A cursed hunt the wings.., p.13

A Cursed Hunt (The Wings & Witches Series Book 1), page 13

 

A Cursed Hunt (The Wings & Witches Series Book 1)
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  No one was keen to sell a horse but the first person they’d met had been happy to tell them all about the river, the Mitus River as they’d guessed. Remis tried to scribble the name onto the mental map he carried so that at least one small spec of information might be helpful.

  It was about an hour's walk from Olden which they’d used as an opportunity to gather supplies for their raft. They dragged several lightweight tree limbs leaving several crooked lines of broken brush behind them. Percy had taken to using his small knife to cut thin strips off of several of the long tree trunks. There was a fibrous layer between the good wood and the outer bark that Percy happily gathered as a means for rope.

  Sweat dripped off the tip of Remis’ nose as he pulled the fully crafted raft toward the edge of the Mitus River. The day was cold but under their cloaks, they'd grown uncomfortably warm after dragging so many bits of wood together. They’d removed any knots and protruding branches using their weapons like axes.

  He walked knee-deep into the river, the current a lazy pull against him, while Merritt and Percy pushed the raft from behind. The water felt like a thousand pinpricks against their skin. Icy fingers lapped against their clothes and soaked through to their prickled flesh. They paused to watch the wood bob against the coursing water. When it stayed afloat, they threw their arms over their heads in celebration.

  “Percy, you're brilliant!” Remis shouted.

  The day was well on its way to ending and they’d only have a few safe hours before the sun went down and the threat of the dragonis returned, but the damn thing floated. The final test would be to fit all their weight on it and not capsize. They’d purposefully taken longer and built a larger raft, thinking that if it held them all they could make up for lost time with Remis’ gifts.

  Percy tossed his bag into the middle of the wood first. The glass jars inside clinked loudly together and the raft itself swayed from the movement. His friend’s excitement only dimmed momentarily as he shot both Remis and Merritt a dark look.

  “If this fails and my book is damaged, just know, I’ll be absolutely furious.”

  Remis expected nothing else from Percy. Both he and Merritt knew better than to laugh, though it was hard to fight the urge to smile. They made it this far; perhaps the three of them could make it through anything together. With Percy’s brains, Merritt’s unwavering hope, and Remis’…well, he’d have to think on what his strengths might be because so far all he’d been good at was getting them into sticky situations.

  One last narrowed look was pointed at Remis and Merritt before Percy clambered onto their makeshift boat. Water sloshed at the edges. The raft dipped with his weight and promptly bounced back above the surface. An echo of Percy’s triumphant shout bounced through the trees sending birds into flight.

  Gaze centered on Percy’s pack, Merritt pulled himself onto the raft, quickly dragging his feet from the water and freezing the moment he was fully on board. The skin on Percy’s knuckles was pulled taut and pale as he gripped the tree limbs underneath him. The wood bobbed. Their raft righted.

  It was his turn next. His stomach filled with knots. If this didn’t work they’d be out of options and stuck an hour outside of the city. He’d messed everything up so far and had been the entire reason for every terrible situation they’d endured. He didn't want to be the person who weighed too much and sank the whole damn thing. Not to mention the wrath of Percy that would befall him if the book was ruined.

  He was torn between jumping on as quickly as he could or going at an excruciatingly slow pace. Getting dunked in this water would be unbearable should he fail, like a thousand knives being plunged all over his body. More cold sweat beaded on his neck as he tried to find some middle ground and pulled himself up. His weight rocked the entire thing. His heart lurched up into his throat. Everything settled.

  Remis stayed still, caught in a position somewhere between sitting and lying down.

  Then they were floating, the raft gently following the river’s current.

  “Fuck yes,” Merritt whispered.

  They each took turns adjusting how they sat, letting their movements play out over the top of the water before settling again. The sun beat down on them, shining off the river’s surface, and warmed their skin despite the winter air. What wind there had been died down and left the three of them to float along with the flow of the river.

  Remis found it was easier to breathe now that they’d successfully gotten on board. The worry that held his lungs in its tight fist had loosened. Now all he had to do was connect to nature’s magic. That same giddy thrill rushed through him that was always present when he practiced the art.

  “Do you need anything?” Merritt asked.

  Remis shook his head. “Just silence.” He crossed his legs in front of him, closed his eyes, and let his conscious drift toward that ever-present pull. The steady stream of water below them was an extension of him, familiar as the rush of blood through his veins.

  Using magic was much the same as using one of his own limbs. It was a clumsy effort as though he was a child learning to walk and make small exact motions with his fingers. That’s partially why schooling was so important to him. He wanted to do as the great mages could. It needed to be as simple and easy as breathing, done naturally without thought.

  He followed that extension of himself into the depths of the rivers. There, he could feel the brush of life within the currents. Fish swimming along brushed against his mental bond and the finer movements of beetles skimmed against the surface. Plants held firm to rocks and the muck they’d been able to root themselves to.

  Remis called the water to bend to his will to find the raft that coasted along and guide it forward. The urgency that had settled in his bones was impressed upon the river, calling the ebb and flow to gradually gain speed.

  Wind ruffled the hair he’d already pushed from his face. A dark strand curled over his forehead, and he ignored it as the handmade vessel moved at an almost impressive speed.

  Breathing was somehow easier when he connected himself to the magic of this world. What worries bound him to his body lessened as he became one with his surroundings. Here he could forget about the dark shadow when they’d fled the warlord’s home. He could forget about the mark that scarred his palm.

  The three men aboard their raft moved in silence down the Mitus River and watched as the sun crept closer and closer to the horizon. For when darkness came, so would the dragonis.

  15

  Meira

  His large hands cupped her face and moved into her hair, gripping, and pulling her closer. The salty scent of sweat hung in the air between them, the music calling their bodies to sway together. To their left, a bonfire flickered, its height reaching overhead and the heat easily warming the circle of trees that surrounded them.

  Meira’s body felt lighter than it ever had before and the alcohol running through her veins made being near him so easy. There wasn’t some piece of her that wanted to hurt him right now, no fraction of her soul that demanded she fulfill the curse. They were just two people swaying together underneath the moon.

  Other couples danced to the steadily plucked rhythm from the man who lounged on the forest's edge amongst a patch of clover. Meira hardly noticed them, not when the man in her arms was tilting her face up to his, his mouth hovering over hers as he let out a slow breath. He smelled of the sweet berries from the witch’s wine and that only made her sway as if his breath alone was getting her drunk.

  She didn’t like to admit it, but she’d thought about what it would be like to kiss him from the moment she’d met him. Now that his lips were so close, he hesitated, a question waiting to be answered. In response, she stretched up on her toes and pressed herself desperately against every part of him.

  Remis kissed her with the fervor of a starved man. He held her tighter, refusing any space that could come between them as his tongue darted out and parted her lips. A groan vibrated in his chest as she opened for him. The taste of wine was even sweeter than the scent.

  The tangle of his hands in her hair slowly slid down her body. His touch traced her curves, pausing only to grip her waist tightly before continuing down to her backside. Meira savored the warmth of his wide hands against her, lifting her leg to hook around his hip. A hard length pressed against her core. His want. As incredibly powerful as hers was.

  Then it didn’t matter if there was anyone around because they were stumbling for the darkness of the treeline, a mess of scrambling hands ripping at their shirts, until her chest was covered in nothing more than a strip of cloth and her bare back was being pressed into the trees.

  His kisses trailed down the length of her throat as she arched against him. The scrape of his teeth sent a thrill down her spine that only dampened the space between her legs. Damn it all, she wanted him. Her entire being was ablaze with the need.

  His body rocked against hers, his length hitting that desperate, wanting part of her. She tilted her head back, felt her hair catch on the bark of the tree and Remis’ mouth dipped to take the peak of her breast in his mouth. Even through the fabric, Meira felt the swirl of his tongue as he sucked her further into his mouth. Dampness spread through the material of what was left of her thin top. It chilled as the wind cut through the forest, only making her nipples harder.

  The clothing was too much. She didn’t want these pants on any longer, the tight fit of her flight leathers was suffocating in his presence. And she certainly didn’t want his clothes on him either. All the bare skin of his upper body was exposed under the moonlight now. Her fingers explored every dip and curve of his muscles and then the small patch of hair that ran across his chest.

  She writhed against his body, letting herself grind against him. He groaned as the friction between them grew hot. Pleasure built with their languid movements. Every nip of his teeth, the lingering brush of his lips, and swirl of his tongue only brought her closer to the edge.

  Why hadn’t she let herself do this sooner? With their bodies intertwined, she could find no reason worth denying herself whatever was between them. Because this raging thing between them was undeniably inevitable.

  “Meira,” he whispered her name with the lilt of an accent as he kissed the space just below her ear. “Come for me. Please.” The last word was said on a ragged begging breath. He needed this as much as she needed it.

  The last of the walls that remained between her and her self-control had officially crumbled. At his words, they were nothing but dust and rubble. Ecstasy kicked through them, rising upward from her core, building like a ravenous wave. He wrapped his arms tighter around her and let her ride out that warm wonderful feeling against him, while the rest of her body finally relaxed. She moaned, unable to keep herself quiet any longer. His name fell from her tongue as she cried out, “Remis!”

  An eruption of butterflies in her stomach forced her eyes open. Meira blinked up at the canopy of trees and the light that filtered through them. The bark of the tree was no longer rough against her skin and everywhere Remis had touched was cold, now damp with dew.

  A dream. It had all been a dream.

  Meira sat up and surveyed the group of people around her. The riders were all grounded, except for whoever flew overhead as guard. They lay in familiar bundles of cloaks and bedrolls between the trees just to the side of the dirt road they’d been following.

  She’d purposefully distanced herself from the others when dawn had come and they’d all lain down to rest. Now, her cheeks hot with embarrassment, she was thankful as both reality and her dream became clearer. The moan she’d made in her dream felt raw in her throat and she almost buried her face back under her cloak at the thought that she’d made that noise out loud. But all the still forms around her were sleeping, their chests rising and falling evenly. A few snores drifted through the quiet morning air.

  Judging by the position of the sun she’d only slept a few hours. Yet she’d never felt more awake. Her skin was still warm from the man’s touch in her dream. Her stranger. The man she was hunting.

  Remis.

  The name was fitting. It held the same stubborn charm and arrogance that wafted from him in every vision.

  Another small bit of her memories from another timeline was finally catching up to her body. She wished they’d come faster, that she’d have answers, and a clear understanding as to why she needed to find this man and kill him.

  Twice now she’d gotten a glimpse of what it might be like to be with him, to be lovers. Something must have gone terribly wrong. Betrayal, maybe? She doubted an average broken heart would be enough for her to use her magic when she’d been safe all these years with the scale riders. There were few things in her life that she valued enough to risk the security she’d found there.

  Again her mind drifted to Mrithun. Should Mrithun be killed and their sacred bond broken…Meira would tear apart worlds. Remis was beautiful in every memory she had of him and her body responded in kind to him, but he’d done something to ruin her, something worth all of this and the target she’d placed on his back. Her mind raced trying to come up with a story that could appease her. Nothing felt right. And nothing made any damn sense.

  She rubbed her eyes with the back of her hands, trying to forget the sensation of his hands on her body. Nausea roiled up inside of her. He’d touched her with those hands. If this was a fraction of what she felt before she’d chosen to dive into the depths of her power and force herself through the timeline then she could understand a little bit of the decision.

  Bones cracked along her spine as she stretched and stood. She made quick work of rolling up her sleeping mat and compacting it back into her pack. From her spot between two tall leafless trees, she could see where Bram slept with his arms and legs stretched outside of his cloak. He’d always been terrible to sleep next to the few times she’d stayed overnight. He tossed and turned throwing his limbs about and had one time nearly given her a black eye with a swinging elbow. Next to him, Valen looked like a saint. The sun shone off his neat blond hair, giving his relaxed features a childlike grace. His sleeping mat was double as thick as the riders’, so it almost appeared as if he was levitating off the ground. Unlike Bram, his arms and legs were relatively straight, tucked in neatly against his body. Even in sleep, it appeared as if he cared about how he looked. Meira frowned at his perfection and forced herself to look away.

  Instead, she lifted her chin to the sky, trying to spot which rider and dragon were currently scouting. Dragons didn’t require as much sleep as humans did and she wondered where Mrithun was. Most were likely out hunting or merely resting themselves. A dark streak of color cut across the clear blue sky. Meira followed it and the jade-green shimmer of its scales. Quincy and her dragon Marticello then.

  She was far too awake to even consider going back to sleep; the least she could do was relieve Quincy and let her get extra rest. Breathing in the musky scent of the woods, she felt for that bond that stretched between her and her Bold Wing. She called to the dragon, lifting her face to the sky. Wherever Mrithun was, Meira felt the moment she began in her direction. She smiled when the dark underbelly of her dragon became clearer.

  Branches were already scattered and broken from when they’d landed at dawn so it was easy for Mrithun to slip through without waking the rest of the riders. Meira stroked a hand over her silken scales before launching herself into the harness. She leaned forward into Mrithun’s upward trajectory and held tight as they burst upward into the sky. Wind whipped at her hair but the air wasn’t nearly as cold as it had been last night.

  They leveled in the sky and Mrithun’s wings spread wide as they glided along the wind. It took no longer than a single minute before Quincy and Marticello were by her side. The woman’s dark brows were raised in questions, her gold eyes bright, and those long braids flowing behind her.

  “News?” Quincy asked.

  One corner of Meira’s lips lifted, and she shook her head. “Just needed air.”

  “Ah, bad dreams,” Quincy said, bobbing her head as if she understood.

  Blood rushed to Meira’s cheeks again with that wicked heat. It hadn’t been a nightmare. In fact, she was quite ashamed to even admit to herself that she enjoyed the dream and the touch of her stranger. Not so much a stranger now that she had a name. Remis.

  “Something like that.”

  They flew in comfortable silence for several long minutes before Quincy spoke again. “There’s nothing for miles except the woods and over to our east the river. No sign of other travelers or dragonis.”

  Meira didn’t expect to find either while on their journey. Really, how many people might be idiotic enough to cut through the woods during this terrible season? There were two scale rider groups escorting rich heirs to Croughton; eventually they might run into one another. The two groups weren’t threats to each other. As for the dragonis, they’d only seen the one at a distance and she was fairly certain if it came down to it, she could make it out of a confrontation alive, but that didn’t make the beasts less dangerous.

  “This mission is possibly too easy,” Meira said with a shrug. “Nothing like nannying a rich man’s brat.”

  “He’s an awfully handsome brat.” Quincy laughed, leaning back in her seat. That was simply a fact. Yet, Meira thought it would take quite the effort to be ugly when you’d grown up in such wealth. His body was well nourished, his hair artfully done at the hand of a professional, not to mention the cost of the clothes that fit his toned body.

  Meira hummed, not quite sure how to respond. So instead, she asked, “Are you tired?”

  “Does it matter?”

  “Go sleep, I’ll finish your shift.”

  She didn’t have to tell Quincy twice. The woman smiled and guided her Bold Wing down toward the dots of black amongst the trees where their camp waited. Silence took over in her absence. The world was easier up here, simpler when you looked at it from a bird’s eye view.

 

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