A Kiss of Flame (Shadows Eternal #3)

Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

C hallenge accepted.

Levian could do her worst, but Barith was determined to win their bet before the night was through.

He followed the mage as Sil led them into a large common room. Kamár was lavish and indulgent, exactly as he’d expected such an exclusive sanctum of pleasure to be. Although Barith knew they were underground, the room was enchanted with walls that gave the illusion of being open to a twilight sky set high atop one of the mountains of Li’tha, home of the Summer Fae. A magickal breeze swept through, rustling sheer curtains carrying a warm floral scent. The dark marble and rich textiles added to the allure and intoxicated the senses. It was an impressive bit of magick. Even Barith felt compelled to relax despite knowing they were well below ground.

Creatures of all sorts were milling about or lounging over giant lush pillows and decadent couches—some napping, a few canoodling, most chatting and drinking.

When Levian and Barith entered, all heads seemed to turn on them. The mage wasn’t wholly infamous, but she was well enough known thanks to her lineage. And Barith—well, he was a dragon. A dragon dressed in nothing but a wee pair of swim shorts, whose red and gold scaled tail swayed behind him.

“The pools are through here,” Sil told them, gesturing to an archway on the other side of the large round room before leading the way.

Barith leaned down to whisper into Levian’s ear. “I doubt this was the only way there.”

Levian took his arm. “I told you they’d want to show you off,” she whispered back.

As they passed through the crowd, several pairs of eyes remained glued to them, including those belonging to a few familiar faces. Levian exchanged pleasantries with a couple of half-fae females she knew before telling them she would love to catch up more but was anxious to get Barith to the pool.

“I can’t blame you,” one of the ladies replied as she ran her gaze over him like he were a tempting snack she wished to sink her teeth into.

Over a dozen pairs of eyes stayed glued to his backside as Sil led them through the archway and into an atrium on the far side of the common space. A massive marble fountain sat in the center, with a life-sized male centaur reared up on his hind legs. A naked fae female sat upon his back, one hand held tightly around the creature’s muscled waist while the other held a large pitcher that poured water into the shallow basin below. An array of deer, rabbits, and other fauna were carved around their feet.

“I am here to aid you in any way possible,” Sil reminded them with a soft smile before tapping a finger into the flowing water. It immediately parted like a pair of water curtains, spreading wide to create a magickal opening that led to a dimly lit pebbled path. Sil stepped through, and Levian looked to Barith, clearly impressed, before she let go of his arm and followed. The path wound its way through reeds and lush plants. No more were they in the enchanted mountains of the Summer Fae, but now a lush valley of the Spring.

The room was expansive, with a few smaller pools nestled into a steep grassy hill coated in wildflowers, each flowing into the next before spilling into a larger, wider pool at the base. The air was warm, filled with the scent of fresh water and flowers. The ceiling and walls were enchanted, making it appear like they were in a wooded field during twilight, casting everything in a soft, dusky glow. Fireflies buzzed about the reeds and the soft chirp of crickets added to the ambiance. Barith fought the urge to whistle at the sight of it.

“It will grow fully dark soon,” Sil said. “There are lanterns that will light when it does.” They followed the path around the largest pool at the base of the hill, where creatures frolicked and swam. A pixie woman with short pink hair darted through the tall reeds nearby and splashed into the water with a delighted whoop. Barith chuckled.

“The quieter pools are up the hill,” Sil told them. “If you’d prefer?”

“That sounds lovely,” Levian replied, retaking Barith’s arm and stroking his bicep with her fingers. His skin tingled under her touch.

Sil nodded and led them up a stone path ascending the hill until they reached a more tranquil and sparsely attended pool toward the top. The dozen or so others took sharp notice of their arrival and grew quiet. Sil led them to their private nook near the water’s edge, which had already been laid out with fresh plush towels, large lounging pillows, wine, and snacks.

A threesome of curious naiads with slightly translucent, watery skin caught his eye nearby. Two of them giggled and smiled at him, while another pulled herself up to sit on a stone at the water’s edge, exposing her bare breasts before coyly looking at him over her shoulder. All three were naked, as was common with a nymph.

“If you want to play with the water nymphs, I won’t stop you,” Levian told him with a tone of stark indifference, letting go of his arm. She kicked off her slippers to step into the water. “I can entertain myself for a while.”

Barith had a weakness of sorts for nymphs—they were all ethereal beauty and open sexuality—he’d even fallen madly in love with a wood nymph once. He knew Levian was putting on a show for Sil, making it clear they were here together but also free to indulge in whatever struck their interest—just as they had planned. Yet there was something to her tone that felt cutting and raw.

He came up behind Levian as she stepped into the water, put his hand at the base of her neck, bent down, and grumbled seductively in her ear, “What are naiads to you, darling.”

Barith couldn’t see her reaction, but by the way she stiffened under his touch, he knew she was at least a little surprised. Sil ate it up, flashing a knowing grin before issuing one last encouragement to call if they needed anything.

When Sil was gone, Levian pulled away from Barith’s touch and stepped back out of the water. “This place is truly spectacular,” she said, glancing around the large room. Her demeanor suddenly shifted from playful to academic. The enchantments must have cost a fortune.”

Barith huffed a little laugh and poured them each a glass of wine. When it came to enchantments, Levian was like an artist who was always intrigued by another artist’s work. “A mage to the bone, aren’t ye?” he teased, handing one to her, which she took happily. “Who else would notice the complexity of the enchantments.”

She rolled her eyes and glanced back up at him. “Most Folk are bores, and I know what kind of work these things take,” she retorted as she had countless times before.

He smiled warmly down at her. “Aye, I knew ye do.” There had been many times in the past that he’d been subjected to Levian’s ramblings over the complexity of some spell or enchantment she was trying to puzzle out. He’d never understood a word but always loved hearing her mind at work and her captivated excitement as she talked about magick. “What’s wrong with this one?” he asked, giving her an opening.

Levian looked at him as if she’d been about to ramble but felt compelled to hold it in now that he was anticipating a tangent. “It’s fine work,” she replied.

Barith chuckled. “ But— ” he prodded.

She huffed and fiddled with one of her necklaces. “No, ‘but ’ ,” she clipped. He waited for a second, his smile widening. “ However ,” she started, unable to help herself, “the mage they used could have woven some of the details more accurately.” She pointed to a bit of grass nearby and several blooming flowers. “These grasses don’t grow in the valleys around Vasan. The flowers do, but these particular ones only bloom in the early morning, not twilight. I don’t know why they didn’t choose a bubble primrose or a blood moonflower. Both are lovely and bloom at night. Also, in high spring in Vasan, the temperatures are much warmer. I would guess their mage hasn’t spent much time with the spring fae.”

Barith munched on a strawberry. “I wouldn’t have noticed any of that,” he admitted. “It’s too bad ye got caught up working with Sirus and me. I’m sure the Eldreth would have poached ye to do all their weaving if they’d known what was good for ‘em.”

Levian huffed. “I’m not sorry about it. Besides, I doubt they would have paid my rates, and I’m not easy to blackmail.” She sipped her wine and looked about the room once more. “I know we’re here for more than fun,” she pivoted, “but we should indulge in what Kamár has to offer a little. Honestly, I didn’t expect it to be this impressive, even if it isn’t perfect .”

He smiled, appreciating the balance she struck—staying on task but willing to enjoy herself. Levian was intelligent and stubborn, but above all, she loved indulgence. Barith raised his glass to hers.“To a night of revelry that would make Carvatticus jealous.”

Levian laughed breathily, her violet eyes twinkling in the dim light, and clinked her glass against his. “Cheers to that. I’ll enjoy rubbing this in his face the next chance I get, especially since I know he’s never been invited, though he’s tried his best to get in.”

They both drank, the decadent flavors from the wine mixing with the enchanted warm spring air. Barith felt indulgent already. More than he had in ages. And he felt somewhat cocky over the knowledge that he’d achieved something His High Daemon Lordliness hadn’t. The night was off to a good start.

Barith made a note of the others in the pool. Beyond the three naiads that swam about on the other side near the rocks, a few older pixie gentlemen sat deep in conversation. Three beautiful dark-skinned fae lay on the shore’s edge, lazily eating, drinking, and laughing. A beautiful witch with long red hair and two male companions were swimming near the naiads. Everyone seemed occupied with themselves, except for the naiads, who continued to look back at him, but Barith felt the attention of the others on them, even if they were subtle. He was used to being ogled when he went out amongst the Folk. Dragons often kept to their hordes, and those out in the world rarely socialized in such settings.

Barith stepped out of his slippers and into the edge of the waters, which were tepid and welcoming. He sat his glass on a rock set up to be a table and held out his hand for Levian. “Shall we have a little swim, then?” he asked. “Since we’re to be enjoying ourselves.”

Levian smirked at him. “It would be a shame if we didn’t,” she agreed. The mage sat her glass next to his and, with a little swirl of magick, bound her vibrant pink curls atop her head in a messy bun. She untied her fine silken robe, and Barith’s jaw nearly hit the floor as she let the delicate fabric slip from her shoulders.

His gaze ran down her long, lithe figure, taking in every inch. Levian’s dark blue bikini was nearly sheer, her dark nipples obscured but vaguely visible beneath the triangles of dangerous cloth. Her bottoms were tied into little knots high above each hip and barely covered her backside. She threw her robe over the cushions nearby, and her necklaces dangled between her breasts like chimes, beckoning him closer.

Levian smiled smugly at him. Under any other circumstance, she would have thrown something at his head and called him a lech for looking at her like that, but she seemed pleased with herself here. Barith suspected she’d kept the outfit hidden to catch him off guard in an attempt to win their bet.

“You like it?” she asked mockingly, taking his hand delicately before stepping into the waters with him. The touch of her skin to his sent a skitter of awareness rioting through him.

Barith swallowed a lump of air. “Ay— ahem —Aye,” he replied with more success the second time.

He stood frozen as she slid by him, brushing her fingers along his stomach for balance, her bum rubbing along the top of his thigh. To her credit, he nearly gave in to the bet right then and there. She turned her back to him and stalked deeper into the water, sighing contentedly as it reached her hips. That little sound made him shiver, and his tail swished along the top of the water. He wasn’t aware of much except that he wanted to follow her, so he did.

“You could yield now,” she said playfully over her shoulder.

It was like a bucket of cold water thrown over his head. Barith tore his gaze from her arse even though it pained him to do it. She was a clever creature and knew him well. Knew his weak points. There’d always been a respectful boundary between them, even when they’d pulled similar stunts in the past. They’d flirt and push each other but never crossed that boundary. Their bet was to push the other to do exactly that. He knew they were playing with fire, but he was determined to win.

Emboldened, Barith moved past her, swimming to the center of the pool. “You’ve got to do better than a fine bit of cloth, magick slinger,” he challenged.

Levian shrugged a wee shoulder and smirked. “Says the dragon swimming away.”

Barith bit back a curse and dunked his head beneath the waters. It didn’t matter how fine and tempting she looked, it was just a game, and he needed to keep it together. He surfaced and found himself nearly face to face with a pretty little watery profile. The naiad smiled at him, her blue eyes glowing.

“You should join us,” she offered, her voice liquid and fine. The creature didn’t give him a chance to reply before she giggled and dipped below the surface to swim away back to her sisters.

“You should,” Levian told him, her tone tart once more. “If you want.”

He found footing in the deep waters and dipped closer to the mage. “Should I?” he questioned.

The naiads giggled behind him, but he kept his eyes on Levian. There was a time when the watery nymphs might’ve tempted him, but at that moment, the only thing he was tempted by was the woman with the sour expression standing before him.

“Ye a wee bit jealous, darling?” Barith asked, moving closer. Water sluiced down his front when he stood up fully, splashing lightly over the mage.

Levian scowled at him and recoiled at the water, but it fell flat as he caught her taking in his damp body. “Why would I be jealous?” she snapped half-heartedly, her eyes still on his chest when she spoke.

He felt a rush of triumph. “Maybe I’m the one who’s jealous,” he said, leaning down so that he dripped over her shoulder. “Jealous that everyone else here gets to look at ye in that—-” He didn’t know what word to say, so he merely growled low and dark.

Levian tilted her head to him, her eyes flashing violet and her cheeks flushing with color. Barith relished the rare blush and the fact that he’d drawn it out. “Or maybe they’re all jealous of me,” he grumbled so only she could hear.

The mage composed herself in a blink, rolling her eyes. She smirked, “They haven’t seen your wings yet. We’ll see who’s jealous then.” She slid past him and swam along the surface, carefully keeping her hair out of the water. Barith caught all three fae and one of the witch’s companions watching her as she swam. With a smirk of his own, he followed right behind her.

They swam near the pool’s center until the water was deep enough that Levian couldn’t stand, and he dove under. The mage’s fine, long legs worked to keep her above the surface, and he enjoyed knowing she wouldn’t dive down to join him. He tickled at her feet, and she kicked him off. He chuckled to himself. When he tried to do it again, her fingers lit violet beneath the surface, and she shot a rather lazy burst of magick at him. He did enjoy annoying her when he got the chance.

Two of the naiads swam past the mage beneath the water and came to either side of him. They smiled and waved at him, their ethereal naked forms in their natural element. One took his arm, and the other nudged his shoulder, urging him to come with them. He smiled back and shook his head, pointing to Levian and, to his surprise, his heart.

Their faces filled with disappointment, but they sighed their understanding before they each brushed a soft kiss on either of his cheeks and swam away. As Barith watched them go, he found himself amused rather than disappointed at missing the opportunity to enjoy the company of three water nymphs. His gaze tracked back up to Levian’s long legs, swishing about as if she were waiting for him to try something else. Her fingers were already illuminated with a small magickal charge.

He found a spot near her high enough to stand and popped up.

“I was beginning to think you’d drowned,” Levian grumbled at him.

Barith chuckled and whipped his damp hair back out of his eyes. “Not so lucky,” he told her. “Come here.”

She eyed him cautiously. “Why?” she questioned.

“Cause I can stand, and ye can’t,” he pointed out. He stood with the water only up to the top of his chest. Barith held out his arm for her.

Levian grumbled but took it, using him as a float. Barith pulled her in closer. “Grab my shoulders,” he told her. He was surprised she had no sharp retort but did as he told her. Barith took hold of her waist and moved her so that she faced him, careful not to pull her too close. She braced her hands on each of his shoulders.

“Is this for show or an attempt to win?” she snarked, looking up into his face.

He smirked. “Neither, but ye don’t have to believe me.”

She huffed and rolled her eyes, clearly not believing him at all. Barith let his tail swish beneath the water and enjoyed the moment of serenity. He looked up to the enchanted sky, which grew nearly dark, and stars shimmered above. “There’s a pond like this on the island,” he told her. “I used to swim there every summer as a boy. It was the only time it was warmer than the sea.”

Levian let out a contented sigh, her fingers digging mindlessly into his shoulders. “I didn’t swim in the sea until I was nearly grown,” she admitted. “My mother did take me to a spring when I was a girl, though. It was smaller than this and always deathly cold but lush in the summer heat. I’d play until my teeth chattered, and she’d have to sit me by the fire for hours to warm up. I even snuck out a time or two without her and would come home with a frozen nose and frozen toes.”

“I imagine Trislana loved that. You sneaking off without her knowing,” he replied, holding her waist with his thumbs and locking his other fingers together at her back.

Levian closed her eyes and smiled softly, lost in memory. “She said it was laughable compared to the other stunts I’d pulled. Car and I got into plenty of trouble as children in Obsidian.”

“Aye, that I believe. And I’m sure it was nothing compared to when you nearly burned down that Italian port,” Barith teased, referencing the time she accidentally set a fleet of ships ablaze in her youth.

“That was—” Levian’s voice hollowed, and she stiffened.

Barith felt a sting of regret for saying it and disrupting her easy demeanor. “I know. I didn’t mean?—”

She raised her hand from his to stop him, but her face was tense, and the regret stung anew. “When my powers came, I hid them from my mother,” she told him. “I didn’t know I had to release it. That night on the docks...it just happened. Like a bomb.”

He knew enough of the tale. Sirus, their vampire friend, had been the one to save her and several others from the inferno. “You were a child, Vi,” Barith said gently, stroking her side with his thumb. “You didn’t know. I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

Levian shrugged and blinked away the weight of the emotions she was grappling with. “It’s fine.”

The witch and her companions laughed with one of the fae females who had joined their party, drawing their attention momentarily. It wasn’t fine, and he knew it. He began to apologize again, but she cut him off before he could.

“I went to study The Towers after that,” she told him.

The Towers were the secluded boarding school where all mages were sent once the Wizen Council of Mages’s scouts managed to root them out as youngsters. From what Barith understood of mage magick, as conduits, there was always the risk of catastrophe unless they learned to manage their abilities. If born a mage, there was little choice but to go to The Towers when the wee ones’s powers began to manifest.

Barith knew he should change the subject, but Levian rarely talked about her childhood. Even after all these years of knowing her, much of her past was a mystery to him. He usually didn’t want to press her to talk when she wasn’t keen, but he found himself asking, “Did Council not try to take you before then?”

She shook her head. “They didn’t know what I was. No one did. I hid my magick well for a long time, but—” she gave a little deprecating huff.

“It’s hard to ignore ye when ye set a port aflame,” he finished for her.

Levian cut him a look and rolled her eyes, yet there was no hiding the slight sheepish grin that tugged at the corner of her lips. “Something like that.”

“And your mother returned to the Veil?” he pressed on, emboldened by the ease of their surroundings and her willingness to talk. The Veil of the White Wood was the home of the dryads, or wood fae. It was a sacred place, and only dryads were permitted to enter.

“She did. It was her home. After my father, she deserved some peace.” There was such a weight to her voice it made his heart ache. Barith admired Levian's strength and how she desired her mother’s happiness. He knew her upbringing had been challenging in many regards.

“Why not take you with her?” he wondered aloud. “Ye are half dryad.”

Levian lifted her hand and primped her hair. “She did before Merlin was captured. When he went to The Prison, she wanted me to be connected to my human ancestors—To know my people and not to judge them all like my father. It was noble, but she seemed adrift. She didn’t fit in Merlin’s world without him and definitely didn’t fit in when we were in Obsidian. She is happier at home in the Veil.”

The dusk light was nearly gone now. Crickets chirped louder, and the stars shone brighter above them, but the air remained warm and the water comfortable. Lanterns began to set the hillside in a soft, hazy glow. It was romantic and serene.

Barith took a deep breath of her night jasmine perfume, which settled him. He looked at her face and smiled when she looked skeptically back at him.

“You’re a good woman, Vi,” he said softly.

She blushed, wincing at the compliment. “Don’t try to butter me up. It won’t help you win,” she grumbled.

He lifted a damp hand from the water to gently shove a loose curl into her wrap. “You’re a pain in the arse and a stubborn princess, but you’ve always wanted good for people,” he told her.

Her blush deepened. “I suppose you’re not half bad yourself,” she mumbled.

“What praise,” he snarked.

Levian nudged one of his shoulders, and he wobbled playfully at her touch. They just smiled at each other for a moment, and he sensed that the mage was thinking exactly what he was—That it was funny that they were talking about this now of all times after all these years.

A pang filled his heart, and Barith brushed his finger along the edge of her jaw. Levian’s breath held, and her gaze lingered on his. It was an impulse that took over him, and before he realized he was leaning toward her—so close that her warm breath brushed over his lips.

Barith’s heart thrummed as he tasted night jasmine on his tongue. Levian tipped her face up, beckoning him closer—filling him with fire.

He wanted to taste her. He wanted to touch her. He wanted?—

“You’re slick,” she breathed into his mouth. “But I won’t fold that easily.”