Awaken to Pleasure (6 page)

“I’m getting impatient.” The rasp of the mistress’s voice was hung with icicles by this point, even though the flush on her face showed that she was anything but cold.

Moira hoped, as Boone pulled himself up off her that he, at least, knew what he was doing, because she certainly didn’t. Her question was answered when he pulled her close and placed his lips by her ear.

“Touch the lamp and wish this away,” he told her, so quietly that she almost didn’t hear him. As he spoke he kneaded her ass firmly, his fingers dipping between the cheeks, but for the first time since the nightmarish yet perversely pleasuring scenario had started Moira noticed that his actions were over-the-top, designed to make an impression as well as arouse.

The calculation continued. She was maneuvered onto her hands and knees, her ass quivering, exposed, in the air. Aware now that something else was afoot, she widened her eyes to take in her surroundings. She was facing away from Shiloh, and toward the blanket where the lamp was buried. But she still didn’t understand completely. Why did she need to get the lamp to wish? If he could grant her wish, then she should just do so now.

She closed her eyes tightly and wished with all of her heart to be out of the situation. The silent plea ended on a moan, and Boone slid into her from behind. But when she opened her eyes she could still see Shiloh’s reflection in the glass on the wall. The wish hadn’t worked, but as she heard Boone murmur, “Touch the lamp,” she understood.

It wasn’t enough to be the owner of the sapphire lamp. The wish had to be made while the lamp was held in the hands of its master, which was why Shiloh’s wish hadn’t brought Boone under her command.

She had to get the lamp. If she could get the lamp, then the nightmare would end.

She readied herself, her muscles tensed. Boone seemed to sense her intentions, for he pulled back, far back, until Moira heard his cock slide out of her wetness with a small popping noise.

That was all she needed. She dove forward, sliding toward the blanket. She heard Shiloh’s sharp questioning as the dirt from the floor was disturbed, rising rapidly to clog her nose, but she made herself stay focused as she scrabbled beneath the blanket for the lamp.

A cry of triumph escaped her lips when her fingers curled around the cool silver.

“I wish for vengeance.”

The words were on the tip of her tongue. She could almost taste it.

But that would surely tear the haven apart. And then all of these people, those who had fought so long for survival…

She couldn’t have their deaths on her hands.

“The only wishes I do not advise involve death. Magic demands a price, and the death of another will rip life from she who commands it as well.”

Boone’s earlier words rang in her head, and Moira saw, with crystal clarity, what she had to do.

She didn’t turn to look at Boone. She couldn’t, or she would waver.

“I wish for your death, Shiloh. Yours and no others.” She heard the growl of her own voice, was surprised by the poison that she heard dripping from the words, and then she held her breath, waiting to see what would happen.

“Moira! No!” Boone lurched, lunging for her; Shiloh let out an outraged howl. A sweep of her hand and he was frozen in midair. The witch queen then launched herself across the room toward Moira. Stunned that it hadn’t worked, she turned her frantic gaze to Boone, wondering how she could possibly have misunderstood something so important.

The deep sapphire-blue of his fear-filled eyes locked onto hers, and she felt time stop, cocooning and protecting.

Sapphire eyes.

Sapphire.

Of course.

She placed her fingers on the cool gem of the lamp and repeated her wish. Though the wording came differently, it carried the same meaning, and she prayed to the haven that this time she had it right.

And then she felt as though an electric current had seized her whole. Her eyes squeezed tightly shut, she heard a sizzling noise and was pulled tight by a jolt of electricity that sizzled over her skin, sending every tiny hair on her body into full alert.

“Aah!” Doing her best to pry her eyes open, she found herself overwhelmed by the pain. Her body levitated off the floor, sending uncontrollable tremors through her.

But in front of her, Shiloh was on fire. The flames were blue, Boone’s blue, and the witch writhed inside them. For a moment Moira felt grief.

Humans once burned us at the stake, persecuted us, forced us into hiding. And now the tables have turned
.

That might have been true, but Moira couldn’t be responsible for the actions of all of humankind, centuries before her birth. Nor could she save them all now.

This was survival. For her kind, at least.

But not for her.

Bloodlust rose within her as she watched the flames eat Shiloh alive. It seemed fitting not only that Shiloh die in the same way in which she’d killed so many, but that it was fire that did the deed, burning away all traces of evil that might otherwise have remained.

Burning away the bad, the rotten, leaving the way clear for something new and fresh and good to grow.

Moira was filled with agony as she tensed, waiting for her own demise, certain that she felt flames licking along her own skin.

But then the flames flickered away, the maniacal energy sucked out of the room, out of Moira’s lungs, in a heartbeat. The impact sent her falling forward, mimicking the position that Boone had had her in only moments before, and she scrabbled her fingers into the dirt, searching desperately for purchase as she tried to stay upright.

Then the air was still, still and again calm. Cautiously she opened first one eye, and then the other. Then she frantically scrambled over the dirt toward where Boone lay, sprawled on his back in shock.

Shiloh was gone. The cabin was empty but for the two of them and the light, fresh breeze that once again trickled through the crack in the door.

“How?” Moira croaked, her throat dry. Then she saw Boone lying on the floor, still and pale.

She crawled to him, hurriedly checking for a pulse, for breath.

Did he even need to breathe?

“Boone.” Her voice was quiet, serious. She was overwhelmed.

“You did it.” With a groan, he propped himself up on his elbows, reaching for her. As Moira ran her eyes over him, she saw the small cuts, the bruises begin to disappear. “You saved them all. I knew you would.”

He was fine. He was whole. And she was happy for it.

But…

“I’m going to die.” Her lips began to tremble, and tears began to spark in her eyes. This led to her lips curling into a snarl, for above all else, she hated to cry.

She was not weak, damn it. But she didn’t want to die.

“You won’t.” Boone said, placing a finger under her chin and tilting her face up so that it looked into his.

She wanted to fling herself at him.

She found herself frozen in place.

“What do you mean, I won’t? You—you said—” He cut her off by placing his finger over her lips.

“Magic demands a price, yes. When you want something for naught. But you didn’t wish her dead for yourself. You did it for the haven.”

Moira could only stare. “I’m…not going to die? You knew this?”

“I couldn’t tell you, or the wish wouldn’t have been the same.”

Floored, Moira found that her energy and bravado finally left her, and she slumped on the floor. Boone wrapped his arm around her.

“You did a brave, brave thing. I saw it, you know. In a vision, so long ago.”

“That’s why you saved me,” she whispered through dry lips. Cold lips. She was cold all over. In fact, she wondered if she would ever feel warm again.

“I knew I would only have the magic to save one before Shiloh got me.” His voice was full of regret. “Your parents were my friends. But I had no choice.”

For years, Moira’s only desire had been to bring her parents back.

Now…she wanted, more than anything, to have one more wish.

One very specific wish.

“It’s just…” Moira had a choice. She knew that she could divulge her true feelings, but something still clogged her throat, choking the words before their birth at her lips.

“I guess I was surprised, and scared, that I didn’t understand the rules of the lamp. It could have cost us both our skins, you know?” Swallowing hard, Moira looked away, pulling on the iron will she’d once had in an attempt to get her emotions back under control.

She’d hidden her emotions for so many years, she wasn’t at all sure what to do with the rising tide of them in that moment.

Boone, it seemed, was just as stubborn as she was, however, for he merely turned her to face him once more. “I did explain,” he informed her, his eyes searching her face. “Earlier. Before we mated. I explained all of the rules of the lamp.”

“Well, it was a little hard to concentrate when you were half-naked in my bathing tub!” The frustration finally exploded the words from Moira’s throat and she cringed at the outburst, for she knew that Boone was astute enough to glean the real meaning from the silence between the words.

“Moira.” Though her face was tilted up, toward his, she kept her eyes cast down, embarrassed more than she cared to contemplate. She had never, in all the years since the world had gone crazy, allowed herself to care for someone, for anyone, out of fear that they might be taken from her in the same way her family had been But now she was learning an even more horrible possibility—that she might love someone, and he might not love her in return.

“Moira.” Boone ducked down so she was forced to look at him. “Moira,” he repeated. “I know. I know what you were going to wish for.”

“Well, that’s just great.” Moira sat straight up at his words, feeling more naked than she ever had in her life. Grasping for her cloak to cover her nudity, she pulled her long body to her feet and began to move toward her tub, intending to splash cool water on her dirty face.

“You have one more wish.” The words, spoken in that voice that reminded Moira of a substance called chocolate she had once tasted as a child, stopped her in her tracks. She whirled, dropping the cloak on the ground. Ignoring the lascivious once-over that Boone gave her again revealed flesh, she planted her hands on her hips.

“What are you talking about?”

Boone pulled himself up onto his elbows, a smug smile now crossing his features. “You get one more wish.” He stretched languidly, and Moira wasn’t sure whether she should leap on him or kick him where it would hurt most. “You made a selfless wish, so you are automatically granted one more.”

Moira couldn’t help it. She gaped, her mouth opening and closing like the rainbow fish that swam in the small pool outside. Staring at Boone accusingly, she sputtered, “You might have told me this a bit earlier!”

The smugness left Boone’s face as he pulled himself to a sitting position. “I couldn’t,” he told her, and his tone spoke of the truth. “The selfless wish must be granted willingly, without duress, with the person’s whole heart. It cannot be coerced to receive a second wish. As you can imagine, this power could be greatly abused, so I am forbidden to tell the master of the Lamp of the Sapphire of the rule.”

Moira’s mouth opened.

Then it closed.

“Another wish.” The breath leaving her, Moira sat abruptly down on the floor next to Boone, their knees touching. Her mind raced frantically over the possibility now opened to her.

But she didn’t want to free him, to bind him to her, if it wasn’t what he wanted, too.

“You can wish for
anything
, Moira.” Boone spoke and startled Moira out of her reverie. She caught his gaze and noted the twinkle in his eyes. Damn the haven, he
knew!
He knew exactly what it was she wished. “Anything at all.” Something cool and hard touched her hand and Moira knew that Boone had passed her the lamp.

“You’re sure?” Her tone was challenging, and they both knew that she wasn’t questioning his knowledge of the rules of the lamp. “Absolutely sure?”

Leaning over, Boone placed his lips on hers in a tender kiss. “More sure than I have ever been of anything,” he whispered against the twin bows of her mouth, and the simple touch was enough to have heat coursing through her veins and love fizzing into her heart.

“The queen is dead. It is time for the world to be rebuilt.”

“I can’t leave the haven,” Moira blurted out. It was important that he knew. “Not until…not until I know that everyone will be okay.”

“You wouldn’t be you if you could.” He smiled at her again, that slightly naughty grin. “Now wish, woman.”

“Well, then.” Grasping the lamp firmly in her hands, Moira touched her fingers to the gemstone. She looked into Boone’s eyes and saw her future.

“I wish for your freedom.” She had expected a sonic boom, a roll of thunder, lightning flashing. When nothing happened, she opened the eyes she had automatically closed and found Boone grinning at her, his eyes alight with something that hadn’t been in them before.

“Look!” His voice was full of glee, the same infectious note that could be heard in a child’s over a shiny red ball or a stick of sugar. Moira’s eyes followed his finger, and she felt a similar grin break out over her own face.

The sapphire was crumbling to dust right before their eyes, trickling down to mix with the dirt of the floor. The sapphire spell was broken. It had worked. Boone was free.

Opening her mouth, Moira racked her brain in attempt to find some profound words to mark the moment. Instead she wound up squealing when she was flipped onto her hands and knees for the third time that day.

She shivered as she felt the hot breath of her mate tickle at her ear, as his hand slid over the soft expanse of her stomach, awakening a pleasure within her that was so strong it hurt.

“Now,” he whispered, and Moira’s stomach clenched with anticipation. “Where were we?”

Lauren Hawkeye is a writer, yoga newbie, knitting aficionado and animal lover who lives in the shadows of the great Rocky Mountains of Alberta, Canada. She’s older than she looks–really–and younger than she feels–most of the time–and she loves to explore the journeys that take women through life in her stories. Hawkeye’s stories include erotic historical, steamy paranormal, and hot contemporary.