The Corollaria (17 page)

Emily’s breathing was shallow and labored. She couldn’t speak, just minutely nodded her head. Her hand flew up to cover his on her cheek. After a few seconds he stepped away, gave her one last sad smile, and then looked to Luke. The two boys eyes met, something unspoken but acknowledged passed between them
. Curtis turned and walked away. As he disappeared into the sun, smoke began to slowly rise from his body creating a misty haze until all Emily could see was the strong glare of the sun.

Luke wrapped his arms around her and pressed a kiss to her cheek. She turned into him, pressing her face against the thin fabric of his shirt.
She inhaled deeply.  Even beneath the smoke and destruction she could smell that clean fresh scent that was purely Luke. It soothed something deep inside her. He held her as the sun rose, high and triumphant. Luke felt the warmth of her soft body against him, her fingers twisting into his dirty shirt. He curled his fingers under her chin, raising her eyes, fresh and clear as rainwater up to meet his.

“I
love you, Emily,” he whispered.

T
he truth of those words felt freeing and alive. A fierce passion exploded inside him. Fresh tears collected in her eyes, escaping to cut a path down her flushed dirty cheek.

Luke leaned down.  He
captured her lips with a soft, lingering kiss.

T
he sun rose high in the sky, its long golden fingers stretched out, and illuminated the destruction of the city.  Dust and smoke from the crumbled buildings, from the ravaged city and its once full, lush magical gardens now turned to ash, hung thick in the air as Luke gently guided Emily back to the courtyard in front of Queen Aine’s house.

There was less destruction here, in the center of the Hidden City. A few flowers, bright and unearthly in their color hung onto vines and lattices.  Emily’s eyes felt heavy, a weight settled into her chest. Curtis was gone. Curtis sacrificed his life for he
rs. A sob caught in her throat.

Luke’s arm was t
ight around her shoulders. The grip of his fingers against her skin was almost bruising. She could feel the tremble there, his fear, his regret, his guilt, his relief all compounded together. She didn’t have to look up into his charcoal eyes to know this, she could feel it. From the simple tremor in his fingers, from his fierce grip, from his stiff posture and his cheek pressed to her hair.

They didn’t speak, they didn’t have to.  The city was surprisingly empty, only a few muffled m
oans in the distance as they made their way through, stumbling over broken stones and stepping around fallen men and women. Their blood was still fresh as it stained the cobblestone streets and bled into the gutters. A vicious river of red.

Emily shuddered and Luke pulled her closer. He placed a tender kiss on her hair as they emerged into the brightly lit courtyard. There was something so off about that. The sunshine and flowers contrasted so starkly against the choking smell of dust and rot, the crumbling buildings and ash. The
spilled blood.

And then some of the crushing weight was lifted. Carson and Jenny, looking worn and haggard stood in the center of the courtyard. Jenny’s red hair, vibrant in the sun, was matted, her golden eyes widened at the sight of Luke and Emily, fresh tears welled in her eyes and spilled down her cheeks. She didn’t even bother to wipe them away.

Carson looked as stoic as ever, except for the slightest crease around his eyes and mouth. He was dirty, blood and dirt and ash covered his skin. He reached out for them. Luke dropped his arm from around Emily’s shoulders, and laced his fingers with hers, pulling them into the courtyard.

Carson hugged Luke. And Luke gripped his brother’s shoulders and hugged him back with a fierceness he didn’t know was inside him. Carson let go of Luke and pulled Emily in
to his chest.  “I’m glad you’re okay, sis.”

His voice was gentle, but Emily could detect the fear that he felt before Luke and Emily had appeared in the courtyard. Her brief moment of relief was shattered when two more figures stepped into the courtyard, opposite of the way Emily and Luke had entered.

John and Vanessa.

Emily’s blue eyes locked on John’s. They were as dark and deep as his son’s once were. Something inside Emily cracked. She wanted to look away. She felt overwhelming shame, guilt, and heartbreak echo in the space between them. Shared feelings.

Without conscious thought or effort, Emily wiggled out of Carson’s embrace and ran for John. He hugged her to him, and she felt his silent sobs shake her shoulders, crack against her ribs. She didn’t have to tell him what he already knew.

That his son was dead.

That Curtis sacrificed his life.

For hers.

She felt another emotion from John. It pricked her skin, and the sudden unquestionable realization struck her. Pride. Curtis had fulfilled his destiny.

But Emily only felt a sharp edge of emotion and it twisted in her gut, stuck to her throat. She
was raw and hollow. Stripped.

              Until she felt Luke’s strong, sure hands around her shoulders, gently prying her from John. She collapsed against him, breathless from emotion, and sobbed into the soft cotton of his dirty shirt smeared with ash and blood and her tears. Stained with regret.

~000~

It was dark when she woke up. She opened her eyes and peered around the room, her eyes landed on Luke, hunched over on the edge of the bed. His bare back was to her, his shoulders slumped and his elbows propped up on his knees, his head buried in his hands.

There was only a foot of distance between them, she could easily reach out and touch him, but he seemed so far away. Lost in his own thoughts, alone in the dark. Just the faintest light from the moon peeked through the curtains and bathed his skin in a soft pale glow.

Emily watched small droplets fall from his hair, which had curled at the ends at the nape of his neck, and cascaded down his bare back. A bright white towel was secured low around his hips.

She felt a sudden urgent need for him. It wasn’t
lust or even love. It was a fierce, all-encompassing need for him. She could feel the fire as it ignited in her belly, the hunger as it clawed at her insides. She reached out and splayed her hand flat against the smooth, clean, undamaged skin of his back.

Luke turned to face her. No surprise or fear or confusion clouded his eyes. They darkened, turning almost
black, deep, and fathomless as they locked on hers.

Luke reached out to touch her, sliding his hand along her cheek. His eyes didn’t close as he leaned forward until he kissed her
, soft but urgently. Emily was devastated by her longing. His lips were warm and smooth against her own.

Luke
pulled back, a little breathless, when she parted her lips and then he laid his forehead against hers.  “You need a shower.”

“I need you,” she whispered back. A ghost of a smile lifted
the corners of his mouth. He scooped her up in his arms and carried her into the bathroom.

Steam engulfed them as Luke turned on the water. 
He pressed his lips to her neck, murmuring into her skin. “I’ve always needed you. I always will need you.”

His words were soft but fevered.
Intense in their promise. Luke slowly slid her shirt and pants off, and tossed them into a dirty pile on the smooth tiled floor.  His touch was tender, barely a whisper against her still bruised and bloodied skin.

Luke gathered her in his arms and stepped into the steam and water, letting the warmth erase, heal, consume.

Emily
leaned into him, her forehead pressed to his chest. Luke combed his fingers through her hair, and she wrapped her arms around his waist, hugging him tightly. His arms dropped and enfolded her trembling form into his protective, warm embrace.

After the shower, Luke gently kissed her as he carried her back to the bed and laid her down on the fluffy comforter.
His gray eyes were soft, focused on her so intently she could barely breathe.

Emily’s warm fingers wr
apped around his neck, and she pulled his lips down to hers. Her blonde hair fanned out across the pillow like spun gold, a sharp contrast to the dark sheets. She was dizzy, breathless, shattered by desire. The air between them was electric.

Luke’s
movements were slow, unhurried. He wanted to melt into her.  He let the rest of the world, the weight of the day, the horrific battle, the fear, the confusion, the loss, and his own mistakes fade away.  His lips left hers, kissing her jaw, memorizing the gentle slope of her neck, the taste of her skin. His fingers skimmed down her sides, committing her curves, the feel of her soft skin, to memory.

Luke smoothed his hand over her flat stomach and lowered his fingers, gently touching her between her
trembling thighs. Emily gasped and bit her lip, only to have him cover her mouth with his again, swallowing her soft moans. She tangled her fingers in the thick strands of hair at the nape of his neck.

Her body shook, his fingers expertly
stroked the silky wetness, caressed her delicate skin. A current of ecstasy and desire pulled her under its enticing waves. She lost herself in its tantalizing embrace. She was unsure of where he ended and she began. She wanted nothing more than to hold onto this feeling forever. To hold onto him forever.

Luke kissed her neck, and took a deep breathe, smelling
the delicious scent of her, a sweet mix of steam and girl soap combined with the tiny droplets of sweat that beaded on her skin.

Mine,
he thought fiercely.
Hers,
something else inside him answered.  He was always hers. And for once, nothing sounded better or more right. Passion and love and an intense overwhelming
want
flooded him, gathered in his chest, the pressure of which exploded, leaving him breathless, dizzy, and lost in a sea of Emily.

His hand smoothed over her thigh, her muscles twitched beneath his tender touch. He gripped the back of her leg and propped himself up.  His eyes met with hers—more blue
and alive than he’d ever seen them. Like blue flames.

“Emily,” he whispered. The way he said her name, like a delicious secret meant only for him, made her whole body flush, her heart sing.
She arched wantonly against him.

Luke’s hand
pressed flat against her leg, pushing her knee to her chest. His hardness pressed into her softness. His thrusts were steady, sure, strong and smooth.  His muscles rippled and tensed under her tender touch.

“I
belong only to you,” he confessed. His voice was husky and thick, rough as he moved his hips against hers. He brought his lips back to hers, urgent, starved. And tinged with desperation.  “Tell me you’re mine.”

Her blue eyes were dark with pleasure and desire, intent and determined as she pressed her lips against his scruffy jaw, and wh
ispered with a fevered passion, that spoke to his heart.

“I’m yours. I’ve always been yours.”

He took a shaky breath, closed his eyes and leaned his forehead against hers, their noses rubbed together. “I’m so sorry.”

She reached up and
let her fingers brush along his strong angled jaw. His cheeks.  She felt his lashes flutter against the tips of her fingers, and gently kiss her face. His sweet breath caressed her lips.

“Shhh,” she whispered soothingly.  “I love you. I forgive you. I’m—”

“No,” he shook his head.  “No, you shouldn’t be sorry. For anything.  I was a coward.  I was—”

She kissed him.  Soft and warm and so reassuring and soothing he melted against her.

He kissed along her jawline, buried his face in her neck.  She wrapped her arms tightly around him, like she could hold him together.

Her hips bucked up, and he groaned as he pushed into her, still slow, but deep and so fulfilling,
her insides felt like molten lava.

“I love you,” he murmured
. Devastated by her touch, spent by desire in her arms, he whispered, “I am so hopelessly in love with you, my Emily. You know I’d do anything for you right?”

Emily stilled.
Confused by his emotions, by the desperation stinging her skin.

Luke pulled back, his gray eyes, dark
and turbulent in the dimness.

“Luke--?”

He shook his head, silencing her with a tender kiss. He softly whispered as she fell asleep, “I love you. Always.”

~000~

Emily was asleep, curled into his side, soft breath against his skin.  Luke couldn’t sleep. The day’s events replayed in his mind. 

After he had led Emily away, he had turned back. He wasn’t even sure why. But something didn’t feel right. Didn’t smell right. Beneath the fire and smoke, burning flesh and scents of slain enemies, Luke’s wolf scent smelled something that stung the back of his nostrils. Musty, rich as leather bound books, acrid and sharp like incense. 

He had turned his head only slightly, the place where Samuel’s body had lain was empty. A trickle of fear and panic rose up so fast, he’d stumbled. Emily barely noticed, lost in her own shock and grief.