Light Wielder (Fire & Metal, #2) — Chapter 39

Chapter 39

ACKER

She directs the beam of light from her hands into the waves cresting over her feet, turning the water from turquoise to liquid gold. The ripples bending and breaking on the surface send refracting shards of light back at Jovie, illuminating her in the same whirling glow.

She’s breathtaking as she walks into the ocean, letting her gift warm the water enough for her to swim, which she’s obviously missed deeply. I feel her joy through the Bond, the kind of happiness that aches a little.

The same kind I feel every time I look at her.

When she dives under an incoming wave and emerges on the other side, it’s like a miniature sun darting through the turbulent waters. Concern has me rooted in place, watching avidly as she swims through the churning waves to reach calmer swells before turning onto her back with her arms outstretched at her sides. But as she floats, I don’t need the Bond to reveal how her worries have eased as her body goes lax, cradled by the water. Still glowing like a sprite.

The iron in Fredrich’s blood signifies his presence to me before I hear his footsteps along the pathway behind me.

“I sent the staff away with bonus pay,” he says, coming to stand at my side.

“Enough for them to keep their mouths shut?” The last thing we need is one of the servants trying to curry favor with my father by exposing our presence here.

“Plenty,” he says. “Plus, I may have hinted that we know where their families live.”

“Good,” I tell him, my tone clearly a dismissal; I want to observe my Match in peace.

But when he doesn’t leave, I turn my head to look at him, sensing there’s more he wants to say. His eyes are fixated on Jovie, and I have to quell the desire to demand he avert his eyes. She’s not doing anything scandalous, but it’s such a private moment for her, and I don’t feel he deserves to witness it. Hell, I don’t believe I do either.

“That look on her face,” he says, voice somber. “When she heard the ocean … That was the same look she had when she heard of your arrival in Maile.”

If his intention was to wound me, it works. There’s a sharp, twisting pain in my gut as I process his words. The realization that she came to me on the wharf, hoping for the same comfort the ocean gives her, only to find disappointment and heartache instead.

“Ace, we don’t know what the future holds.” His gaze shifts to me, a sharpness in his eyes that I haven’t seen for many years, not since we were the last from our camp to survive the surprise attack by Roison. “And you’re wasting time.”

Wasting time doing what? But even as I ponder it, I already know.

We’ve yet to experience the worst of this war. I need to return to the palace and handle my father. Instead, I’m trying to score an alliance with a man I despise just to appease Jovie when I’d prefer to eliminate Kai from the entire situation. He’d be one less unknown variable in an ever-shifting war.

But Jovie … I want her by my side.

And if this is the compromise I need to make to ensure she fights with me and not against me, then I’ll do it.

Fredrich heads back to the cottage and leaves with the warning hanging over my head, as I watch Jovie get reacquainted with something she used to resent. It’s almost as if the water is embracing her with open arms after all this time apart, having missed her, too.

I understand what it’s like to have despised something—or someone, rather—only to later recognize the error. Time does funny things to one’s perspective. The four years following Jovie’s betrayal have felt like a never- ending nightmare, but the sting of her betrayal is beginning to feel like a

distant memory, as if simply being around Jovie again has lessened its potency.

I watch her for hours and its nearly nightfall when her light finally dims, magic spent. She all but crawls out of the water and lays on the sand, the surf licking at her ankles for a long while more. I know she’s freezing and tired, and I also know any attempt to help her up the cliffside steps would be met with hostility. So, instead, I head back to the cottage to prepare one of the spare bedrooms and fill the porcelain tub overlooking the ocean, ready for her return.

It‘s another hour until she pushes through the gate leading to the back of the house. She follows the limestone path to the rear entrance of the cottage, soaking wet and shivering. She barely takes in the plush furniture and rugs once inside, venturing out of the parlor toward the butler’s quarters where I’m sitting at the base of the stairs watching her underneath the flickering sconces lining the wall of the stairwell.

I raise my bowl of soup. “The maidservants left a pot simmering on the stove before they went home.”

She eyes my bowl, the steam billowing up invitingly, but doesn’t move.

“Poisoned?”

I smile despite her attempt at a joke falling flat, the deadened tone of her voice giving away just how exhausted she is. “You’re welcome to take a bowl to your room if you’d like.” I jerk my head in the direction of the stairs. “Bath is getting colder by the minute.”

Lifting a singular brow, she pins me in place with her eyes, as if to warn me against making any hasty movements as she trudges forward. Her stomach rumbles loud enough for me to hear and I bite my lip in an effort to hide my smile. She sees it anyway and, before I can even blink, snatches the bowl from my hands with more agility than I thought her capable of, stomping around me and up the stairs without another word.

I yell at her retreating back, “Second door on the right.”

Her harrumph sounds something like an acknowledgment, and then the slam of the door shutting behind her echoes down the stairs.

Leaning against the banister, I feel for the iron in the blood of Irina and Fredrich, each in their own respective rooms. Judging by the sharper pull of Fredrich’s, I’d say he’s at least a bottle deep into whatever liquor he swiped from my father’s bar. But Irina’s is slow and steady as she lies unmoving,

having gone to bed hours ago. She didn’t have a lot to say after stopping me from immediately following Jovie when she ran for the cliff’s edge. But once we were inside, a smile graced Irina’s face for the first time in a long time as she moved into the parlor at the back of the cottage where she observed Jovie swimming from the floor to ceilings windows overlooking the beach.

It takes some time before I feel Jovie’s blood slow its pace, exhaustion giving way to contentment as she drifts off to sleep. She’s been working herself to depletion, but her dreams are thankfully nonexistent. Her restlessness was keeping me up all night along with her.

I’m able to sense her more deeply than I ever have before. Four years ago, her emotions were little more than a trickling stream down the tether.

Now, it’s as deep and steady as a river. As if a dam broke at some point in the years we were apart and the current can’t be tamed any longer. But instead of it crippling her, it’s somehow made her stronger.

The next few days continue in exactly the same way.

Having stolen one of my father’s swords from the mantle, Jovie spends her days down at the beach. She runs through drills and repetitions before moving on to exercising her magic. She uses it to warm the water around her as she swims, sometimes sending the flaming balls of light skimming over the water, into the cliffside, or straight into the air before releasing them into explosions of raining light. Others she’ll direct into the sword, making the iron red hot as she works through her movements.

I like to pour a glass of dark liquor and take a seat in the parlor as the sun begins to set to watch the show. The steel in her hand sings to me from all the way down at the beach. I can practically feel the heat of her light through the metal, almost as if her magic is flowing through mine. It’s incredible to witness.

I tell her as much when she comes inside on the fourth night when she attempts to take the bowl of stew from my hand and pass me on the stairs like she’s done every night since we arrived at the cottage. But I don’t let her get away with it tonight, pulling the food out of her reach.

Her glare is a threat all of itself.

Instead, I place the bowl on the step behind me before calling the sword in her hand to mine, jerking the weapon from her grasp. It’s warm to the touch. Almost too warm, the hilt stinging the skin of my palm as I rotate it.

“The last light wielder commanded each of the four main elements,” I say, placing the sword over the bend of my knee. “It seems you already favor metal.”

Jovie’s gaze flicks over me, the sword in my lap, before sweeping up the stairs leading to the bedrooms upstairs, obviously debating how much she’s willing to entertain me. I don’t give her the option, impaling the sword at an angle into the tread of the stair beside me, blocking her ascent in the narrow stairwell.

Her expression is equal parts annoyance and exhaustion as she gives me her full attention, although begrudgingly. “What do you want, Acker?”

Standing, I move down a step, closing the last of the space separating us. The new position makes her tilt her head back to maintain eye contact with me. Her hair is plastered against the side of her neck, the dark strands escaping her braid are stark against her frigid skin. Water drips from the tendrils, coasting over her pulse, and my mouth is suddenly very dry.

“Do you remember our first kiss?” I ask her.

She’s wary of my intentions, but nods. “Yes.”

So very slowly, I reach up and unstick the unruly strands with the pinch of my fingers. Goosebumps spread across her exposed skin. Her gaze jumps between mine; hesitation combined with expectation shines back at me.

Understandably, considering the kiss in the tavern, when I all but laid myself bare at her feet. Then the day in the dovecote when I tried to force her to admit that she loved me.

I’ve never been able to think straight when it comes to her.

But as she reaches between us, hands splaying across the expanse of my chest to brace herself, I think … maybe she can’t think straight when it comes to me either.

I trail the tips of my fingers to the edge of her jaw, down to the point of her chin. “It was as if I could feel your light like it was my own.”

She licks her lips. “I could sense the metal in the ground for miles,” she says.

I angle her face up to mine, desperate to taste her lips. But I don’t want to push her this time. I want her to come to me. And as her gaze lingers on my mouth, she leans in, barely an inch away when she stops. Neither of us move for a long beat, our breaths meeting between us in expectation before I accept that a kiss isn’t going to happen. Not until she’s ready.

“If Kai doesn’t agree to the alliance,” I ask, dragging my thumb up and over her bottom lip. “What will you do?”

My question seems to drag her out of a fog, eyes slowly gaining clarity.

“You mean, who will I choose?” she asks, tone hardening. “As if I owe you my blind allegiance after you’ve literally kidnapped and held me hostage.”

Then, in a move I’m unprepared for, she grabs the front of my shirt in a fist and yanks me toward her with all of her might. In an effort to save both of us from careening down the stairs, I latch onto the banister. It works, but I stumble back a step, and there’s no chance of saving the bowl as it topples down the stairs, sending its contents splashing onto the floor below.

I’ve barely righted myself when I realize Jovie has maneuvered past the sword and is already halfway up the stairs. Turning, I lunge forward to snag her by an ankle and she falls forward, catching herself on her hands. She kicks out with her spare leg, and I jerk her toward me so her foot swings wide, just shy of my head.

“Stop,” I tell her, crawling over her and covering her with my weight, pressing her more firmly into the steps.

She doesn’t listen, grunting as she attempts to buck me off. Futile, considering the current level of her exhaustion. And, after a long moment, she seems to come to the same conclusion, and her body goes slack beneath mine.

I brace myself with hands on the tread of stairs on either side of her head, chest tight from exertion. “You can’t honestly tell me that bastard deserves your loyalty more than I do.” There’s no disguising the disbelief in my voice, the anger simmering inside of me at the notion.

“You don’t get it,” she says, voice cracking.

The raw emotion stuns me, lancing through my chest like a wooden arrow straight from the tether. I hurry to lift my weight from her back, but

she makes no attempt to escape.

My breath hitches. “Jovie…”

After a moment, she flips onto her back, and I’m relieved to see there’s anger in her gaze and not tears when she looks up at me. “I think I knew I would fall in love with you before we even left Alaha, Acker,” she says, frustration giving way to determination. “I’ve always chosen you.”

Her words hurt just as much as they’re soothing. Somehow painful and healing at the same time. There’s a sense of relief muddled with the

adrenaline of our scuffle. My heart rate is elevated; the blood flowing through my veins grows hot at the untamed look in her eyes, as if finally admitting the truth has allowed the desire she’s been suppressing to break through.

The heat in my veins turns into a blazing fire. Slowly, I lower my body once again, and our synchronized intakes of air when my weight fully presses down on her are sharp in the empty stairwell. I take it as an invitation to push my knee between her thighs and she opens them willingly, letting me sink into the space.

I sink my face into the curve of her neck, running my mouth over her damp skin. “Gods, I’ve missed you.”

I drag my mouth up to close the final gap, covering her mouth with mine. I groan as she immediately accepts my touch, mouth pliable and soft, her tongue eager to meet mine. Everything from the way her back arches from the stairs, chest pressed against mine, to the angle of her hips when she feels the hardness pressing between her legs tells me she’s missed this just as much as I have.

Her warmth becomes all-encompassing. As we kiss, her hands rake across the skin exposed at the open collar of my shirt, the sensation echoing down the tether. Her gift radiates from within her, and when I somehow find it in me to pull back from her lips, I’m as in awe as I am desperate to feel the ethereal glow of her illuminated skin against mine.

Instantly, Jovie’s fingers reach for the buttons of my shirt, pulling apart the material with hasty tugs at the fabric, and I realize she must have seen the thought in my mind through the Bond. Our kissing turns biting, hands working in tandem to take off each other’s clothes, mouths separating just long enough to get the material of her shirt over her head. I wrap an arm around her middle and a pleased moan escapes her mouth when I pull her body flush to mine. The feeling of her body pressing flat against my bare chest seems to be her final undoing. Mine, when her hands shove insistently at the waistline of my pants. I reach between us to free myself, wanting to end the prolonged and agonizing suffering we’ve endured, when a voice

comes from below.

“Well, what do we have here?”

Jovie and I both freeze, eyes wide as we realize we aren’t alone, that Messer is here, having returned from his second visit to see Kai.

“This is an interesting development,” he says, smugness evident in his tone of voice.

I sit back on my haunches and look over my shoulder at the shifter below. “You’re back early.”

Messer stands with a hip cocked against the bottom banister; a smirk firmly planted on his face. “I can come back later. How long do you need, Ace? Three minutes? Four, tops?”

Gritting my teeth, I return my gaze on Jovie as she pulls the front of her shirt closed, the light fading from her eyes … quite literally.

“Messer,” she warns, exasperated.

His responding chuckle grates on my nerves, and I think of the multitude of ways I could murder her friend. She shakes her head at my internal musing as she begins to re-button her shirt. Or rather, do up the buttons that are left attached. I cuss at my painfully hard situation as I adjust myself. Fucking Messer.

But it’s the sudden spike of emotion coming through the tether that has my eyes focusing on Jovie as I try to shove my cock back into my pants.

Her gaze snaps up to meet mine, cheeks turning ruddy at having been caught watching me struggle. She tries to cover it by scowling at me, but all it serves to do is bring a grin to my face.

“There’s no need to hide from me, Jovie. I can feel the want, hot in your veins,” I tell her, planting a hand beside her head once again. “Let me show you.”

I haven’t pushed my emotions through, knowing the last time I exposed my inner self to her was too overwhelming. But, as I tilt her chin up with a finger to bring our mouths back together, I hold her gaze and silently ask for permission. She’s skeptical at first, but nods her assent, and I let the flood of raging need funnel through the tether toward her. Her responding gasp only adds fuel to the fire, and my eyes fall closed at the potent feeling of her lust mixing with mine.

She melts underneath me. It’s raw, reducing us to our basest level, and almost too much, with nothing aside from the two of us mattering.

Inescapably honest in our truest form.

I angle her face to the side in a bid to swallow her moans whole. The need to be inside of her is all-consuming, dangerously so as she once again reaches for the front of my pants, hand coasting along my hastily covered

cock and I’m moments away from pulling myself out again when Messer’s voice interrupts us. Again.

I don’t fully comprehend what he’s said, and my voice comes out more like a growl when I snap, “What?”

“Listen, you can proceed with … all of this … as soon as I relay a message.” While his tone is teasing, there’s a serious note that has me listening intently. “I’m back early to warn you that Kai is also arriving early.”

“How early?” I ask, eyes soaking in the beautiful blush on Jovie’s cheeks as it mixes with the soft glow of her magic.

“Tomorrow,” he says.

Mother. Fucker.

His words are instantly effective at cooling my blood and dimming Jovie’s light, her face falling at the realization we don’t have days before Kai’s arrival, but mere hours. I don’t want to read too much into her trepidation, but it’s unmistakable through the Bond.

Messer’s voice echoes back to us as he moves further down the corridor.

“What’s with the beef stew everywhere?”