Rather, he sat back, holding her. “I can’t pull out for a few minutes. Not without hurting you.”
It was only then that she realized he was still swollen inside her. “That’s impressive.”
Closing his eyes, he hissed lightly. “Yes, you are.”
Completely spent and weak, she breathed raggedly as Falcyn held her close. Medea smiled and snuggled into him, wanting to be as close as she could.
“You know, if the others stumble back on us while I’m naked, I’m slaying you, dragon.”
He laughed. “You are so violent.”
“And you love that about me.”
“I do, actually. It’s nice to be with a woman who understands my dark, happy go-to place.” He kissed her, then lifted her gently from his hips. “Damn. You have the nicest ass I’ve ever seen.” He nipped at her cheek as she rose so that she could begin redressing.
She brushed her fingers over his cheek and gave him a warm, sweet look. “You keep doing that and we’ll never get out of here.”
“Don’t tempt me. Besides, we can’t stay. We don’t belong in this world. The balance would be disturbed.”
That was true. One thing she knew about interdimensional travel, unless you had special permission or circumstances, you could visit, but only for a very limited time. In order to stay, you had to exchange places with someone else.
A soul for a soul.
That wasn’t an easy thing to do. And if you didn’t choose or steal the soul for yourself within a specified time, the powers that be would do it—usually at the worst possible time.
That was the last thing anyone wanted, as they seldom chose the one you’d have picked. Rather they went after the one to cause you the most pain possible. Vengeful bastards, they always found a way to punish you for daring to thwart their wills.
Much like the Fates.
And the gods.
Sadness chased away her happiness with that thought while she dressed. As the gods and Fates had never once allowed her any kind of peace or real happiness. They seemed to take a perverse pleasure in ripping it away from her.
Tears choked her as reality came crashing back and that tiny glimpse of a future she’d had just a few moments ago died horribly. There was no chance of anything with Falcyn, or anyone else.
She was an Apollite damned over a curse her father had levied against her race because of the actions of a jealous bitch-queen.
Falcyn was a dragon damned for his own birth by a jealous bitch-goddess. As the old saying went, fire and gunpowder made for a very poor and extremely short marriage.
There could never be anything for either of them, except death and misery. That was all the gods would ever allow for them. All their enemies would let them have. And between the two of them, they had a frightfully long list of creatures wanting them dead.
Drawing a ragged breath, she relegated herself to a cold, bitter reality. To an eternity of being alone. “We have to find the others.”
Falcyn nodded. “I know.”
As he withdrew, she saw the strange scroll marks on his lower back that she’d missed during their earlier play. She reached out to trace the ancient black swirls. “What’s this?”
He glanced at her, over his shoulder. “Symbols of healing and protection that were placed there by my brother, Hadyn.”
“They’re beautiful.”
He nodded. “He was incredibly powerful. One of the strongest Simeon Magi ever trained. A true manslaghe.” That was impressive given that a manslaghe could not only take a life, they could destroy a soul.
It was what made them some of the most dreaded breed of god-killer. More so than even the Chthonians who’d been created to police the gods themselves.
“You fought together?”
“We did.” Sadness darkened his eyes. “He saved my life during the Primus Bellum.”
