Sorrow's Peak (Serpent of Time Book 2) (48 page)

“You’ve seen things?” Finn snarled amused scorn in his tone.

“What things?” Lorelei interjected.

“Yovenna showed him the future, I suppose? So he knows for a fact it’s me who’s not meant to return from the mountain?”

“Not Yovenna,” he shook his head, steadying his own emotions in such a way Lorelei could feel the tension building between them, but he didn’t bother denying Finn’s suspicions. Then Bren turned toward Lorelei and pointing, he said, “Her. The Light of Madra showed me a future never meant to be the day she reached out her hand and plucked me from death’s jaws. She left me on the shores of this land with memories never meant to be mine, and you,” he leveled a severe gaze in Finn’s direction, “were not a part of that future because I could not set my differences with you aside before it was too late.”

Lorelei was stunned, in much the same way she was when her brother told her the story of how she’d reached hand through some ethereal light to save him when he was just a little boy. Everyone in Dunvarak claimed to have been saved by the Light of Madra, to have some experience in which she allegedly drew them from their own death. She’d always known she must have saved Brendolowyn, too, but he’d never spoken of it before.

“So it
is
me who isn’t meant to return?” Finn’s stubbornness was still very much a part of him as he rolled that admission around in his mind, but beneath it all Lorelei felt the fear he’d been wrestling with ever since he learned one of them would not return. “I bloody knew it!”

“We can change that,” Brendolowyn said. “In fact, I believe that change is key to waking the serpent. All three of us
must
walk away from Great Sorrow’s Peak with the Horns of Llorveth. You
are
meant to return, Finn, and I’m the one who’s meant to make sure you do.”

“I can take care of myself,” Finn sneered.

“Not against the drakoren,” Bren shook his head. “It is unlike any enemy you’ve ever faced and it will destroy all three of us. It will turn us against each other if we let it. We will barely escape with our lives, much less the Horns of Llorveth, unless we make a pact right now, in this moment, that we will not turn our backs on each other no matter what. My dislike for you, I cannot say you are entirely without fault in spurring it on, but I was prepared to hate you long before we even met, and it was wrong of me to want to interfere with what was clearly meant to be.”

Lorelei felt stunned; the very real possibility that Finn would die at Sorrow’s Peak made her tremble and waver on her feet. She’d always known it could happen; she’d just chosen not to accept it, some part of her believing Finn was too stubborn and arrogant to let himself be caught unawares. He had far too much to prove to make a mistake that would get him killed.

She surprised herself by reaching for the dagger hanging from Finn’s belt. She’d left her own sword and shield back in her room in Gwendoliir’s manor, a mistake she would have to stop making if she wanted to live through what awaited her. The metal was a whisper’s scrape against the padded leather sheath as she pulled it free, and it glinted cold blue against the illusion of new light of the still-rising moons.

Both of them turned to watch, and before they could even so much as stop her when they realized what she was about to do, she gripped that blade in her already wounded hand and swiftly jerked it across her palm. Hot, throbbing pain immediately surged through her, mingling with the healing cuts from her father’s amulet. Pulsing far more painfully than she thought it would, she winced, a hiss of breath pushing through her teeth. She held her hand up as streams of bright blood trickled down over her wrist and dripped into the dark sand at her feet.

“Blood swear,” she said, thinking of her father.

It was what he would do, she thought, and though she may not have known enough about the man to call him Father, his blood ran through her veins. Blood powerful enough to garner the attention of the All-Creator. Maybe the power of that blood would prove its worth once more, and keep all three of them safe in the upcoming battle.

“Blood swear right here and now that no matter what happens from this day forward, no matter what awaits us beyond Great Sorrow’s Peak, we will not turn our backs on each other. Ever…”

“Lorelei.” Finn immediately reached for her hand to inspect the cut, but she withdrew before he could touch his finger to it.

“Blood swear, Finn.”

Her hand was shaking, the blood dripping down her clean skin, staining the white cuff of her sleeve as it seeped into the fabric. It was making her feel almost nauseous and dizzy, watching those rubies of life drip off the palm of her hand.

“You too, Bren.”

She looked up at the half-elf, knowing there was far more to what he knew than he was willing to tell, but also she didn’t want to know any more about what to expect on their path than necessary. She’d learned enough of the past and the so-called future they were meant to prevent to last a lifetime, and she wanted to shatter those images and forge her own path.

Knowing what awaited them did not make it any easier to endure. If anything, it just terrified her even more. And things could change. She had to believe that with everything she had, or else what was the point of going forward at all.

Finn hesitated, glancing warily over at Brendolowyn, but immediately took the blood-slick blade from her hand when he realized the mage was going to reach out and grab it before him. He cut into his palm, grunting a little as he drew the blade away and held up his hand to reveal his willingness to do whatever she asked of him. Then he handed the knife to Bren. The mage sliced down the palm of his hand without hesitation or acknowledgment of pain.

Lorelei lifted her hand and held it toward them both, and the two men reached in, their blood flowing together, binding them to words she next spoke.

“Your lives before mine,” she said.

“Your lives before mine.” It was the first time since they met all three of them agreed so openly.

On the imaginary banks of Nua Duaan, the false moons the only light between them, she felt the tingling sensation of their blood mingling, bonding and tying them to each other’s fates. Maybe it was only her imagination, but there was magic in that act so real it terrified her.

She knew no matter what happened, no matter what they faced, until the end of their days their three fates would be entwined. They would never turn their backs on one another no matter what tried to come between them.

Maybe that was the one thing they’d been missing on all their other attempts—unity.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Finn fell asleep rather quickly for someone with death looming over him. He was worried after the three of them parted ways, actually upset to discover he really was supposed to die on their journey. Even though he felt it in his gut ever since Hodon spoke the words, “Only two will return.”

It became a game in his mind, one in which he attempted to convince himself that even though he was the most viable candidate, it couldn’t possibly be him.

He was Mad Finn the Reckless.

What were the odds someone with a name like that would walk away unscathed from such an epic undertaking? What was the likelihood he’d walk away at all?

And yet he fell asleep with ease, as if the confirmation of that knowledge lifted a tremendous burden from his shoulders. Drifting into untroubled dream only moments after his head hit the pillow, he did not wake again until her hand on his shoulder shook him from that comfortable place.

It was still dark, moonlight streaming through sheer curtains that danced like ghosts in the breeze. He lifted his head from the pillow, not sure at first why he was waking, and confused by his surroundings. He’d grown so accustomed to sleeping outside on the cold, hard ground the soft bed beneath his back made him feel like he was falling.

Eyes barely open, the furious rhythm of her frightened heart gripped him and he shot upward, panicked. Terror and excitement pumped through her; he could almost feel the knots twisting and tightening in her stomach.

“Lore…”

She didn’t answer in words, but with an almost aggressive hand. Pushing him onto his back again, she climbed up onto the bed beside him and nestled her bent knees alongside his torso. She sat back on her heels, fidgeting until she was as comfortable as she was going to get, and then she tilted her head to the right to look at him.

He had to be dreaming.

The moonlight filtering through the windows illuminated her completely, casting an ethereal glow around her. She wore a long, white sleeping gown, a gift from their Alvarii host, he presumed, as it was just a hint too large for her. Slipping off her shoulder and exposing the bare, freckled skin almost to her naked breast, he swallowed hard. The loose braid of her hair fell in to cover her just enough that the mystery of what lay behind it stirred the animal inside him.

Yep. Definitely dreaming.

The beast rose quickly to the surface of his skin when her hand came down to rest on his arm.

She trembled, every part of her body shaking as scattered emotions flitted through her mind so quickly he couldn’t pick them apart to make sense of them. Reaching across, he touched her and she nearly leaped out of her skin.

“Princess?”

He started lifting himself from the pillow, but she answered with an unexpected kiss. Her body surged forward, the hands on his shoulders shoving him back again. She lifted her leg over his waist, straddling his stomach and lowering her chest against his as she went on kissing him. Her lips shuddered nervously across his, tasting of inexperience, fear and the salted wind blowing off the false sea where they’d all three sworn to protect one another just hours before.

Ahuh. He was dreaming.

There was no way she’d come to him in the dark of night and throw herself at him. She told him she was not ready for commitment at least two dozen times, both verbally and with her body language every time he’d touched her over the last few weeks.

His entire body stiffened in answer, parts of him he couldn’t control tightening, rising, startling a gasp from her slightly parted lips as he lifted into her. His hand slid upward, fingers tightening along the curve of her spine as he met her advances. If it was just a dream, he was going to follow it straight through to the end because if he couldn’t have her while he was awake, at least he could have her in his dreams.

The movement dropped her downward, into his lap and she whimpered when she felt the urgency of his desire press hard against her. The sound was lost in kisses, increasing in desperation and vigor as she pushed her tongue through his lips in a wicked dance that drew a desirous moan from his throat. She brought one hand to his face, the fingers tickling across his jaw and cheek before tangling into the loose hair behind his ear and drawing him in deeper. The other hand she let fall down his shoulder, where she rested on his chest as though at any moment she might push him away again.

Inside the wolf was ready to take control, but the man gripped hard the strands of conscious awareness before they could slip away and he lost himself entirely. Dream or no dream, he couldn’t take the chance. If he hurt her in anyway, took advantage of her because he couldn’t control himself, he’d never forgive himself for it. He cared for her too much to risk binding her to him without her being truly ready.

“Princess,” he sighed across her lips, not exactly sure what to do with his own hands. The one on her back tightened, fingertips pressing into her skin, while the other dropped to cup the curve of her backside and squeeze her body closer. She moved slowly in his lap, instinct guiding her body in pleasurable motions that drew another husky moan from his throat.

His tenuous grip on self-control waning, desire ran rampant through Finn’s body, making every impulse impossible to control. The hands he wasn’t sure what to do with just seconds before were suddenly everywhere; squeezing her hips and pressing her harder into his lap, rising to grab her breast and squeeze as he nibbled kisses down her chin and into the crook of her neck. He gripped the flimsy nightgown in both hands, their bodies only parting long enough for him to yank it over her head and toss it into the tangle of sheets at his feet. Her bare chest came against his, the soft crush of her breasts warm and inviting as he sank deeper into her eager, hungry kisses.

It felt right and yet wrong on so many levels it made him uncomfortable. Somewhere deep down he wasn’t sure why she was doing it. She knew the consequences. More than just their bodies would merge, their souls would tangle together like the melted wax of two spent candles until she could no longer tell anymore where she began and he ended. The connection between them would become a distraction, their constant fear for one another getting them both killed.

He couldn’t believe how strong the impulse to stop felt, and though it was a small miracle he was able to grasp onto that part of himself and bring it to the surface long enough to grip her by the shoulders and draw her body away from his, he was proud of himself for doing it. The wolf, on the other hand, was more than just disappointed. It was enraged.

“Lorelei,” he managed to draw her away. She rushed back in, straining against the force of his grip to silence his protests, but he managed to tell her, “You don’t want this.”

“I do.” She seemed to melt and soften, her body easing into his again, lips tilting upward to kiss along the stubble on his neck and chin. “I want you, Finn.”

Gods, it was nice to hear that.

“I told you already this was what I wanted. I just wasn’t ready before, but I am now.”

“No,” he insisted, the greater part of him wishing he could hit himself and stop the stupidity flowing from his lips. “You don’t want this, Princess and you’re not ready. You’re just…” He had to hold her back again because the tender nibbling of her lips across the sensitive hollow of his throat was driving him insane, making his every thought muddy and senseless in his head. “You’re just afraid I’m going to die.”