Misty
I sink to the edge of the bathtub and test the water, steam rising in ribbons that dance around my wrists. The lavender and honey scented soap wafts through the air, which is still and dark, mingling with the comforting, candle-lit darkness all around me.
Kenna and her family left three hours ago. Aviva went back to her house. Sydney and Sarah are tucked up and recovering in a nearby cottage, being tended to by the midwife and Cole, so I’m alone.
Addy is asleep in the bedroom only a few yards away, exhausted. I don’t blame him. The last time I felt like this–this worn to the bone–was right after the war when Cole and I closed ourselves in my old dorm room for an entire week just to rest, recoup, and come to terms with what we’d just been through–and somehow survived against all odds.
I pull my shirt over my head and shimmy out of my pants before tying my hair up and sinking into the water, groaning softly at the heat. The warmth works through my muscles, untangling knots from the stress and uncertainty of the last several days–the last several weeks, in fact.
I can feel my healing powers working beneath my skin. What they’re doing, I have no idea, but soon I’m totally limp and relaxed, leaning my head against the side of the tub as the relaxation turns to utter fatigue.
I just want to sleep. I want to sleep for days and wake up with a new outlook on life. Tomorrow morning, the sun will rise, and it will be a new dawn, a fresh start. At least, I’ll continue to tell myself that, over and over, until it finally feels like the truth.
I hear the door opening and closing sometime after midnight. The water in my bath has gone from hot to barely warm when Cole’s cautious footsteps ring through the house as he searches for me. Finally, he opens the bathroom door and takes a breath, smiling softly as he says, “How long have you been in there? The bubbles are gone.”
“A very long time,” I reply, feeling suddenly heated as his gaze rakes over my naked body. “I couldn’t sleep?”
“Are you tired now?” He steps into the snug bathroom and closes the door behind him, reaching for the buttons on his shirt.
“Not yet,” I whisper, watching his skilled fingers undo each button. He shrugs out of the shirt and tosses it on the ground before turning to where I’d hung a towel. He unfurls it, motioning for me to step out of the tub.
I obey but with a sigh of complaint. The air is chilled. The weather has definitely started tilting toward fall. No more warm nights or mornings without the threat of frost on the grass. It’s almost time to go home, honestly. There’s less than a month until the Harvest Festival.
I step into his arms, letting him wrap me in the towel.
But he doesn’t let me go. I take a shallow breath just before his mouth meets mine in an exploratory kiss–like he’s not sure where my head’s at and whether I want this kind of attention right now, but I can feel him burning just as brightly as I am when my lips part, and his tongue sweeps in to caress mine. I close my eyes, leaning into his touch. His hands rove down my back, dragging the towel with them until I’m naked before him. His hands cup my ass, lifting me up. I wrap my legs around his waist, murmuring, “Addy’s in our bed.”
“I know.” He turns and sets me on the counter, splaying my legs wide while leaning in with his hands braced on either side of the mirror. I reach down for his belt, pulling it free and tossing it on the ground with his discarded shirt. His mouth finds mine again in a hungry kiss that has my toes curling in anticipation.
I drag the heel of my hand up his length, loving the way he shudders and curses under his breath. “I missed you today,” he whispers against my lips.
“We were together all day,” I remind him with a smug smile.
“I missed this,” he growls, his tongue darting out and sweeping over my lower lip. “That's all I’ve been thinking about all day.”
His mouth travels across my cheek, to my jaw, where he peppers my skin with heated kisses while I desperately shove his pants and boxers down over his waist. He sucks in a breath when I fist his cock, pumping up and down in slow, rhythmic strokes.
He licks and sucks my neck where his mark is scarred on my skin, turning my insides molten. I splay my legs wider, whimpering as heat begins to pool at my core and every touch becomes too much.
“Please,” I whisper into his hair, closing my eyes as his hands leave the wall and grip my thighs, pulling me to the end of the counter. In one hard thrust, he buries his cock inside of me, and I resist the urge to scream in pleasure.
My nails leave marks down his back as he moves inside of me, his mouth never once leaving my body. He steadies me with a hand on my back, his fingers digging into my skin as the other hand gropes and kneads my breasts.
We needed this–this moment where we are the only thing that matters. Our mate bond pulls tight as he pushes me toward the edge of release, every stroke of his cock hitting places that have me biting down on my lip so hard I nearly draw blood.
But then he pulls out, dragging me off the counter and whirling me around. I catch a glimpse of our reflections in the steamy mirror. Me, flustered, pink, my eyes heavy with lust, and him, wild and unburdened, looking at my body like it’s a meal, and he’s been starving his entire life.
I gasp when he grips my hips and enters me from behind. He groans loudly, not bothering to hold back. One of his hands snakes up to grip my neck, forcing me to watch in the mirror as he devastates my body in the most delicious way.
I am incapable of thought. Pleasure of the highest degree blinds me to everything else in the world. He leans forward, covering my body with his, pushing back my hair to tell me how much he loves me, how good I am and how good I feel and I’m… overcome.
I cry out, gripping the counter as my legs begin to shake. He thrusts into me hard at the very moment my inner walls clench and throb against his cock.
“Cole!” I rasp, gasping for breath as my vision blurs, and my body shimmers with pleasure. He pours himself into me, his hands planted on either side of the counter like he’s shielding me from something–or someone. I feel safe and whole in his arms. I always have. I hate that I’d forgotten that for so long, that he was all I needed to heal.
He pulls out slowly, breathing fast. We look wild when I catch our reflections in the mirror again.
“You’re in heat,” he whispers, his voice clipped as I turn around to face him.
“How can you tell?”
“I’m your mate. It’s something I just… feel.”
I reach up to stroke his cheek. He already knows I’m not on any contraceptive tonics–not since we left Crescent Falls.
Maybe we should have been more careful, but the only thing on my mind, and apparently the only thing on his mind based on the fact he’s still fully, unwaveringly, erect is… doing this again.
I take a deep breath. He does, too. Then his mouth is on mine again while I drag him to the ground and ride him into oblivion.
* * *
I wake up with a start to sunlight beaming through the open curtains. Music floats in through the closed bedroom door, but I’m totally alone–and starving. A few sounds of panic wane when I realize Addy isn’t in bed and then hear him cooing somewhere nearby.
I slide out of bed, wincing at the slight ache between my thighs but smile at the memory of last night, when Cole and I went three rounds before finally dressing and climbing into bed.
But that must have been… hours ago, right? The sun is high in the sky, signaling noon, and my breasts are so full of milk I might actually explode.
I pull on a robe against the chill in the air and race into the main part of the cabin where Cole is on the couch and Addy is in his lap gnawing on his forearm while Cole scribbles in his notebook again.
“Good morning,” he says brightly, smiling.
I snatch Addy out of his arms and pull up my shirt. He latches immediately, thank the Goddess.
With a sigh, I sink onto the couch beside Cole, who watches us with a soft smile.
“It’s afternoon, you know.”
“You needed the rest. I woke up to you topless and Addy enjoying free rein when it came to milk and figured we could give you a break for a few hours.” He rises, setting his notebook down. “I grabbed some breakfast earlier and brought some back for you. Do you want coffee?”
“Yes, please,” I breathe, leaning back against the cushions. Outside, I can hear the villagers of Silverhide going about their day–doing chores, feeding animals, and whatnot.
But the pounding of hammers echoes through my head.
“What’s going on out there?”
“Ryan has some guys starting construction on the new pack house. He wants it done by the time snow falls, so they’re working quickly. I might go help, but Ryatt is here and wants to talk to us.”
“Ryatt’s here?” I lean forward. “Why?”
“I don’t know. I saw him talking to Ryan, and then he disappeared again. Ryan said he’d be coming back later and to expect a family meeting of some kind, but he brought your mom with him. She’s with Sarah and the babies right now.”
I smile despite the severity of our rough summer here and everything that happened. My mom doesn’t have powers–like Cole. She’s normal, but her gifts of caring for us are the greatest powers of all.
“I’ll go see them after I’ve eaten something. Oh, don’t fall asleep yet, you still have the other side–”
Addy yawns widely, smacking his lips as his eyes roll back in his head, but I settle him on my other breasts regardless, helping him latch and start massaging out the milk.
Cole sets a cup of coffee and a plate of eggs, potatoes, and bacon in front of me while Addy nurses himself to sleep. I reach for the table on the side of the couch and grab my own notebook and the copy of The Book of Whispers.
I can feel Cole watching me with interest as he tidies up in the kitchen.
I choose to ignore him, for now, knowing he’s curious why I’m flipping through the pages of the book, which is written in a language none of us understand–even those who read Firestone.
“It predates the Firestones, but the symbols are similar,” I tell him absently. “It’s like the first written version of their language.”
“So you’re breaking the code?”
“Well, if Luke wasn’t up in Celestoria doing Goddess-knows-what at the university up there, I’d call on him for help, but I’ve been putting this off for too long, and I need to get to work.” I meet my mate’s eyes. “I want to know how, and why, the forges were built, and I think the book will tell me that.”
“But the book was made by a forge, wasn’t it?”
“I’m pretty sure whoever wrote these spells threw it into the very forge that Aviva and I found. I think it’s the same forge that made her bow. I think it was the first of the forges.”
Cole leans against the counter as I turn back to the book, smiling to myself as my pen glides across my notebook, working out the roping symbols and deciphering their meanings.
“I love you, Misty,” Cole says, turning back to his chores.
I feel the corners of my mouth twitching into a smile. “I love you, too.”