Echo (The Soul Seekers #2)(13)
Leaving me so dizzy with his touch, I can’t help but whisper, “Though I have seen enough movies to know this is how it starts…”
My fingers inch lower, peeling his briefs from his hips, as he rids me of my underthings. Absorbed by the sheer glorious sight of him, I allow my hands to roam the curve of his shoulders, the taut muscles of his chest, the lean valley of his abdomen. My skin sliding deliciously against his when he pulls me tightly to him, trails his lips over my flesh, and eases his body into mine.
I gasp—stunned by a sharp stab of pain that’s soon eased by his hips pressing and circling, as his heart pulses wildly. And it’s not long before I lose myself in sensation. In the feel of him—the magick of him—the euphoria of him.
All of him.
Surrendering to the wave of splendor rolling through me—leaving me untethered—released. Floating free of my body. Soaring beside him.
Two souls ascending at dizzying speed—swirling through constellations—skimming across a bright pool of stars.
The words unspoken but true all the same: This is the moment that joins us—unites as—for all of eternity.
His gaze never once leaving mine, he cradles my face in his hands and guides me back toward the earth where he draws me into his arms and nestles his body around me. His face buried in my hair, he breathes deeply, slowly, seeking rhythm with mine, as I fight to hang on to the moment. Desperate to fend off all thoughts of the real world but not coming close to succeeding, I say, “I refuse to feel guilty.”
Dace lifts himself onto his elbow and stares down at me, unsure of my meaning.
“For this.” I roll over to face him, flattening my palm against his taut bare chest, aware of his heart beating against it. “I refuse to feel guilty for us—for pausing the hunt to be with you.” My gaze burns on his, wanting so badly for the words to be true. But with so much chaos occurring around us, it’s a pretty tough sale. Still, I go on to add, “I’ve been down here for hours. I was an exhausted wreck when Raven led me to you. And look, the spring really did heal me.” I wiggle my finger as proof, smiling when he latches onto it, curls his around it.
“Daire, you don’t have to make excuses,” he says. “Love is the highest energy of all. It needs no forgiveness, no apology.”
“I like when you say it.” I grin. “In fact, I was wondering when you’d get around to it.”
He laughs, tossing his head back and exposing a glorious column of neck. “That’s a pretty big declaration to put out there, you know. Guess I wanted to be sure there was a chance it might be reciprocated.”
I study him closely. Amused he couldn’t see what I thought was so clear. “Did you seriously doubt me?” I slide my leg across his, reveling in the deliciousness of his skin.
He smiles softly, focusing his gaze on the vines overhead. He summons a glorious red bloom to his fingers and tucks it into my hair. “You can be a little guarded sometimes—a little tough to read.” He shrugs.
“Oh yeah?” I grin. “Then tell me, Dace Whitefeather, how would you read this?” I pull him back to me.
He replies with a kiss.
seven
“I’m glad this place was spared.” I pull my sweater back over my head, as Dace pulls on his jeans. “It really is enchanted, able to heal itself—just like it healed me.”
I look to Dace for confirmation, but he’s no longer listening, his attention’s been claimed.
“What is it?” I start toward him, halting when he turns, presses a finger to his lips, then continues creeping ahead.
I snatch my jacket from the ground, shrug it onto my shoulders, and rush to catch up. Nearly smacking into his back when he stops without warning, only to peer past his shoulder and find a familiar coyote with gleaming red eyes and Dace’s twin brother Cade standing beside it.
So this is where he’s been all this time.
His ultimate plan—despite a few hitches—has been a success.
Those undead Richters—initially fueled on the pure love and goodness of Paloma’s soul, which allowed them to breach the Lowerworld—a world long denied them—have managed to wreak just enough havoc, just enough damage and corruption, to allow Cade the admittance he sought all along.
Clearly reminded of the last time we met when he ripped a hole in my jeans and I reciprocated by slamming my foot in his snout, Coyote lowers his head, flattens his ears, and springs into attack. His burning red gaze fixed on mine, he comes at me in a blur of glistening fangs and razor-sharp claws. Jaw gaping wide as though starved for my flesh, about to claim a piece, when Dace shoves before me, offering himself in my place.
I shriek in horror, regain my footing, and try to intervene, only to have Dace drive his shoulder into mine and push me away once again. Somehow managing to stand his ground, as Coyote descends on him in a snarling rage. Clamping hard on Dace’s arm, he tears at his flesh, savagely biting him again and again, until Cade calls him off by grabbing the beast by the neck and dragging him back to his side. Leaving Dace’s arm a mess of bite marks and blood I try to attend to, but his pride won’t allow it.
Sparing an impassive glance at Dace’s wound, Cade says, “A noble display, brother. Very noble indeed. And yet also incredibly, absurdly na?ve.” He makes a face of disdain, then turns to me with an icy-blue gaze fixed on the bloom still tucked in my hair. “Trust me when I say you couldn’t protect her if you tried. Only I can do that.”