Eunny turned away, only to look back once more. “And Bioon? If you ever try to manipulate me again, or threaten Auntie Yerina, I will become your daughter. I’ll fight as fucking dirty as you do.” She held up her hand and summoned a palmful of light. “Remember that I never really lost my magic. That I have it and you don’t. I’m the Healer Who Hurts, and I won’t think twice about hurting you, Mother.”
“Are you done?” Bioon said, her bored tone too forced to be authentic. “We sail within the hour.”
Eunny turned, catching the eye of the lead guard responsible for escorting the Coalition to the docks and seeing them into Graelynd’s custody. She nodded once, walking away from her mother without looking back.
“Are you okay?” Ollas asked as she stepped into his waiting arms.
“Never better,” she said. “Just dumping some old baggage.”
Ollas draped his arm around her, shivering dramatically as he squeezed her close. “Can we go inside? It’s freezing out here, and Yerina made those melty cheese bun things.”
Eunny laughed, letting him steer her back toward the café. “We leave for Rhell in a few days, to spend most of the winter in the north. This is nothing.”
“It’s a good thing I’ll have you to keep me warm.”
“What happened to worshipping at the Altar of Song?” Eunny said with mock indignation. “Goddesses don’t do all the work.”
“I will happily do the work.” Ollas kissed the side of her head, lips lingering by her ear. “We’ll both be nice and warm, I promise.”
With a big, silly grin on her face, Eunny took him by the hand and pulled him back into her shop.
Epilogue
Despite a few trying moments of late, Ollas still considered himself something of an optimist. Usually, being a believer didn’t steer him astray. Not too badly, at least.
“Are you sure?” Eunny held the last word, laughter and a hint of a challenge in her tone. “I can amuse myself until you get back.”
Ollas glanced at the wall clock. He had to squint to read the fancy indicators so many Rhellian timekeepers favored. Both the design of the face and the hands leaned more toward art than practicality. “I’ve got time.”
Always. He’d always have time for his personal goddess. Would make it, if necessary. When she was tense or frustrated about her renewed relationship with magic, he was there. A shoulder to lean on, or a hand to hold in quiet support. And the days when she needed to vent about the latest change Gransen had made in the running of the repair café? Ollas lent his ear.
And for mornings such as this, when Eunny felt a particular sort of hunger an hour—less than, actually, if he’d read the clock correctly—before his first day of teaching at Triune, Rhell’s premier college? He could offer her a few options of amenable body parts for perusal. The advantages of faculty housing and a small campus.
“The building’s not too far from here.” Ollas slipped his tunic over his head. “I’ll run.” The rest of his clothes joined the tunic on the floor.
Eunny scoffed with mild disbelief. It didn’t stop her from rummaging in the nightstand for a contraceptive potion. “Showing up late, sweaty, and out of breath on your first day. Your students will be aghast.”
“I won’t be la-late.” His breath caught as she took him firmly in hand and pulled him closer to the bed.
With very little prompting, Ollas tumbled to the mattress. No sooner had he rolled onto his back than Eunny straddled him. She still wore her night slip. Only her night slip, he couldn’t help but notice, as she slowly ground against him. How she slid. Clearly, someone had already been amusing herself this morning while Ollas went about his final prep work. Not that he was complaining. Besides, he rather liked the garment. It draped over her frame, the material so soft, so sheer, that it left nothing to imagination.
“Remind me again how you got out of having anything to do with a class focusing on growing our seeds?” Ollas asked, his hands settling on her hips.
“I don’t teach.” Eunny reached for the bottle of lubricant and put a few drops on her fingers. “And it’s not nothing. I’ll be there once you’re doing the hands-on stuff.”
“Sure, but they’re?—”
She wrapped her fingers around his cock and gave it a rough pump.
Ollas moaned. “That was mean.”
“I didn’t sign myself up for school. Again.” Eunny ran her thumb over his cockhead, smearing the bead of pre-come gathered at the tip. “Any more questions, Professor?”
He shook his head.
“Good boy.” She leaned down to press her lips against his in a deceptively gentle kiss. “I’ll be quick. Since you’re in a rush.”
“You don’t need to?—”
