His Captive Sorceress

Chapter 47: His Desire

Author's Note:

Dear Wattpad review team. All characters in this scene are 20 years old and 24 years old, and they are in a loving consensual relationship.

Rain patters off the apartment roof. The night wind rattles our window shutters, whistling through small gaps between the wood.

Trevus is seated, and I'm pacing back and forth, my thoughts unable to settle. Lord Asarus tracked me down when I was just ten years old. He abducted me, tearing away everything I knew and stealing a decade of my life.

If Mehlia hadn't died and Asarus didn't have to flee Versillia, what would have happened to me? Reger wanted a sorceress too, but Mephians revere sorcery. Versillians want nothing to do with it.

Discovering that wanted poster set Asarus on the hunt again, perhaps this time with the intent to follow through with his plan. But why wait until after I escaped the tower? His militia set off from Antiock, so he'd know where they returned and imprisoned me. As a wealthy Versillian lord, he could have bribed someone to retrieve the young girl in the tower. Surely that would have been simpler than waiting until now, where I'm free to travel where I please?

"My offer still awaits," Trevus says. "If you wish to interrogate him, I can facilitate it."

We could go after him – Trevus wouldn't say that if it wasn't possible. I could have answers.

"Be warned that embarking on such a venture risks forfeiting the future you desire," Trevus says. "Oartha is but a few days walk south, a sprawling textile manufacturing city too vast for an exiled lord to comb."

I've learned more about tailoring in the last two weeks than through the rest of my life. We could resettle in Oartha. Finding a new apprenticeship shouldn't be difficult. I could build myself up further, and eventually have a store of my own. Asarus would be nothing but a memory.

But there's so much about my past I don't understand. Why did Asarus abduct me? Why weren't my parents around to protect me? Why do I have this connection? All of these seemed impossible to answer until today. Even meeting the Mephian Council of Six revealed nothing about why I am this way.

"You may expend a monumental effort, only to discover a painful, disappointing truth," Trevus says. He worked tirelessly to find his mother, only to learn that she had long since lost her life because of my mistake.

Finding Asarus is my opportunity to make sense of why my life took this direction. Everything has already happened. My childhood in Mephia was already stolen. It doesn't matter how grim a truth I discover.

"I want to talk to him," I say.

Trevus rises to his feet. "If that is your wish, we embark at dawn."

It's not long before our single bag is packed – the same one Giddius passed us escaping Lystra. We're carrying a sleeping pouch to share, Asarus's book of old tongue, our change of clothes, Trevus's botany supplies and some cookware. The rest of the space is reserved for food and water.

Trevus takes a seat on the bed, studying the map from Asarus's office. Once our route is planned, he folds and tucks it in his pocket.

My eyes trace over the furnishings of our home, devoid of light besides the wavering candle on our bedside table. I was so excited the first time I stepped into this room, and now we're leaving it all behind.

I sit beside Trevus, the sheets shifting under my form. He wraps his arm around my frame, pulling me closer.

I lean against him, my head resting on his shoulder, moving ever so slightly with his breathing. Am I letting the past ruin my future? I spent ten years yearning to be free, to have someone who would care, and I finally do. Now we're postponing a peaceful life. I may have to use my connection again, and Trevus may have to raise a sword again. With all our time here, he never purchased a new one. It was a part of his life he was hoping to be done with. What if he changes his mind about this, about me?

"If it may console you, regardless of what this venture brings, you need not fear," he says.

I hug him tight. He kisses the top of my head. I nudge closer to him, pressing my body against his warmth.

His fingers trace from my neck to my chin, raising my gaze to meet his own. His deep lake-blue eyes leave me struck. His low eyebrows, defined jaw and sharp features make my insides bubble.

He touches my chest, gently pressing until I lie flat on the bed.

He plants his hands on either side of my shoulders, positioning his frame over mine. The bed sinks under his weight. He has the strength of a warrior but the heart of a healer. I love him.

I reach up to his chest, feeling the firm build under his shirt.

He leans in, careful to keep his weight on his arms. He's always careful.

He kisses my chin, his lips tracing along my jaw and approaching my ear. His ticklish stubble makes me giggle. My chest grows warm at the feeling of his breath.

His lips meet my neck. "Jade," his deep voice whispers just an inch from my ear. I love the way he says my name. "You are my desire."

I thread my hands between the seam of his black shirt, popping the buttons open from top to bottom.

He straightens up and frees his arms from his shirt, his knees straddling my legs. His frame towers over mine, but I feel none of the anxiety I once did around authoritative men. I'm safe with him.

My eyes rake over his perfect chest, the subtle ridges and valleys that mark his lean muscle - muscle built not for aesthetic but from years of sparring. Everything about him breathes purpose, from the fighting muscle in his chest to his quest to rescue me. He's a man who knows what he wants and will do everything in his power to obtain it. And in this moment, he wants me.

His hands rest on my thighs, sending a spark to my chest. He slides his palms up my side, raising my dress up further and further, exposing my hips, my midriff and my chest. I arch my back. The dress is lifted over my head and tossed to the side.

I'm bare beneath him, my legs still hugged between his, with only the julite necklace left in place. He leans in to kiss my middle, but I hold him back with both hands on his broad shoulders.

He pauses, his eyes returning to mine.

"There's only one part of my future I fear losing," I whisper.

He shifts forward, bringing us eye to eye, his weight resting on sturdy arms on either side of my frame. "What is it you fear to forfeit?"

"You."

He caresses my cheek with a featherlight touch, his soft smile just discernible under the dim candlelight. "Then you have nothing to fear, Jade of Mephia." His lips meet mine, taking a deep kiss and stealing my breath.

Heat explodes in my chest like fire. My arms tremble, my eyes closed as I focus on every place his body touches mine. I give myself to him. There's no better man. He can have every part of me.

He shifts lower, kissing my chin. My skin radiates under his lips.

His kisses move lower, to my collarbone...

Lower, to my chest...

Lower, to my heart...

Lower, to my middle...

Lower...

Author's Note:

I hope you enjoyed the chapter. This one was a little different, but I believe it's what many have been waiting for. I was inspired to write it after some of the comments on previous chapters.

Schedule change – I maintained a two update per week schedule by having a large portion of the story drafted before publishing began. Now I've run past that drafted story, and publishing two new chapters a week is feeling unsustainable. All the delays recently are showing that I'm struggling to keep up. To ensure I keep a consistent schedule, I'll now be publishing one chapter per week – every Saturday (or Sunday). I hope to return to two per week in the future if I can get ahead again.