A Kiss of Flame (Shadows Eternal #3)

Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

B arith was playing a good game, Levian had to admit. He wanted to win, but she wanted it more.

He grumbled and leaned back from her, his hands still gripping her waist. Levian ran her fingers over the top of his muscled shoulder. “Can you let your wings out underwater?” she asked.

“Aye,” he replied. “Though I’ve never tried underwater, underground,” he added with a low grumble.

Levian knew Barith hated being underground, but she had hoped the enchantments would ease his discomfort. She quickly recognized how insensitive she’d been. The enchantments in Kamár were all illusions, and Barith was a sun dragon. He’d mainly seemed at ease, but the instinctual oppressiveness of being underground must have been gnawing at him since they’d stepped through the portal. She groaned inwardly at her thoughtlessness. “Barith, I thought you’d be okay, but if being here is too?—”

“I’m—” He paused, leaning in closer to whisper. “I’ll be fine. But letting out my wings underground feels unnatural.” He gave a little shudder as if the thought alone was uncomfortable.

“You don’t have to,” she clarified. “I just thought the spectacle might help impress everyone, but it isn’t a requirement.”

He grumbled again, and she felt a pang of guilt for even suggesting it. She liked teasing him, but she didn’t honestly want to torture him.

“Touch me,” he said.

“Pardon?” she asked, certain she’d misheard.

“You’re right. It would help, and I’m here to help you, remember?” He pulled himself further out of the water, holding her in place. “If I’m relaxed, it might be easier.”

“Barith, you really don’t?—”

He grabbed her wrist and placed her hand firmly on his chest. A small, uncontrolled jolt of magick skittered from her touch, and Barith rumbled a low growl. “Aye, that’ll do.”

Suddenly, Levian became acutely aware of him. Barith smelled like sun and spiced cologne, his chest hair thick and curling beneath her fingers. She softened, letting her hand trail down his torso, following the hair along the grooves of his muscles, over each ridge of his abs. As she reached his lower stomach beneath the water and hips, she ran a finger delicately along the edge. His breathing quickened, and he looked almost entranced.

“Barith?” she murmured.

“Hmm?” he groaned, leaning into her touch.

“I can relax you if you let me,” she offered, “with magick.”

He tensed slightly. “I don’t need to be ensorcelled,” he snapped.

Levian scowled. “That’s not?—”

He placed his fingers over her lips, silencing her. “Just touch me,” he repeated.

There was a sensualness to the request that rippled through her. Silently, she lifted her hand, brushing it back over his stomach. When she reached his chest, Levian pressed her fingers deeper into his skin. He grumbled, closing his eyes and melting into her touch.

His golden-red wings unfurled behind him in a flash of heat and light. Levian took a sharp breath, the slight scent of ash mingling with his cologne. She’d been right—it had impressed. The others gasped and squealed with delight at the display.

Barith leaned down, his face hovering just above hers, then folded his wings around them, creating a cocoon that blocked them from view. “Looks like I’m catching up to that bathing suit of yours, mage,” he teased, his amber eyes filled with dark amusement and a touch of something else—a challenge.

Prodded into action, Levian reached up and stroked along the edge of one of his wings, sending a skitter of magick along the membrane. He growled, his expression intensifying as his grip tightened around her waist, smoke curling from his flaring nostrils. Levian smiled coyly, then leaned in.

“You’ve already lost,” she whispered before kissing the tip of his nose. He jerked back, and she laughed. “Withdrawing again?” she mocked.

Barith grumbled. “Ye play dirty.”

Her smile widened. “And you don’t?”

He grunted, his hold on her waist loosening.

None of the others could see them clearly; they had no idea what they were doing behind the veil of his wings. The mystery alone would serve their purpose. Levian knew they should get back to their mission—they still had a job to do, and she had thieves to catch—but she was enjoying herself and stirred that Barith was willing to reveal his wings underground for her. That her touch made him feel relaxed enough to do it. His wings truly were beautiful.

“You should have let them out more,” she said, taking in their intricate ridges and scales. They were a stunning blend of gold and red scales, the membrane translucent enough to let in some light, with dark veins stretching beneath the surface.

“They get in the way,” he muttered.

She smirked, knowing it was an excuse. Barith was proud to be a dragon and loved the attention, but even he had limits. She’d heard countless creatures beg to see his wings, and he never relented. She hadn’t paid much attention to it until now, but she suddenly understood why he might keep them hidden. “Not everyone deserves to see all of us,” she said.

Barith stiffened, his gaze shifting to a spot beyond her shoulder. “Aye. That too.” His thumb brushed her ribs, and her skin tingled at the gentle touch. “Yer one of the few that has,” he told her.

Her throat suddenly felt tight. It was such a raw and honest thing to admit, and it touched her to her core. He didn’t just mean she was one of the few to see him with his wings. They had shared so much over the long years they’d known each other, and even though they still didn’t know every detail, there was a bond between them she hadn’t shared with anyone else. Not even Carvatticus.

Levian brushed her hand up along his neck tenderly. “I suppose I could say the same of you,” she told him.

When he dipped down and softly kissed her forehead, it startled them both. Levian inhaled sharply, and he pulled back.

They stared at each other, uneasy. Levian swallowed, the air between them thickening. Her insides tightened with anticipation.

Was he trying to win the bet? He seemed just as startled as she was. It was silly—it had only been a simple, chaste kiss. Yet the tension continued to grow as he gazed down at her. He tightened his grip, pulling her closer.

“Vi,” he murmured, almost pained, making her core ache.

She brushed her finger along the edge of his bearded jaw, magick cascading from her touch as her thumb brushed against his lips. He growled, the sound vibrating through her.

The arousal from earlier surged, and Levian found herself losing focus. When he took her thumb into his mouth and suckled gently, a wave of pleasure shot through her. Her breath hitched, and she pulled her thumb away. His eyes darkened, fixating on her lips. For a second, they both knew what was about to happen but let the moment linger. A silent agreement. A silent desire. Barith leaned in, brushing his lips softly against hers. It was hesitant. Unsure. Neither of them pulled away.

Whatever had held her back snapped, and she deepened the kiss. It was like an explosion. The air crackled as she slid her hands around his neck, pulling him closer. Barith growled into her mouth, wrapping his arms around her tighter until she pressed against him. The pressure of his chest against her breasts was heavenly.

Levian hadn’t forgotten how skilled of a kisser Barith was—teasing when she needed to be teased, devouring when she wanted to be consumed. When he broke away to kiss along her jaw and down her neck, Levian arched into him, pressing her breasts harder against his chest. The sensation was utterly delicious, and a groan escaped her.

He growled, nipping at her ear, then her neck. Levian nearly purred in response. Even in her passionate delirium, she was competitive. He wasn’t the only one with power. She moved the hand woven into his hair to the ridge of his wing, remembering what he’d divulged in the alley. Levian brushed her fingers along the scales of his wing with a skitter of violet magick.

Barith shuddered, stopping his kisses. She did it again, and he tensed. She felt the hard length of him against her thigh, his little shorts the only thing separating them. Levian hadn’t forgotten that part of him either. Barith was cocky, but to his credit, he had the credentials to back it up.

Levian's arousal heightened, and she reached up with both hands, stroking along each wing, sending shocks of magick ricocheting between them. Barith whimpered, closing his eyes, his breath shallow. One of his thumbs brushed under her breast, and she gasped. A cocky delirious smirk was his reply. Levian had been about to breathlessly tell him where he could stick that grin of his before his mouth was on hers.

She despised the unfiltered moan of ecstasy that spilled out of her when his thumb brushed her nipple. Levian wanted him. This wasn’t a game anymore. Flashes of dark fantasies filled her mind—of them locked away in one of Kamár’s private rooms, tangled in silk sheets, lost in passion; of her suspended, tied in elaborate ropes, waiting for Barith to push her to the edge; of them in Ember Hall’s library, making love before the fire.

It was that last image that jarred her—a scene not of lust but intimacy. It struck a sensitive nerve, and Levian recoiled. She grabbed Barith’s shoulders and pushed him back. His dark expression shifted to one of confusion.

“We should stop,” she panted, her skin still tingling.

“Vi?” Barith said cautiously, recognizing something was wrong.

That made it worse. She pulled back, the fire doused by a cold splash of reality. “This isn’t helping us,” she rambled. “We need to find the Curator.”

“Levian, I’m—” Barith began, his voice thick with guilt. He sighed, letting his wings partially open around them, stepping back and positioning her so she could stand on her own under the water.

The others watched, their display drawing whispers, attention, and a few winks. Levian forced herself to smile, slipping back into her practiced, kittenish demeanor as she exited the pool, leaving Barith behind.

She grabbed a towel, wrapping it around herself, and heard the whoosh of water as Barith followed her out. She glanced over her shoulder—his wings were gone, his expression flat. Guilt gnawed at her.

Levian had broken away so abruptly, and now he was hurt. They’d gotten caught up in the moment and the ambiance. She was sex-deprived and on edge. It was her fault, but they needed to get back on task. She knew the best thing to do was put it behind them. “I suppose I’ve lost,” she admitted, her tone light but her words sour.

He lifted his head, his expression unreadable as he took a towel. “Aye,” he replied, his voice gravelly. “I knew I’d win.” There was no smugness, only a hollowness that made her stomach knot.

“Leaving so soon?” One of the fae called from the shore. “There are never dragons at Kamár, and we’d hoped to keep you to ourselves for a while.”

Others chimed in with agreement. The red-haired witch openly pouted at the idea that Barith would leave without at least letting them get a good look at his wings again. Levian felt a jolt of disgust. They were treating Barith like a prize—a thing—and it made her want to scream, even if that had been the reason she’d brought him here in the first place.

Barith turned back to the others and replied without a hint of unease, “I’d love to stay, but we’re playing a bit of a game, and unless one of ye deals in rare and ‘ very legal ’ artifacts, I think we best be off.”

Levian’s stomach dropped at his bluntness, but she kept her face neutral.

When no one came forward, Barith shrugged, wished them good night, blew a kiss to the naiads, who giggled, and put on his slippers. He headed for the path without a single glance back at her.

Levian hesitated, feeling his irritation. She quickly threw on her robe and slippers and rushed after him. She caught up, grabbing his arm.

Barith stopped, his expression flat. “I’m fine, Vi,” he growled under his breath. “I just need a minute.”

She wanted to offer to leave, to say they’d find another way, but footsteps approached. The pair of elder pixie gentlemen who had spent the evening chatting intensely by the pool appeared around the reeds. One looked at Barith, the other at Levian. They were obviously related—short, with the same wavy hair, thick brows, and large noses.

“The faerie was right,” the one to Levian’s left said. “We don’t get many dragons in Kamár.”

“Especially none like you,” the other added, looking Barith over with admiration.

“You’re Merlin’s girl?” the pixie in front of Levian asked.

Levian fought to stay calm. “I am,” she said curtly, arms crossed. She waited for the inevitable crass remark about her father.

The pixie smirked. “I’m Hugh,” he said, pointing at the other. “My cousin, Artie.” Artie grumbled a greeting. Hugh’s gaze sharpened, and Levian could tell he was not someone to be trifled with. “I was acquainted with your father for a time,” Hugh said.

“I’m sorry,” she replied in half feigned apology.

Hugh grinned, showing off a mouthful of nearly perfect teeth, save for a single gold one in front. “Don’t be.”

Sil appeared behind the pixies, and neither turned to acknowledge the fae. “Take them to the inner suite,” Hugh commanded.

Sil’s eyes widened briefly in surprise. “Of course,” they replied with a nod.

“Inner suite?” Barith questioned.

Artie looked between them. “A private area,” was all he offered.

Hugh’s gaze stayed on Levian. “Come and enjoy yourselves,” he said. “Then maybe we’ll talk about why you really came to Kamár.”

A jolt ran up Levian’s spine. Hugh smirked as he and Artie moved down the path, Artie muttering about the dragon’s impressive size. Levian blinked up at Barith before they both turned to Sil.

“What private chamber?” Barith asked.

Sil smiled. “The one that requires a direct invitation from the masters of Kamár,” they replied, slipping down the path to lead the way. Levian had suspected the pixies might be related to the Eldreth, but she hadn’t thought they were the masters of Kamár. Her stomach twisted. Apparently, they had just met the Eldreth themselves, standing in the middle of a pebbled path, barely clothed.

Barith looked at her. “Are ye sure about this, Vi?” he asked when Sil was some distance ahead.

She shook her head. “No,” she admitted.

He sighed, stepping forward to follow their fae escort. “So, just like old times,” he said, holding out his hand to her. “Just promise me ye won’t let them lock me in a cage like an exotic bird and auction me off to some kinky fae prince.”

Levian chuckled, taking his hand. She felt more at ease knowing he was alright. As long as Barith was with her, she knew she’d get what she needed. Besides, it wouldn’t be a true adventure without some danger and mystery. “Never,” she replied, crossing her finger over her heart playfully. “Though I’d love to watch them try.”