Scars and Burns (No Light Without the Dark #1)

45. Dinalia

45

Dinalia

I feel his presence before I hear him.

“Congratulations on your victory.” He says from behind me.

I whip my head around. A little more aggressive than I was intending. Though perhaps it wasn’t aggression. It could have been excitement.

Standing, I brush myself off. “Please don’t patronize me.” I say, not appreciating his tone.

“I’m not. Truly.” he says flatly, face serious, “It’s true no one has been able to beat me in years. You fight with a style I have never seen before. Fluid and stern. Graceful and fierce. It’s remarkable.”

It almost sounds like he means it. I’m aware of his reputation, his fighting ability. He’s a defiler. It truly is no small feat that I was able to beat him. His comment on my fighting style makes sense. Considering that I have developed a lot of skills and movements myself.

I tilt my chin up. “Thank you.” I reply kindly, looking off to the waterfall after. I have no reason to be harsh with him. He has done me no harm. Given me no offense. There is no need for me to be defensive and on guard. Sighing, I say, “For a moment I didn’t think I was going to win.” admitting the truth.

He walks over toward me slowly. I’m not sure why but my body is tense. His eyes make me feel like he is peering directly into my soul. Exposing every inch of myself to him.

I see him fiddling with something in his hands but I am too enraptured by his eyes to look to see what it is.

“Why not?”

“You, like most, have superior size and strength over me but you move faster than I was anticipating. Hitting me in the face was a low blow.” I canter, never taking my eyes from his.

He hums, “Hitting you in the face was not my intention. Are you alright? I do hope I did not hurt you.”

Crossing my arms over my chest. I laugh internally. If he thinks I am hindered by a mere bruised lip he knows less about me than I thought. “I am fine. I have endured much worse than a busted lip.”

“I can imagine,”

I whip my head towards him. He says that like he knows something. Is he aware of my killings in the Shadowlands? Is he here to pay the debt? I’ve lost count of how many of their men I have killed. I didn’t know who any of them were. But all were at least soldiers. Vile and unhonorable soldiers but soldiers in their army nonetheless. I only killed those already doing harm. Steeling, reeving, and raping.

Almost sensing my thoughts, he answers my questions, “No one could become as good as you without taking a few hits themselves.”

Relaxing a bit. He doesn’t know after all. My secret is safe. Perhaps when they all finally leave I can continue my work.

I say that as if I am doing some great deed. I sort of am. Charity work if you will. Saving the innocent. Punishing the guilty. Only instead of a life in prison. I am simply sentencing them to death. No, need to pray for reprieve from our Goddess. I will bring them their final release .

I notice the item he is still fiddling with in his hands. My eyes almost shoot out of my head when I see what it is. It’s a flower.

My flower.

One I grew in my Mother’s garden.

I knew he had been there but I didn’t realize he had ventured so far in to find my small patch of life.

“Where did you get that?” I ask, taking the flower from his hands. Holding it up between us.

“I found it in your Mother’s garden. Saphrina informed me this morning that you grew them.”

“Yes.” I say, suddenly very self-conscious of my magical abilities exposed to him.

“It is beautiful. Now you see why I compared your eyes to the black dahlia. Both filled with mystery and intrigue. Drawing everyone into their beauty.” he says, matter of factly.

I look up at him. Our eyes meet. I feel as if my heart is about to pound out of my chest. Doing my very best to keep my breathing steady. I haven’t been alone with him since the last time we were in this very spot, four years ago.

The tension is high.

The air is different.

The chemistry has changed.

“Thank you for your kind words.” I say, still unsure how to proceed with him. Not fully processing what he’s just said to me.

“They are not just kind words. They are the truth. You are beautiful and mysterious. Your eyes hold much sadness and despair in them and I would spend every single day for the rest of my life trying to rectify the wrongs that have been done to you. To see the light that burns inside of you come to the surface.” he closes his eyes, pausing.

I’m not entirely sure what he is saying but I like that he’s saying it. His deep savory voice blessing my ears. Seeping into my thoughts. I’m getting lost in his voice. The most satisfying ballad I’ve ever heard.

“You are a rare star whose light cannot be matched.”

His words barrel through me. Those are my Mother’s words. How could he possibly know them?

Sorrow pinches my heart.

I should be angry. Should be questioning how he knows something only she would say.

But I’m not.

I feel a sense of belonging again. The way he says them. The way he is looking at me. The same loving and endearing way my Mother once did.

But somehow different.

More intense.

He says them not as inspiration to lift my spirits but as if they are a prophecy and he is speaking it into existence for all the world to hear.

As if he would speak it to me every single day until I believed it myself. Show me with everything he has, everything he is.

“Why would you say that?” My breathing is shallow. Not even able to hide it anymore. I can’t stop my eyes from drifting to his lips. Though I quickly dart them back up.

He’s watching me closely. Following my eyes. Looking towards my lips as well.

Does he want to kiss me?

Goddess I want to kiss him. His lips look soft yet I am sure they could be quite bruising. Having felt them trail my skin before. I’ve dreamed about our earlier encounter. Fantasized about them.

About him.

Touched myself to the thought of him more times than I care to admit.

He steps closer. Looking down at me. I’ve dropped my arm with the flower, dangling it by my side. We are so close our chests brush against one another with every breath.

His lips brush the top of my forehead. Skimming my hairline. I close my eyes as I feel them graze my skin.

He weaves one arm around my waist. Pulling me in. Our bodies are flush. I feel his dick. Even through his trousers and my own, I can feel him. I yearn for him. Long to be bare beneath him and him bare before me. It lies there against my stomach. I can only imagine what would be revealed if we were to continue. He moves his other hand to my cheek. His hands are huge. Engulfing the entire side of my face. His fingers weave into my braid.

His amber scent fills my nose. Spicy and rich. Warm just like the heat radiating off of him. Filling me to the brim.

A warmth I’ve grown to love so much I don’t think I will be able to live without it.

How can I allow this?

Saphrina believes him to be her mate.

But he can’t be. He can’t feel a pull towards her. Not when there is this unspoken, uncontrollable, gravitational connection between us.

I’m losing my resolve. The grip on my willpower is slipping away with every passing moment. Every second we are together brings me close to the edge.

My Goddess mark begins to burn.

That’s never happened before.

But I don’t mind it. It’s a comforting burn. It’s nice to feel something other than a constant chill or the sting of a fresh cut.

It’s him.

Only him.

Before I can think any further he’s smashing his lips against mine.

I pull away. Stunned at first. Glancing between his eyes for a few moments but then I give in. Giving in to the only one that has ever made me feel anything .

I return my lips to his.

Our mouths collide. Our tongues intertwined.

It’s long. Filling my whole mouth. The way he moves it against my own. I feel my center moistening between my legs imagining his tongue elsewhere. There in particular.

He tightens his grip around my waist and hosts me up. I wrap my legs around his torso. He’s the strongest man I’ve ever felt. Gripping him closer. I feel his hands on me. One gripping my ass the other splayed across my back, supporting me up right against him. His fingers are so long I can feel them curve around me. His hand filling the entire width of my back.

I give in to him. Dropping the flower. Wrapping him up in my arms. I run my fingers through his hair. Gripping and tugging, weaving my fingers in his raven locks.

His aggression matches mine. His passion consumes me. Our tongues dance with one another perfectly.

Feeling daring, I take his face in my hands. Intending to give him something in return from earlier. I begin to withdraw but I feel him hold me tighter, not wanting to let me go. That brings a smile to my face as I pull my mouth slowly away. Taking his bottom lip in between my teeth. Dragging it out and applying pressure ever so slightly. Breaking skin, I release his lip. Looking down at him with a smirk on my face.

His shock is evident but there’s something else.

Desire.

I watch him lick up his blood. He looks up at me and matches my devious smile.

“Just returning the favor.” I whisper to him.

Something unravels in him. I see it in his eyes.

In an instant he’s on me again. Guiding us to the ground.

His body consumes mine. I close my eyes to the feel of him. His hard planes brushing against me. His dick grinding into my center. I match his movements. Moving with him rather than against him.

Rearranging myself so he passes over my center each time.

I shouldn’t be doing this. For so many reasons I shouldn’t be doing this.

But I can’t stop.

My legs are gripped around him. My arms pull him even closer. If that is possible.

I tilt my head up and to the side as he kisses down my neck to my chest. I’m untucking his shirt. Trying to find purchase on his chest. To say he is chiseled is an understatement. The deep groves and definition of his muscles is uncanny.

Though I feel something else on his skin. He’s riddled with tattoos but that shouldn’t leave this raised texture.

It feels almost similar to a scar.

Where would he have gotten those? I’m curious but I can’t seem to think straight. Can’t focus on anything else but him.

He’s undoing my corset and I don’t care. He’s already seen my Goddess mark, knows it’s there.

I need him. I need this release.

He’s almost got it when I hear something in the tree line.

We freeze.

My heart is already racing but my mind immediately thinks we’ve been caught. Of course out of all the years I’ve been coming here the day I give in to my desires is the day someone else ventures here as well.

What if it’s a guard?

What if it’s King Elio?

What if it’s Saphrina?

I wince at the thought of her seeing us together. How could I do that to her after she’s just confessed that she thinks he’s her mate. I’d literally be the worst person in the world.

We turn our heads in the direction of the noise. Our bodies still pressed against one another.

I feel him begin to push off of me and instinctively I pull him closer. I can’t be sure if it’s because I don’t want what we were doing to end or if it’s because I don’t want the solidarity feeling of my soul to return.

Or perhaps even, it’s an urge to protect what I’ve just been given.

Whatever that may be.

He leans ever so slightly into me again. Giving me a reassuring look.

A look that could mean I will protect you, or one that could be don’t worry this is not where we end.

The creature emerges from the tree line. We jump to our feet. Scrambling to gather ourselves again.

The forest has been filling up with more and more dark creatures over the years. They’ve always been here but recently they have become more aggressive. Attacking unprovoked. Feeling the Goddess’s magic fading from the earth. They are taking advantage of the Goddess’s light dwindling.

Though I’ve never seen this manner of creature before.

It’s not entirely whole. As if it doesn’t have a physical form.

Just a shadow itself.

Not sure how to proceed, I freeze. Waiting to see how this encounter is about to play out.

Then Aeron is releasing his magic towards the creature.

I’m shocked at what I see. The creature absorbed his magic. And is now bigger.

How can that be?

Shadowlings magic is fraught with danger. No one, nothing can withstand it.

Aeron has a formidable reputation not just for his fighting abilities but his magic as well. It is said to be worse than his Father’s. Torturing you. Tormenting you. Searing pain in your mind, body, and soul.

I don’t think, I just react.

Throwing my magic at it. My white flames filling the area.

The demon dodges my first flame but I quickly throw a second stream its way. Hitting its mark. The creature screeches in pain. It’s deafening to my ears. Causing me to falter and cover them.

I don’t know why but it certainly did not like being touched by my magic.

Anger flashes through the creature’s face. I prepare for another attack but it changes course.

Heading for Aeron.

I move but the creature is too fast. Dodging my magic once more.

Hearing Aeron hiss in pain, I look over. I see blood. His chest has been cut open. Three slashes mare his muscular chest.

He’s losing blood, too much blood.

He looks up at me. Our eyes meet and for the first time in a long time I am in fear. Fear of losing someone I care about.

It consumes me. I blast a gigantic amount of magic toward the demon. A wave of white flames and sparks of starlight with no hope of escape, as I run over to Aeron.

I take his arm and throw it over my shoulder. Placing my other hand on his stomach to help support him. Careful not to hit his wounds.

“Do you have the strength to teleport us?” I ask, remembering our previous encounters in the woods.

In a matter of seconds his magic engulfs us. A cloud of black smoke surrounds our bodies and we vanish. Reappearing in my chambers.