He found the gesture enthralling and arousing but looked away. He’d already dismissed the idea of the two of them getting romantichere. Besides, the idea of having a joining instigated by an outside influence would probably disgruntle her. Maybe it should disgruntle him too, but it wouldn’t be the first time that it had happened. The memory of their joining in the desert while drugged by the cactus flowers came to him. That had been amazing.
“We’re hoping there’s a way we can allow the green dragon, Agrevlari, to come and go, the same as Wreylith is now allowed to,” Syla said to the artifact.
It pulsed, the light flaring a brighter silver for a moment. Then the imagery returned to Vorik’s mind, showing the same act of joining as before, though this time, he noticed their hands were clasped, pressed together against the wall as they enjoyed themselves. Vigorously. His groin tightened at the thought of emulating the vision, but he made himself focus. What was the artifact trying to tell them?
That was, he noted, his dragon-tattooed hand that was clasped to Syla’s moon-marked hand. Magic seemed to swirl in the air around their entwined fingers.
“That’s how we opened the door in the desert,” Vorik pointed out, assuming she continued to receive the same vision.
“I remember.”
Syla’s cheeks had grown pink, and she kept glancing at him. Was the vision putting randy thoughts into her mind too? If her version was as vivid as his, it would be hardnotto start getting ideas.
“Maybe,” she added, “it’s suggesting that by mingling our two types of magic, I could transfer what my link with Wreylith conveys, in regard to the shields, to you and your link with Agrevlari.”
“And we need to have sex for that mingling?”
“It’s notmyidea.”
“No. Your artifact is manipulating us.”
“Oh, I’m aware.” Syla gave it a tart look, but she also shifted her body more fully toward Vorik, pressing her chest against his.
A thrum of excitement coursed through him. Syla clasped his hand with hers and gazed up at him, her lips parting.
The heat of her body, the brush of her fingers, and the beauty of her full lips made his bodymorethan thrum. He grew hard and eager at the thought of celebrating all that they’d achieved—all that they’d lived through—with the woman he loved.
“Are you… willing to go along with its manipulation?” Vorik asked before presuming to kiss her.
Syla managed a smile. “For the good of your dragon, I must.”
Vorik snorted. “Agrevlari will be delighted to learn about the noble sacrifice you’re willing to make on his behalf.”
“Areyouwilling to go along with this?”
“I’malwayswilling and eager—most eager—to make love to you. Even if a salacious artifact is watching. I do wonder why it cares.”
“I think we were meant to bring our people together, Vorik.”
“By having sex?”
“By getting married.” She rested her free hand on his chest.
“Like Jhiton suggested?”
Her nose wrinkled at the mention of his name. Vorik made a note not to bring up his brother when they were on the verge of intimacy.
“If it could aid in an alliance,” was what Syla said, “one that brought a lasting peace to our people and offered all of humanity the protection of the gods… that was what they’ve always desired.”
Another vision wafted through Vorik’s mind. He and Syla were still naked, but they were flying away from the harbor and out to sea, he on Agrevlari’s back and she on Wreylith’s. They sailed through the barrier together without a hitch and headed off on some adventure.
“So manipulative,” he murmured.
“But it’s offering us what we want.”
“Everything we want,” he agreed and lowered his lips to hers.
Without hesitation, Syla shifted her hands and wrapped her arms around his shoulders as she returned the kiss. Eagerly. Yes, the visions had made her randy too.
