When Darkness Ends (Guardians of Eternity #12)(70)

“Then how do we get out?”

“We can’t.”

She sucked in a shocked breath, revealing the first crack in her grim composure.

“Are you shitting me?” she rasped, the scent of stewed plums filling the air. “We’re stuck in this . . . illusion for eternity? Just the two of us.” The emerald eyes darkened with an indecipherable emotion. “I must have died and gone to hell.”

Outrage flared through him. How dare she imply that it would be a punishment to spend an infinity in his company? She should only be so lucky.

Aggravating female.

“Fey don’t believe in hell,” he said stiffly.

“I do now,” she muttered, hunching her shoulders. “So what do we do? Sit here and twiddle our toes for the next millennium?”

His annoyance was forgotten as he caught a glimpse of the fear she was trying so hard to hide.

She was terrified beneath her prickly sarcasm.

Barely aware he was moving, he stepped forward, his voice unconsciously gentle.

“I said we couldn’t get out, but the spell is connected to the druid.”

“And?”

His fingers brushed a soothing caress over her cheek. “Eventually I’ll follow the trail of magic to its source.”

Her expression was guarded, although he was pleased to note she didn’t try to pull away from his touch.

“You really think you can?”

This time he didn’t take offense at her seeming lack of confidence in his abilities. Eventually she would be forced to admit that he possessed more than superior manners and an exquisite taste in clothing.

For now he contented himself with opening his senses to the thread of magic that he’d latched on to as they’d stepped out of the portal.

He didn’t doubt that it belonged to the druid who’d cast the spell. Which meant it was only a matter of time before he managed to get a lock on the bastard’s exact location.

Then there would be no mistake that he possessed more than his fair share of power.

“Yes,” he said, deliberately concentrating on the illusion around them.

Before, he simply nudged their surroundings, searching for the way out of the maze. This time, he actively molded the magic to create the image he wanted.

With a wave of his hand the darkness was replaced by a brilliant blue sky and dazzling sunlight. Another wave and the field was a carpet of green grass with a babbling brook in the distance.

“But first you need to rest,” he said.

“Oh.” The imp glanced around in surprise, her eyes widening as she glanced down at the daisies that were springing to life around his feet. “Does that always happen?”

He shrugged. “When I stay in one place long enough.”

She appeared oddly fascinated by the flowers that now began to spread among the grass.

“Amazing,” she breathed.

Magnus squashed the ridiculous urge to show off with a burst of power that would create a profusion of blossoms. Instead, he concentrated on creating a blanket along with several plates of food so Tonya could replenish her strength.

Taking her hand, he urged her to take a seat on the blanket, waiting until she was settled before he was joining her and reaching for one of the plates.

“Are you hungry?”

“I’m starving,” she admitted, taking the plate and studying the fresh fruit and bread that was dipped in honey. “Is it real?”

“Of course.”

She gingerly grabbed a slice of the bread, taking a bite. Her eyes slid closed as she relished the food without apology.

Magnus watched in fascination. This female was no delicate princess and yet there was a raw earthiness that enchanted him in a way he couldn’t explain.

“Yum,” she moaned, opening her eyes and leaning forward so she could press the bread to his lips. “Here. Try it.”

He pulled back, suspicious of her teasing. “What are you doing?”

“Don’t you want a taste?”

“I . . . yes.” He took the bread from her hand, his gaze never wavering from her face. “You puzzle me.”

She reached for a golden pear. “What do you mean?”

“One minute you are snapping at me and the next you are feeding me,” he said.

“You make me crazy,” she muttered, sinking her teeth into the soft flesh of the fruit.

Magnus groaned as she licked the juice from her lips.

Was she being deliberately provocative? Not that it mattered.

He was hard. Aching. The need to have her in his arms was a force that overwhelmed everything.

Including the fact that they were trapped in a druid spell.

“The feeling is mutual,” he assured her, leaning forward to wrap his arm around her waist.

Then, with one tug, he had her lying across his lap, the food forgotten.

He studied her with a brooding gaze, his hand cupping her face as he tried to determine what it was about this woman that continued to captivate him.

She trembled, her body molding against him with remarkable perfection.

“Magnus?” she breathed.

“Hush,” he murmured.

He didn’t want to talk. Or think. He just wanted to feel.

“Don’t tell me—”

He stole the words from her lips as he crushed her mouth in a kiss that demanded her complete and utter surrender.