Page 181 of Commanding Flame and Shield
“Reyna prizes cleverness,” I explained. “If Freya can best her, and her defenses, it will demand a certain level of respect.”
“Freya is alsountarnished,” Aren didn’t hide the way the word repelled him as he continued, “which she will value as well.” Aren’s face went solemn and thoughtful. “Reyna…likes rules. Traditions.”
“Staunch old bitch, and you know it,” Ansel spat from across the room. Aren’s lips twisted in a smirk, but he stifled his laughter. Others did not, and I chuckled despite myself.
“Even so,” Aren conceded. “Your heir will be more welcome than I am.”
Ansel gave a quick nod of approval and then relaxed back into his cushion. Being sedentary was exhausting him far more than battle ever had. Fae and Lana were on either side of him, noses glued to their books. The fire gave a great pop and skitter as an ember burst, and the pieces settled.
“You two will track down our cousins in the North—find Thornquist and his clan of shifters. Alec and Fae will connect with Marcus—I’ll send word for them to prepare. When the rest are healed, Ansel and Lana will head to the west to find Nathara and her coven.”
“Aren. Are you sure about bringing her into the fold? It’s Nathara. Her coven believes that they're witches.”
“What we can do is not all that different from magic, is it?” Aren countered, brows raised.
“No, it’s not,” August agreed, too quickly.
“It’s our best plan to start. Nat might not be…orthodox, but she will ally with the light if, and when, the time comes.”
“I will choose to trust your intuition.” A concession from a second, to my Commander. Nathara and her witches brewed potions and tinctures and whipped up life-saving poultices like the best in Grayshell. But they also burned sage to cleanse the energy—why not dispatch the fuckers?—and charged crystals in the sun and moon, engaging in most forms of new age sorcery. The fact that they proudly claimed the title ofwitchover Nephilim had always rubbed me the wrong way, as had their dedication to staying earth side, rather than existing in the Middle Realms with the rest of us. They had a shadowed counterpart that fought for territory in the South, and that fact stuck like an arrow in my chest.
I hesitated, but still asked, “Are you going to thePaladins?” I had tried, but the mocking tone was involuntary. Aren’s smirk, laced with equal amusement and shadow, was worth it.
“We will sooner have a snowball fight in Hell, than get Reyna to stand with the Paladins.”
We would sooner have a snowball fight in Hell than have the Paladins stand withus.
Something in me stirred. A thread, I realized, faint and shadowed…pulling on…Aren. I narrowed my eyes at him, prompting the vision forward, and receiving a flash of the bluest eyes I'd ever seen, framed by onyx hair, but the image dissolved. Whether it had not solidified yet, or I simply wasn’t meant to receive it, I wasn’t sure.
“Aren,you’resupposed to be the one to go West, if I’m reading this right.”
Aren had always found the witch clans amusing, if nothing else. He honored Nathara as their Commander—their “high priestess”—and she had always been well tempered and hospitable towards us. Even so, the idea of Aren marching into crawler territory on the west coast, alone, didn’t settle well with me, so I added, “I would prefer Ansel and Lana accompany you. But it seems to be you, that needs to go west. No one else.” He asked no questions, pried no further as he could see in my mind, I had no details to give him. Aren simply nodded.
“Looks like I'm heading west then.”
EIGHTY-FOUR
PORCELAIN
AUGUST
“Sooooo….” My mouth went dry, words ceasing to exist.
Alvara was sprawled across the bed on her stomach, perched on her elbows when I came back into our lake house bedroom. My heart skittered, and my fingers fumbled to keep a hold of my phone, which had been halfway into my pocket. I heaved a breath and commanded my heart to steady. She had draped our green satin sheet across her backside, but that was it. The full length of her ivory legs peeked out from under the thin fabric. Alvara had always been breathtaking. Damnably perfect, I had known she couldn’t be human even in those initial dreams.
Her freshly washed hair was drying in thin rings across her bare shoulders. Above the smell of the new almond and poppyseed shampoo, the full scent of her desire hit me like a battering ram. I gulped down the animal instinct to tear that thin fabric from her skin and have my way with her, claim her as mine. It only dropped as far as my throat. Whatever crossed my expression brought an amused smile to her face. She tousled her wet hair, and another wave of that sweet almond oil greeted my senses.
“Is he going to come?” She raised a provocative brow and I swallowed thickly. She smirked and then added, "To the wedding?” I remained speechless. She turned and the sunlight struck her features, emerald eyes glimmering in it, and overflowing with mirth. I blinked, trying to clear my head and remember what in the hell I had been coming in to say. What I had just been doing…
“Uh yeah.” I blinked, and then shook my head, mirroring the smirk on her face before adding, “He and Sam both. I about gave mum a stroke, but they’re buying tickets tonight.”
That coy grin returned to her face, and she rolled to her side. The movement freed her beautiful tight breasts, and peaked nipples. That surge of energy climbed back up my throat as she reached her long hand for me. My own hunger to taste every delicious inch of her rippled through my body.
Only that time, I didn’t bother to force it back down.
* * *
There wasnothing routine or ordinary about the beachfront mansion the coven had acquired years back. According to Ally, the grand estate had cost an absurd amount of money for any mortal to acquire, and an equally absurd sum to furnish the damn thing. But I’d hand it to Aren, it was magnificent.
