His head fell back and he let out a deep, soft sigh. She guided him back down to the sand and covered him, sliding over him, pressing, caressing, stroking until him until he gasped. Then she took human form and straddled him, sliding his length into her. He opened his eyes and held out his hands to her. With entwined fingers, she balanced on him as she moved up and down his flesh.
“I cannot decide—water or woman,” he whispered, pulling up and wrapping his arms around her to hold her close. The hair on his chest teased her breasts and made the tips tighten. She rocked her hips, sliding in and out a bit, waiting for him to take control.
He did not. He let her set the pace for their joining. And though she loved it when he thrust hard and deep, this easy pace suited her this night. Soren tilted his head and kissed along the fullness of her breasts. Lifting and arching her back, she pushed her breasts closer to his mouth.
He took one in his mouth and laved it with his tongue. The roughness made her ache deep inside. Each slide of his tongue brought about another throbbing within her core. And still he did not take her.
He slid his hands down around her arse and guided her rocking pace. This was the time when he would roll her on her back and fill her. Not this time.
“Are you anxious, Ran? Hurried?” he whispered against her neck as he kissed his way up to her ear, stopping several times to taste her mouth. “I like the gentle pace of the sea,” he teased.
Her body wanted to explode beneath him. Everything within her had tightened and tightened and now she wanted to come undone. She wanted the storm.
“Soren Stormblood,” she whispered. “Take me.”
In less time than she could have imagined, he changed into a storm, pushing her back and thrusting deep. His winds moved over her skin, their brisk chafing teasing her breast as his tongue had. She arched up to meet each thrust of his flesh. Ran could see him and then not, as he became something else, something human and yet not. Something more. Something different than he’d ever been.
“Ran Waterblood,” he called from within the winds. “Come with me.”
His voice turned her to water and she was held within the winds as they rose and rose into the sky. Lightning bolts coursed around them, each one shattered her until the water and winds reformed. Thunder rumbled through the skies as they, Stormblood and Waterblood merged into one.
Then they burst, together as the lightning struck again—water and wind, man and woman, Stormblood and Waterblood. Lovers until the next bolt that shattered them apart. Over and over, through the sky, on the sand, in the clouds and in the water, they became one and shattered, joined and shattered into pieces. Water and air mixed together, carried by the winds, across and in the sea, until, with a burst they fell apart, each falling back to the beach where it all began.
They lay on the beach, trying to ease their racing hearts. Soren reached over and took her hand, pulling her to him. Power rushed through her body, pushing through her veins and arteries, into her muscles and bone and marrow. When she looked at him, she could see he was filled with it, glowing silver even more than before.
“I do not know what happened, but I think that is how we will uncover the circle and defeat Hugh de Gifford.”
It was a long while before they spoke, and then Soren told her his plan. She understood that they or any of the warriors or their people could die in this endeavor. More than that, Ran understood that this battle was in her blood and connected now to her, their, powers.
By the time morning came and they parted, Ran knew that Soren was already a part of her as she’d left part of herself behind in him.
Marcus liked to pray in the dark silence of the night. Oh, he enjoyed the time of common prayer where his community of priests would gather and pray together. But there was something special about listening to the sounds only present in the dark.
So this night he walked several miles down the beach until he found the place where the gods wished him to be. The outcropping jetted north into the ocean and sat high up so he could see miles in all directions. Kneeling and closing his eyes, he began his ritual.
The silence was filled with words from the gods. He let them seep into his soul and sought the truth he needed to know from among the clamor of the messages.
He could feel the fear of his faithful priests. He felt the doubt of the other warriors.
He knew the dread that the other men felt, facing the coming battle with an evil they could not defeat in the way in which they were trained.
But those thoughts and fears and prayers were not what the gods had brought him here to see. The flashes of lightning sparking against the huge storm to the north was.
Pillars of clouds collided high in the sky, filled with wind and rain and lightning flashes and crashing thunder. As he watched the storm grew and circled the tidal island, Marcus understood what he was seeing.
The Waterblood and Stormblood had merged! Praise be! His soul cried out in joy at the sight of it and at being gifted by the gods to witness such a thing. In a way he could not have anticipated, the two had joined, not only their hearts and bodies but now their souls and spirits. Whatever strife had kept them apart had melted in the strength of their love.
Praise be!
As the storm, lightning, winds and rain dissipated, Marcus fell to the ground, prostrating himself and opening himself to the gods for their directions.
When morning came and a bright sun rose into a cloudless sky, Marcus understood what he must do. Returning to the camp, he went to the tent of the healers where Corann yet recovered from his ordeal with Lord Hugh. He waited in patience and prayer until his old friend opened his eyes and then he merged with him, sharing his thoughts.
Corann shook his head at what Marcus shared with him. Marcus smiled and nodded his head, leaning closer so none would hear.
“’Tis your time to step into your rightful place, my friend. The gods have declared my time is done.”
Corann struggled to speak, but his body had been so damaged that he could not. Marcus put his hand on Corann’s forehead and sent a burst of healing sleep into him.
