“Without knocking, but we won’t go in there while I remain powerless.” His thumb hovered at her jaw, hesitant, possessive. “You still have what is mine.”
Her pulse kicked.
The bond coiled tight.
Rune leaned in, his voice dropped to a predator’s murmur. “Give it back to me, Alora.”
“But I don’t know how,” she whispered.
His mouth curved, dark and almost reverent. “That’s all right. I do.” He brushed the hair from her temples as she looked up at him. She didn’t recoil when he cupped her face. A smallsmile hovered on the corners of his mouth and his voice dropped to a seductive murmur. “All you need to do is surrender to me…”
That’s what she had been fighting this whole time.
Surrendering to this god who wanted all of her. Brazenly. It was a terrifying thought, to give herself to another. Overwhelming to believe that at last there was someone who wanted her, despite who she was and the danger she presented. Rune didn’t care. He asked for surrender because as he looked at her now, he was ready to do the same.
Alora leaned into his touch with a sigh.
And her husband kissed her.
The moment their lips touched, the power unraveled.
It poured from her into him, warm and electric. Magic rushed between their mouths like breath shared between drowning souls. A dark mist surged out of her with a gasp, racing over him ink spilling through water.
Rune’s power flow through the bond and the shadowssang.
His mouth crashed against hers like hunger masquerading as a kiss, heat and light surging between their lips. A force rose inside of herself, an ancient and electric power, pouring out of her chest into him in molten threads.
Rune’s hands tightened on her waist as if he meant to devour every last drop. Her strength waned, as if he took that too. He tore himself away, breath ragged, eyes burning red as coals. Molten markings pulsed on his skin. She panted for air, bewildered by the rush of magic and dazed by the consuming kiss. The mortal man had vanished beneath the rise of god. He glowed, as if his power had somehow heightened now that it returned.
They stared at each other, dazed, pupils blown wide, caught between want and fear. For a heartbeat neither of them moved, both wondering what in the Seven was that.
“Are you all right?” he asked, his voice ragged.
She nodded breathlessly.
“Thank you,” Rune whispered, lips grazing hers. Then he turned toward the doors. “I’ll take it from here.”
He headed for the entrance, his black armor and scarlet cloak taking form as he climbed the steps. She bit her lip, holding back a smile at the striking power that fit him so well. But the gigantic statues moved, rock groaning as their spears braced like warnings against eternity.
“Rune!” Alora shouted in warning.
His answering smirk was all sharp teeth and feral amusement. With a swipe of his hand, shadows swept out.
Two black lashes of power snapped through the air, and the stone watchers lost their heads. The massive skulls crashed down, shattering the steps in a thunder of ancient ruin. Alora gasped, stumbling, but Rune hauled her against his chest. Shadows wrapped around them, a living shield as dust and debris rained down.
When the ground settled, his voice slid into her ear, smooth and merciless.
“Go on, songbird,” he murmured. “Whatever madness awaits will contend with me.”
Alora swallowed and she approached the massive doors. When she pushed, they groaned open with a sound like a dying beast exhaling its last breath, and cold air swept out from the abyss within. Nexus paused by her feet, his meow echoing out.
Alora stepped inside and the world shifted.
The chamber yawned open in a vast shaft. Thin slivers of daylight spilled down like divine fingers from the open dome above, but even sunlight dimmed as it neared the ground below. As though something within devoured brightness on sight.
And carved into the walls were more statues. Three times bigger than the watchers at the doors.
The Primordials.
