A Court of Light and Shadow

Chapter 25

SMUT WARNING

This chapter contains vague depictions of sexual content.
If any of this content is triggering to you, you may skip this chapter.

THE SHADOWSINGER

Her hands were like feather's on my skin, barely there yet I felt it all the same. Our powers mixed.

Whole.

Equal.

Though she did it for convenience, her touch still ignited a fire in me. A fire I couldn't extinguish no matter how hard I would try. She was toxic, and I was the air that fueled her.

Her lips worked against my own, so soft. So gentle, yet it still drove me insane. My hands were on her, on her body. Feeling every curve and dip. Every perfection that she seemed to hate.

Her existence exhumed power, she was power. She diminished it, pushed it down so far that no one knew it existed.
Until she got angry. She held so much power, so much strength. Even now, I felt it. It mixed with my own. The light to my shadows. The reason I could exist in the first place.

My lips moved against hers, tasting her. Feeling her every inch. A moan so sweet left hers, so intoxicating I couldn't get enough of it. I gave a moan of my own, a sound in the back of my throat I couldn't quite control.

My leathers were discarded in the corner of her tent, my siphons along with it.
As well as my mind.

"Lay down." Her voice sounded, her hands on my chest pushing me back. I obeyed, despite my better judgment. I did as told, because I trusted her. I trusted her, despite what she wanted from me.

The bond, for convenience.

Her lips, on my chest. Her hands, on the remaining leathers of my trousers. Removing them, piece by piece. Her breath left a hot trail down my torso, her tongue tracing the grooves of my abdomen. A holy feeling, one that had me gripping the fur lining of her cot. God, she was good. Real god damn good.

"Azriel." She breathed, her voice lined with lust. I breathed in deep, and released a sigh of pleasure.

Her fingers began to tug. Down, down. Bringing my last coverage along with her.

Down. Her breath. Down. Her kisses. Down.

And there it was. All the way down. She took me into her hand, her touch so soft and gentle. I lifted my head to look at the female, watching her hand move. A steady rhythm, while her eyes were fixated on my own.

Here we were, in the middle of a war. My mate, stroking me in a tent that would never be able to keep sounds in. At that thought, the remaining siphons on my hands flared to life.

Cobalt flashed outside the tent, signaling the shield was up I wished there to be. There was no way in hell I would allow anybody to hear us.

Her hand remained in that rhythm, sending me into the oblivion called pleasure.

"Amaya."

Amaya Amaya Amaya

Her hand never faltered.

Without thinking twice, my hand reached over to her. It gripped her undershirt, pulling her onto my body. My lips found hers once more, and the mere taste of her brought to life the fire I craved so. I was nude beneath her, while she sat atop me. Her hips moved, grinding a steady rhythm that had mine bucking up. I craved more. I needed more than just her lips.

My shadows licked their way over her body, feeling her like phantom hands on the wind. Our powers as one, yet still opposite.

My fingers tangled themselves into her hair, that red that drove me insane anytime I got so much as a glimpse of it.

The kiss was broken, and our eyes locked. My hands on her skin. Complete, and utter disbelief.

Her hands travelled down her own body. Her fingers gripping the hem of her undershirt and up up up it went. Revealing every inch of untouched skin. She was a pearl shimmering in the moonlight. A pearl I wanted to keep, and cherish for good.

But she couldn't be. As much as it drove my mind to near insanity, I couldn't call her mine.
Her hands gripped my own, and there they went. Placed on her skin, roaming. Feeling. Enjoying. I reveled in the feel of her, like silk and satin mixed together. So soft. So god damn soft. Her breasts, so perfect. The curve of her hips, astonishing. Her entire being, devastatingly beautiful. The cauldron had blessed me, but doomed her.

"We shouldn't." I breathed to her. Her eyes locked on mine, and they darkened so quickly. Her touch was gentle as her hands found my face, cupping my cheeks. So gentle, I'd believe she was almost afraid to touch me.

"I want you." She said, her voice as soft as cotton. "I've wanted you from the moment you started training me." She whispered to me. My heart leaped, and stopped at the same time.

"Amaya." I stated her name, as if it would resolve this situation.

Her fingers began tracing along my jawline. So softly. "I want you, Azriel." She stated again. Confirmation.

She rose up, and lowered her remaining undergarments. Leaving herself completely nude atop of me. Every inch of her, so fucking perfect. Her hips lowered down, her skin meeting mine. One hand reached to something just out of sight.

Within a split second, an old tradition sprung back to life. The old Illyrian ways. Her wings, proud and strong on her back. My own, splayed on the bed she was given. And now—now, she looked like a goddess.
Her hand, holding an apple. Her eyes examining the red thing like it was a block of gold.

Soon enough, her eyes found mine again. And the world stopped. She handed it to me, and I oh so carefully took the thing from her.

"Eat, Shadowsinger." She cooed, a smile playing on her lips. Every inch of my body screamed to toss that thing aside and take her. Take her in this tent and never let her go. But the traditions called first place.

My teeth sank into that apple, the juices as sweet as ever. But I knew for damned sure that this apple would never live up to this female on top of me. Never.

Patience, Azriel

I tossed it aside, chewing on that mouthful even as my hands found her skin once more.
Her hips lifted, her lips parting as her hand aligned me.

And there it all went.

Any ounce of sanity I had left, gone.

We became one. Her body felt like heaven as she sank down. A gasp left her lips, and her head rolled back.

To give her control, to give her a choice. It brought us here. The lines began to merge, as she began to move.

Slow, deliberate movements; made to drive any male insane. My fingers dug into the flesh of her hips, and I helped her move.

The line between us, became one. Merging from one end, to the other. Melting.

Up, down. Our scents, became one.

Thrust. Up, down. Equal, one and the same.

A moan, so sweet and soft. Up, down.

Cauldron blessed.

Speed up. Up, down.

Mates. A bond, only for us. Merged.

She moaned my name, and the world broke into a million pieces.

Her skin met mine. Her body resting on top of my own.

Only then did that realization dawn on me.

Mine.

All mine.

My mate.