The thought hits me like a wave, overwhelming and undeniable.Butjust as quickly as it begins—my body responding eagerly to his—he pulls back.
“No,” he says, his voice rough, strained.“Don’t, little one.”
I blink at him, dazed and confused, my lips still burning from his kiss, my body still leaning toward his.
“Why now?”Iwhisper.
His jaw tightens and he drags a hand through his hair, stepping back as though putting distance between us is the only way he can think straight.
“We can’t,” he says.“MyDrakeis too close to the surface right now.Hewants you too much.”Hisgaze drops to mine, burning.“Webothdo.”
The words send a shiver through me, even as my body throbs in protest.Theneed is still there—stronger than ever, curling low in my belly, making it hard to think and even hard to breathe.
The curse is riding me hard now, urging me forward, whispering thatIdon’t have to wait, thatIcan take whatIwant.
But somewhere beneath it,Iknow he’s right.Ifwe go too far now…if we lose control…
“I understand,”Isay softly, though it takes everything in me to take a step back.Imiss his warmth as soon asIdo.Thespace between us feels cold and wrong.
He exhales slowly, like he’s forcing himself to calm down.
“Did you get the feather?”
The question snaps me back to reality.
“The feather!”Ireach up at once, my fingers tangling in my curls.Forone horrible second,I’mafraid it’s gone—torn free during the fall—but thenIfeel it there, caught securely in the thick strands of my hair.
Relief floods through me.
“I have it,”Isay, carefully pulling it free.It’sjust as long as before, gleaming faintly in the dappled light of the clearing.
The moment it’s free in my hand something appears in the air in front of me.
I gasp whenIsee it—it’s one of the crystal orbs.Ithovers there, just as it did above theGrimoire—clear and perfect, stoppered with a small, glowing cork.Itpulses faintly, as though aware of the feather in my hand.
“Oh,”Ibreathe.
Carefully,Ireach out and take it.Itfeels solid and cool in my fingers, though it hums faintly with magic.Myheart is still racing asIpull the stopper free and slide the long feather inside.Andeven though the feather is much bigger than the crystal container, somehow it fits.
The moment the stopper seals again, the orb flares with light.Foran instant, it glows so brightlyIhave to squint.Thefeather inside seeming to dissolve into pure radiance.Thenthe light softens, fades…and the orb vanishes.
Just like that.
Theron lets out a startled laugh.
“Fuck!Iguess it’s working.”
“I guess so,”Isay, still staring at the empty air where the orb and feather were a moment ago.Iblow out a slow breath, trying to steady myself.“Onedown…three to go.”
He gives me a look.
“If that was the easy one,Idon’t even want to fuckingthinkabout the others.”
I manage a weak smile, though something uneasy curls in my chest.
“Let’s just hope the next three quests aren’t as difficult.”
Even asIsay it,Iknow better—deep down,Ican feel it.Thethree other quests we must complete in order to work theTimeWeavingspell loom before us.
