess cupped her face, a sad smile curving the petals of her mouth. “You will find him and those he leads, and you will show them what must be done. But you must choose wisely, Child of Sight.” Ceres’s expression became a storm of sorrow. “You are right to fear pain. If you are to become my harbinger, you will be as my dearest starling, freed from this stone shell to beat your wings across the lands to where you are called.”
“I… I don’t understand,” Maren said. “I am to find him?”
“And the rest,” the goddess said. “He leads those who you are to gather. You will point them each in turn to their calling. But know this, my Child, that many beats of your wings must come before it will be time for what you most want—before it is his turn.”
Lips trembling, Maren stared at the goddess for a long moment.
The echo of pleasure, of that pure connection with her knight, still vibrated through her veins. The goddess had been clever, because now that Maren had tasted such belonging, she would do anything to reclaim it. But why the manipulation? She'd been trapped in a tower without any hope of escape, if the goddess had offered her freedom, Maren would have taken it—and gladly.
“Why?” The question tore from her very soul. “Why must I wait?”
“Because.” Ceres’s eyes held the sorrow of centuries. “The wings of a starling may start a storm, but it only holds if a singular combination of elements is found. You asked to touch something beyond suffering, and this I have given you. But a touch is not permanent—not yet. His pain is still too great, the darkness too loud in his ears. And your calling must come first if there is to be a future.”
“But…” Maren fumbled for words. “Why me? Why…any of this?”
“My child,” Ceres said. “You are my best hope. You know how to see what others don’t, and that sight is the most valuable weapon my harbinger could possess. There are deadly foes who will try to stop you. Cruel, vicious beings who killed my golden children, and now they seek more—always more. If they remain unchecked, even I shall die.”
