All the Sacrifice of Shadows (Starstorm #2)

Chapter 6

CHAPTER SIX

D rake knew it would be a mistake to kiss her.

The moment his lips touched hers, every fraying thread of his self-control would unravel. There would be nothing to hold him back, nothing to stop him from devouring her. Unless she asked him to stop.

His fingers pressed into the soft flesh of her neck, his thumb sliding under her chin to tilt her face up to him. He kept his other arm wrapped tightly around her, his hand stroking her hip as he silently wished the fabric separating his touch from her skin would vanish. The echo of her wild pulse thumped loudly in his ears, his blood heating in response. A splash of freckles was scattered across Creslyn’s nose and cheeks, and he’d already memorized the location of every single one. He didn’t know what god or goddess had seen fit to curse him with the beauty in his arms, but her brother’s words reverberated through his mind.

I think you’ll find her a suitable match.

Match.

That one word would be his ultimate demise.

Ariesian Starstorm had offered up his youngest sister to Drake on a silver platter, as though he somehow knew Creslyn was more than a simple bargain. She would be the one to bring him to his knees.

Her pale pink lips parted in anticipation, the softest of sighs escaped her, and Drake submitted.

His mouth crashed against hers in a brutal, punishing kiss. He was not romantic, nor was he gentle. She wouldn’t swoon or fall lovesick, but she would know the intensity of his possession.

Creslyn’s entire body went rigid in his arms as he pried her lips open with his tongue. He half expected her to pull away, to shove him off for being so demanding. But as he’d recently come to realize, she surprised him yet again.

Rising on her toes, she angled her head, granting him access to the delicious taste of her. The warm sweep of her tongue danced across his own, and her fingers tangled in his hair, drawing him into her. She tasted of raw temptation, of his darkest desires come to life. He angled her then, deepening the kiss, while the hand that once remained steady on her hip gradually slid down and around over the curve of her bottom. Gripping firmly, he squeezed, and the noise she made nearly caused his knees to buckle.

His cock thickened, strained against the confines of his pants, and Creslyn’s gasping breaths roused the deep, primal desire he kept locked away.

She was desperate.

Longing for him.

And he fucking loved it.

Drake broke their kiss, then reached down and grabbed her thigh, not caring if bruises were left in his wake. She would wear his mark proudly, of that he had no doubt. He shoved her heavy velvet skirts out of the way and hoisted her leg up. Her nails scraped against the leather he wore as she struggled for purchase, her breath coming in gasping pants. She melted into him, her soft lips skimming his jaw and cheek, setting his teeth on edge. She was not his first kiss, but she would be his last. There was something about her, a likeness that called to the shadows of his soul. It was hidden beneath her pristine exterior, waiting to be discovered. She was a storm of violent sunbeams and catastrophic rainbows. A disaster in the making.

Holding her steady against him, he carefully slid one hand beneath the fabric of her gown. Her legs trembled as his fingers brushed along her thigh, then higher still. With painstaking slowness, he swept his knuckle along the delicate lace barricade protecting her from his touch, and found it damp. He hooked one finger around the fabric and tugged.

Creslyn’s head fell back, and she arched into him, a silent plea.

He lowered his head, swiping his tongue along the swell of her breasts, leaving behind a faint trail of steam as the frigid wind of the cliffs barreled into them. Clutching her against him with one arm, his knuckles grazed her swollen center. She clawed at him then, her nails scouring his neck as she rocked her hips forward.

“Drake, please.”

The way his name fell from her lips, the way it sounded like a prayer to the gods, was enough to drive him mad with lust.

He pressed a kiss to her neck, his mouth slowly moving toward the elegant, pointed tip of her ear.

“Tell me to stop,” he whispered.

She shook her head, whimpering. “No.”

Damn her.

Then he did the one thing he swore he wouldn’t do, he slipped into her mind.

“If you do not tell me to stop,” he murmured, and her sapphire eyes flew to his, wide with shock, “ I will ruin you.”

“You…” Her chest heaved as she searched his face for something she would not find. “I can hear your voice in my head.”

“Do not get any fanciful ideas, kearsta . I am not your mate.” With painstaking slowness, he removed his hand from beneath her skirts and placed it on the small of her back instead. “I can enter anyone’s mind so long as their guard is down.”

The silver flecks in her eyes danced with a gleam he didn’t recognize. “You can hear my thoughts, then?”

“Hear them. See them.” He shrugged, bouncing her in his arms. “The two are not so different.”

“Are they not?” she muttered, and then her sweet mouth was devouring him.

Images slammed into Drake’s mind, vivid and colorful. Her imagination overwhelmed him. Her daydreams set him on fire until the scorch of them charred his already blackened soul. Creslyn tore through the walls of his own mind, until he was flat on his back in her bed, with her seated atop him. Naked and glorious, she rode him relentlessly, taking every inch of his cock while his shadows crawled all over her bare skin. Her orgasm drove him over the edge, exploding in a rush of blinding sunbeams as she fractured his darkness with a thousand rainbows.

Drake grabbed a fistful of her silky hair, gently yanking her head back, and broke the connection. He scraped his teeth down the column of her throat.

“Wicked little faerie.”

“You might not be my mate.” She smirked, and he wanted those lips of hers all over him. “But you will be my husband.”

“All in good time, sjellhert .”

A screech pierced the sky, as familiar to him as the pounding of his own heart, and Drake looked up to see Svartos cutting through the overcast skies. In Brackroth, the dragons were revered and feared like gods, and Drake commanded all of them. His legion was vast and powerful, with each of his riders being hand-selected by him. It was the dragon, however, who chose its rider. Their trust was earned, their loyalty never given freely. They could be trained, yes, but the intuition coursing through their veins spanned centuries.

He soared closer, the beating of his wings like that of a steady drum, sending a surge of wind rushing into them. Drake snared Creslyn’s hand, lest the intensity of Svartos’s landing blow her off the edge of the cliff.

The dragon pawed at the ground, his sharp claws sinking into the soft dirt. He tucked in his majestic wings and his numerous scales shone like polished obsidian in the muted morning light. Svartos craned his long neck, then tossed his head once, the striking yellow of his eyes fixated on Creslyn.

She didn’t even flinch.

With practiced caution, she held out her hand, palm up, and approached the dragon. His thin, vertical pupils dilated, gauging her, and when she neared even closer, Svartos inhaled deeply. A rumbling sound emitted from the back of his throat, and his nostrils flared as he breathed in the scent of her. She was nothing compared to the magnificent creature, practically the size of a sprite against the backdrop of a mighty dragon. Drake watched as Creslyn’s chest rose and fell, unwavering, while she reached up and gently touched the rough patch of scales right along his snout. He blinked once, lowering himself closer to her. From Drake’s vantage point, it almost looked as though Svartos was nuzzling her open hand.

Fucking traitor.

Svartos lowered himself to the ground, another huff of warm air ruffling Creslyn’s skirts.

“Come with me, solysa .” Drake scooped her up off the ground and set her atop the wide leather seat strapped around Svartos’s back.

“Where are we going?” she asked, smoothing her skirts and crossing her legs over one side of the saddle.

“For a ride.”

Drake vaulted up behind her, tugged on his riding gloves, then situated her securely against his lap. He kept one arm around her waist and took up the reins in the other, threading them through his fingers. Creslyn tucked a lock of silver and icy pink windswept hair behind her ear, then peered up at him.

He clicked his tongue, nodding once. “Say the word.”

Pure exhilaration highlighted the gentle planes of her face, illuminating her from within. She’d only heard him speak it once, on the night they left Aeramere, but he knew she would remember.

“ Vaeja .” She spoke in hushed tones, mimicking his accent perfectly, and Svartos rose, stretching his vast wings.

A moment later, they were sky bound. Creslyn squealed, throwing her arms out to either side, tilting her face up to the invisible sun. Tendrils of her hair whipped in the frigid breeze, tickling Drake’s cheek and chin. She dipped to one side, leaning back, and he locked her in his grip to keep her from sliding further. But in his arms, she was relaxed, as though she had not a care in the world. Her trust humbled him, her smile was brighter than the northern auroras that awoke during winter’s coldest nights. She swung her legs freely, and one of her heels slipped loose, tumbling toward the earth.

“Oh!” She eased up and peered over, her cheeks flushed pink from the cold. “I lost my shoe.”

The corner of Drake’s mouth twisted into a wry smile. “Must run in the family.”

Her elder sister, Novalise, had a habit of losing her shoes as well.

Svartos carried them high into the thick gray clouds, gliding far above the uneven cliffs that dropped off into the dark icy waters of the Havnokk Deep. Here, away from Castle Brackroth, away from King Marius, Creslyn could be free.

“Show me your magic, solysa .”

She looked up at him, the blue of her eyes more endless than he’d ever seen it. “What?”

“Your magic,” he repeated with a pointed look at the staff-like constellation marking her heart. “Show me.”

Creslyn sat up straight and rolled her shoulders back. Without another word, she raised her arms, and for the first time since Drake could remember, beams of radiant sunlight shattered the leaden skies of Brackroth. The golden rays swirled and danced, splintering through the clouds as ribbons of rainbows coasted alongside them like colorful waves. Prisms in the shape of eight-pointed stars reflected the sunbeams, cascading over and around them in a shimmering iridescent sphere.

She was artistry in the skies.

Splendor in the flesh.

After what seemed like an eternity of feeling nothing, her power washed over him. A touch of warmth. Of life.

Creslyn sighed heavily, her magic gradually receding as she leaned against his chest, resting her head upon his shoulder.

As much as he didn’t particularly care to ruin the moment, thus far, she’d asked only one thing of him—she wanted to be prepared. To know what she was getting herself into…and he could not deny her that request.

“I must leave you tonight.” He guided Svartos back toward the castle, easing lightly on the reins to slow his speed.

Awareness spread through her, and he sensed the muscles in her body grow tense. “Leave me?”

“Only for a night, sjellhert . There is something that requires my attention.” Drake lowered his head, brushing his lips lightly across her temple. “Duty binds me.”

“Duty.” She gnawed on the corner of her bottom lip, her intent gaze fixating on him. He could hear her thoughts, her doubts, her questions. She sorted through them, debating what to say, what to ask. The one she chose would haunt him. “Are you going to take a life?”

“Yes.” Drake nodded solemnly. He would not lie, but nor would he expose her to the bloodthirsty reality of his nature.

“Is that what you meant before?” A tiny line of worry marred her brow. “When you said you had somewhere to go?”

Drake kept his expression neutral, admiring the stones dangling from her ears. “Yes.”

Creslyn twisted to face him, stretching her legs out on either side of him, planting her hands on his thighs.

Gods, this female would be the end of him.

“Could I go with you?” she asked in earnest.

Blinking back his surprise, Drake chuckled. That had been the last thing he’d expected her to say. “The risk is far too great, Creslyn. As much as I’m loath to leave your side for even a minute, where I’m going…it is not suitable for you. It’s dangerous. My reputation precedes me. If word gets out that I’ve brought my future bride, those who fear me would come for you.”

She raised one eyebrow, her lips pursing. “So, are you saying I’m your weakness?”

Drake’s hold on the reins tightened, and the silence that stretched between them was damn near deafening.

When he spoke again, he ensured his voice was cool. Detached. He could never allow her to be his weakness, it would be an omen for them both. “You are not a weakness, but you are not yet a weapon. You are not my Shadowblade. You are not the sharpened edge of a sword, nor are you the finely honed tip of a dagger.”

Creslyn shifted again, tugging on her gown, dragging her legs higher to eliminate any space between them. She scooted forward, seating herself on his lap, and draped her arms around his neck. Drake eased back, uncertainty digging into the base of his spine.

“Fine then.” Resolution and something darker burned in the depths of her eyes, and the soft features of her face hardened with steadfast determination. “Make me your weapon.”

Fucking gods.

Drake almost groaned.

Those words falling from her lips sent a bolt of desire straight to his cock.

He grabbed her neck, kissed her hard, and when her teeth sank into his bottom lip, he knew he’d met his match.

“I will,” he murmured into the delicious heat of her mouth, slowly breaking the kiss. But he didn’t pull away. Not fully. “While I am gone, Kjeld will train you. And when I return, we will fly to Aeramere for the wedding.”

Creslyn leaned into him, trailing her lips along his neck to his ear. “I will not fail you.”

Drake never doubted it, but he could not erase the fear of knowing he would be the one to fail her.