Von skimmed his fingers down her arms, and she shivered, her breath catching. He kissed along her shoulders, his fingers continuing to circle patterns on her flushed skin, roving over her collarbone and arms. He teased and stroked, whispering every wicked thing he planned to do to her.
He’d intended to play with her a little longer, but one heated plea from Yavi was all it took to roll her onto the blanket and strip her bare. They became lost in each other, letting go of all else but the embers created between them. Diving deep with a frenzied need to become one as they moved together, rippling waves of pleasure searing into his heart. It was always within her arms where the world, at last, felt right, and there was nothing but the fire created between them.
If he could, he would choose to burn with her forever.
When the last tremors faded, he eased Yavi onto his chest. He stroked her back, her arms, her hair, memorized every part of her, desiring for a different life where his dream could be a reality. Where they were free of chains.
If only, if only.
The vast shimmering night sky was his only well. A never ending deep blue that gazed upon the world. Wishing upon stars was for the desperate or the wistful. For those who had nothing else but fragile hope.
Closing his eyes, Von held his love close and made a wish.
* * *
The next day, Von stood before Tarn in his tent, giving his daily report on their progress to the Port of Azure and about a message that arrived from Bouvier. He’d sent the spy to Beryl Coast to find intel on the whereabouts of another Sacred Scroll. But Tarn didn’t seem to be listening. His pale gaze fixed dazedly on the blood-red Crystal Core hanging from the tent ceiling, among the other wards and charms. Sweat beaded his forehead. It seeped through the creases of his clothes, even though it was bitterly cold outside.
“Master?” Von called for the third time. He reached out. “Master—”
Tarn caught his wrist with lightning speed, and his pale eyes sharped. “Do nottouchme.”
“Pardon.” Von stepped back. “You were gone for a moment.”
Tarn leaned forward in his chair. His white-blond hair curtained around the sharp angles of his face as he rubbed his forehead. “I was not. I’m fine.”
“Master, the Witch’s Brew wasn’t meant to be taken this long. You haven’t slept for years and it’s beginning to take its toll.” Von swallowed when those icy blue eyes narrowed on him. His primary role as a life-servant was to protect his master. “Your body needs rest. I will post men outside of the tent and guard you myself day and night so you may sleep. I fear if you take the potion any longer, it may have repercussions.”
Standing, Tarn went to a trunk set at the base of his unused bed and pulled out a dark gray tunic. He removed his sodden shirt, exposing the pale jagged scars all over his body.
“Neither gods nor men would ever persuade me to leave myself that vulnerable,” Tarn said as he slid on the clean tunic. “Suggest it again, and I will kill you right here in this dismal place.”
Von bowed his head, holding in a sigh. “Yes, Master.”
“I will rest once I have the Unending.” Tarn went to the table and poured himself a glass of wine. He pulled out the vial of potion from his pocket to find it empty. He inhaled a sharp breath and pressed on his eyes. “Bring me more.”
“Right away. I believe they should be finished by now—”
The Forewarning Crystal announced Len’s arrival before she slipped inside. On a silver tray, she carried a new vial full of shimmering black liquid laying on a velvet cloth. Bringing it before Tarn, she bowed with a small smile hovering on the corners of her mouth. But he took the vial without so much as looking at her, and it faded. Len was a simple girl. All she wanted from him was an acknowledgment, but Von had long learned not to expect anything from their master.
Tarn poured a few drops of Witch’s Brew into his cup and swallowed it to the dregs.
“Leave me,” he ordered. They bowed and turned to go, but his sharp gaze locked on Len, and he snatched the white item sticking out of her pocket. “What is this?”
The blood left her face. She backed away as Tarn unfolded the crumpled piece of paper. Every angle of his face hardened.
Von glanced at the contents on the page, and a coldness fell over him. It was the King’s notice declaring slavery abolished in Azure, the one he had crumpled and thrown behind him in the Blue Capital–leaving for Len to pick up.
“You wish to forsake me, Len?” Tarn asked, his voice too calm. He stalked after her, and pure fear washed through her features as she stumbled backward through the entrance. “Have I not been good to you?”
Len dropped to her knees before him, bowing until her head touched his boots.
“I fed you, clothed you, and trained you. Yet you conspire against me.”
Len’s tears pebbled in the dirt, stunning Von. No matter how wounded she’d been, he’d never seen her cry. The Raiders gathered, watching within the recesses between the tents. Novo jerked forward, but Elon held him back.
Len clung to Tarn’s legs, shaking her head. For the first time since Tarn bought her, Von heard her speak.
“Nan,”she said in the language of Versai. The sound of her voice rang clear in the shocked silence.“Samajuni arajuk, Fasa.”
