Just her body, the shape of her, those sleek muscles under smooth skin. The sound of her—breath and sigh and soft, soft moan. And her taste, so hot and sweet.
She struggled up, fast hands, quick legs, to straddle him, and starlight caught in the crown of her hair like diamonds.
She took him in, fast and deep, her hands pressed to her own breasts as the first wave of ecstasy swamped her.
Then she rode, free and wild, starlight on her skin, dark triumph in her eyes.
He gripped her hips, clinging to her and some last thread of sanity.
And she lifted her arms high, crying out in that same dark triumph.
Flames shimmered at her fingertips, tiny pinpoints of light that flashed, bright and blinding as the sun. Stunned by them, bewitched by her, he held on—and he let go.
***
IN THE DARK, IN THE DREAM, SHE REACHED FOR HIM.
“Do you hear that? Do you hear that?”
“It’s just the wind.”
“No.” The woods were so thick, the night so black. Where was the moon? Why was there no moon, no stars?
And with a shudder, she understood. “It’sinthe wind.”
Her name, the seductive pull of the whisper. A stroke of silk on bare skin.
“You need to sleep.”
“But I am. Aren’t I?”
When she shivered again, he rubbed her chilled hands between his. “We should have a fire.”
“It’s so dark. It’s too dark, too cold.”
“I know the way home. Don’t fret now.”
He began to guide her, through the trees, away from the little licks of fog that flicked, sly as the tongue of a snake, along the ground.
“Don’t let go,” she said as the whisper slid and stroked over her skin.
“The way’s blocked, do you see?” He gestured to the thick branches blocking the path. “I’ll need to move them before we can get through.”
“No!” On a spur of panic, she gripped his hand tighter. “It’s what he wants. Just like before, to separate us. We have to stay together. We have to hold on.”
“The way’s blocked, Iona.” He turned her now, looked into her eyes. His were dark gold, intense, unwavering. “We should have a fire.”
“The fog’s closer. Can you hear it?”
The wolf now, just the faintest growl through the black, through the fog.
“I hear it. Fire, Iona. It’s what we need.”
Fire, she thought. Against the dark, against the cold.
Fire. Of course.
She threw her arms out, out, lifted her face up. And called it.
