Many thought the Between was a place of mist and magic. But it had its own energy apart from Tanselm and the other fae worlds. The Between was its own space that didn’t subscribe to normal things like gravity or physics. Here, magic shaped everything.
I flew through the dark and through light, through monochromatic nothingness and into a brightly colored, lavender- and indigo-streaked sky, despite there being no sun or moon to ground me.
Trees grew from the ground that was not earth or rock but a flat surface for those with different magics to traverse. I liked clouds though, as did many others, so I navigated a sky dotted with fluffy white clouds, this area of the Between saturated with my magic.
Both Light and Dark, shadows of energy.
I entered the small, floating structure that served as my temporary home. Made of a hard substance that both protected and contained my magic, the cottage felt more like a small part of a larger estate, much like the tower room I’d left in Aelle.
In this place, I’d gathered enough odds and ends to remain comfortable if not content.
A large bed, a small desk, and a table and odd chairs sat in various spaces in my open living area. One aspect of this new home thrilled me. Light never seemed to go very far in the other parts of the Between, and the glorious darkness was filled with the untapped potential of great magic.
But not here, where I could bask in the light and not feel uncomfortable. Because most of this magic came from the opposite spectrums but became what I wanted it to be. A place where a Shadren could experience both Light and Dark without issue.
And speaking of Light… There, at my desk, studying some hastily “borrowed” scrolls I’d recently added to my growing collection, sat the yummy Aerolus Storm.
“Well, well, well.” I set foot on the plush carpet that served as the flooring in my comfortable shelter. “Aerolus Storm, as I live and breathe.”
He glanced up from my desk, a pinch of annoyance on his handsome face. His eyes glowed bright silver. And, as if I was back looking through the telescope, I felt a flash of lust sear me from head to toe as I stared at him.
“The woman in white.” He rose to an impressive height, only adding to his aura of power. “It’s time I stopped avoiding you, hmm?”
“Yes. It’s time we talked, Wind Mage.”
“My name is Aerolus, which you already know.” He circled the desk and approached until he stood a few feet away. The fact that he towered over me only irritated me further.
“By what name are you called, purie?”
Purie. Little one.
I scowled. “I’m no child.”
“I can see that.”
I didn’t know what to make of the look he shot me. “I’ve been waiting for a while, buddy. Do you have any idea what kind of trouble you’re in?”
He shook his head and took a step closer. “We’re always in trouble.”
“I’m sure you are.” I sniffed, wanting to be appeased. “I’d like to know why it took you so long to find me.” I crossed my arms, waiting.
He studied me like an intriguing species he’d recently discovered. I wanted to throw something, stamp my foot, scream in frustration. But I’d only look childish — the last thing I wanted to appear if I were to hold the upper hand.
For the past year, I’d watched Aerolus and knew his many moods. Right now, if we were back in Seattle, I had no doubt he’d do his best to pin me under a microscope for dissection. For some odd reason, he had yet to realize how lucky he was I paid any attention to him.
“You’re here,” he said bluntly, his voice a raspy seduction in itself. “You’re real.”
I frowned. “Yes. I’m here, and I’m real. Honestly, Aerolus, I’ve been waiting a long time to have this discussion. Frankly, I’m having doubts you’re worth the trouble.”
He was worth the trouble though, and that was part of the problem. The other part was this weird attraction that kept growing and showed no sign of stopping. The way he looked at me made my heart race. My body tingled, and I kept fantasizing about him being inside me.
A Light Bringer a part of me.
Unfortunately, knowing Aerolus, he wouldn’t suffer from unfulfilled desire but from an overabundance of scholarly enthusiasm. The man had shown little to no interest in sex for an entire year.
At least, until his performance this morning.
I flushed, hoping he credited my rosy cheeks with anger.
