Lightness Falling (Lightness Saga Book 2) Read online

  Where was I?

  “Breathe, li’l Druid.” The man sat down on my bed, dipping the mattress. His hand curled around mine, placing it on his chest, his heartbeat firm under my palm. The rhythm was soothing and centered my attention on the bare chest. “This is real. You are in Germany. You are safe.”

  I gulped back the fear knotted in my throat, feeling awareness seeping in.

  1.) Lorcan.

  2.) Germany.

  3.) Hiding.

  4.) In a flat in the town of Freiburg.

  Lorcan’s thumb rubbed over the back of my hand, his heartbeat and slow inhales brought me back, giving me rope to hang on to. The speed of my recovery startled me.

  For the last year, my visions had eased in frequency, but the aftermath was far worse. Many night guards would burst into my room finding me in the corner of the room shaking and crying, muttering nonsense, pinching my ear till it was bruised. Even when I finally came to understand I was back in body, I felt like I was floating and any moment could drift off again. On genuinely bad days, it would take me a whole day to feel steady on earth.

  “Tell me what you hear.” His voice was low and calming, knowing the list I used even as a child, to center myself.

  Scanning over the room, I took a deep breath. “I hear your voice. The sound of raindrops against the window. The cuckoo clock ticking in the kitchen.”

  “What do you smell?”

  Taking another deep breath, I shut my lids. “I smell you. Woodsy, masculine, with a tiny bit of sweet.” I wanted to roll in his scent. It was an aphrodisiac. “Also cheap laundry soap and dust.”

  “Feel?”

  “Your skin. Warm. Your heartbeat. Scratchy bedsheet.” I felt my shoulders starting to relax.

  Without a word or needing a prompt, Lorcan’s fingers trailed through my hair, over my ear, squeezing my earlobe, proving he was true.

  The slight sting was the final step I required. I slumped over, the top of my head leaning into Lorcan’s chest.

  He went rigid.

  The moment I touched him, I realized what I did. The familiarity of our old routine had taken over effortlessly. I hadn’t even thought about it.

  Now it suffocated the air. Tension bowed between us like arches, and I scooted back, moving away from him.

  “Can you tell me about it?” He cleared his throat, inching away from me as well, his voice void of emotion.

  “Just bits and pieces. There was an explosion. I remember screaming, glass shattering... lots of blood and bodies.”

  “What else?”

  I wagged my head, not wanting to talk about the constant elephant in the room. Jared.

  “You forget, li’l Druid, I can tell when you’re not telling me everything.” His gaze met mine, burning through me. He didn’t even have to touch me and every nerve came out of their coma, zapping to life with force.

  He glanced away, his hand sliding over his head, rubbing furiously, like he sensed the change in me. He probably did. Another thing I could never hide from the dweller. He could hear my heartbeat, smell my arousal.

  I missed him. So much. For the first time in months, I felt at peace. I wanted to bury myself in his arms and never come out again. Give over to the need and desire. But that was the problem. He made me weak, made me want things that could never be. I leaned in to the bed frame until it groaned under the pressure.

  “Don’t call me that either.” I pinned my lips firmly together defiantly, like a child.

  He stared at me, his eyes expressionless, before he stood and walked away from the bed. He padded over to the galley kitchenette in the attic-converted flat. It was small, with one main room, and plain Ikea furniture, but it had lots of windows and skylights. A balcony overlooked the old village square. It was a good place to keep watch on the activity below.

  “Go back to sleep. You need it.”

  “Me?” I shoved off the covers, my feet hitting the icy wood floors. “You look like you haven’t slept in months.”

  “Try a year,” he mumbled, flicking on the electric kettle. He reached for the coffee cups and instant grounds. The apartment was stocked with items that wouldn’t go bad, which left mostly spices, sugar, tea, coffee, and one package of tea biscuits.

  “A year?” I came up next to him, my chilled skin already seeking his warmth. The T-shirt I slept in scarcely covered the tops of my thighs.

  Lorcan shot me a look before returning to making coffee, emptying three packets into one cup.

  “Wait. Are you blaming me?” Ignoring me he poured hot water into his mug. His unspoken words were fire to the dried timber twisting around my spine for so long. “How is it my fault?”

  He grunted, moving away from me, gulping the thick black liquid, and went out onto the veranda.

  “Lorcan!” I exclaimed, my arms flailing as I trailed after him onto the sodden balcony. The brisk air and raindrops assaulted my exposed skin, goosebumps springing over my flesh. He only wore thin flannel bottoms, but his skin didn’t react to the cold at all. It helped having an inner beast to keep you warm.

  “Don’t walk away from me.” I folded my arms, disregarding the puddle I stepped in or the light drizzle sprinkling down.

  He leaned his elbows on the rail, bending over until his head touched his arms, a low growl emanating from him.

  “Is this how it’s going to be for the unforeseeable future? One of us about to toss the other over the side?”

  He slammed his cup down on the small round outdoor table, swinging around to me, his eyes flashing. “How do you want it to be, Kennedy?” he snarled. “What did you expect?”

  “I-I…”

  “The role of rug-under-your-feet or lapdog is already taken, Majesty.”

  I sucked in, stepping back, feeling the bitterness slap me harder than the chilly air. The shock of his words drenched my anger in gasoline.

  “And what did you expect? I sit at home and mourn for you? I don’t have the luxury.” I regained my lost footing, folding my arms tight against my chest. “And why do you even care? I’ve heard enough rumors about you screwing every woman from here to Brazil!”

  Red flared in his irises, his muscles coiling tight under his skin. “And why should you care who I fuck?”

  “I don’t.”

  “Liar.” He strode to me, his toes barely brushing mine, water rolling in trails over his shoulders. I kinked back my neck, keeping my glare fixed on him. “Jealous, are we?”

  I was. Completely. But he would never hear it from me. “No.” I shook my head. Rain sputtered down until my hair clung to my face and my shirt adhered to my body.

  “Really?” He inched closer to me. His nearness raised my fury, but the line to the flip side was thin as tissue paper. “Don’t tell me the idea of my dick in someone else doesn’t make you crazy. That it’s not buried deep inside of you instead.”

  Oh. God. My mouth went dry. My body responded instantly to his words, need curling in my stomach. I despised he could make me feel this way.

  “To know someone else was screaming my name while I was between their thighs?”

  I turned my head to the side, not able to keep eye contact. My breath came short and choppy as I recalled exactly how it felt.

  “What? Your Knight in shining armor doesn’t fuck like I can?”

  I shot my gaze back to him.

  “At least with him, you’d be able to face your friends, right? Keep Jared’s love in its untainted bubble?”

  “Fuck you,” I seethed.

  “So there is still spunk underneath.” He tilted his head. “Glad to see she’s somewhere underneath that Disney façade.”

  “How dare you.” My hand shoved at his chest, my wet hair swinging in clustered strands. “You have no idea what I have to do to get through each day. My feelings no longer matter. I can’t mourn like everyone else. I have to keep going, provide everyone else support and strength, while every day I get threatened and attacked... verbally and physically. I’m not allowed to be scared or cra
wl in a ball and cry. Or fuck an entire country of men to feel better,” I yelled as my hand continually smacked his chest. “Everything I do is up for judgment. Every move and decision. I’m no longer my own person... they own me.”

  “No one owns you.” His chest pushed back against my hands. “Not unless you let them.”

  My brutal laugh echoed off the roof. “Easy for you to say.”

  “They don’t have all of you, li’l bird.”

  “Ahhhh!” I slammed into his chest with so much force he stumbled back. “Stop! Stop it! Don’t call me that! You have no clue how hard this is for me.” Only two words and they felt like they could break me, shatter me into a million pieces no one could ever glue back together. I held on to myself by mere threads, trying to keep my feet in the real world, my mind sane, and my heart from fracturing.

  He grabbed my swinging arms and pushed me against the wall. He pinned my arms against the rough surface, his entire frame flush with mine, forcing me to feel every inch of him. Every hard inch.

  “You think I haven’t a clue how hard this is?” he rumbled, his pupils elongating. “You think this is easy for me?”

  I couldn’t talk as my body absorbed the sensation of him. My hips opened, allowing him to get even closer. His nose flared; his eyes reddened. It would be so easy, a slight pull of his sweats, a tug of my underwear...

  “I think of him every day.” Lorcan pressed in, tipping his hips into me, spiraling logic out of my ears like curly fries. “The guilt consumes me, eats me alive.”

  My T-shirt soaked with water left nothing to the imagination. With each breath, my breasts rubbed his torso, pleasure tingling through my nerves. His grip on my wrists tightened, his hips moving into me.

  Oh hell squared…I wanted this. I wanted him.

  “Half the time I can’t even think about you without feeling sick... with myself, with what we did to him…” Lorcan licked his bottom lip, my gaze snapping to his mouth, my back arching in response.

  “And the other half?” I whispered, my eyes locked on what I wanted, raindrops slipping off them. To know their taste again. He let out a staggered breath, angling closer to me. His answer swelled against my hip.

  “The other half…” Lorcan’s mouth was barely a sliver from mine.

  Somewhere in my lust-hazed head, a strange ringing arose from the house till it seeped outside into the early morning.

  “Lorcan. Pick up.” The Unseelie King’s voice came from the phone inside, jolting us apart. An invisible guillotine cut between us, shredding the moment in pieces at our feet.

  Lars had his hand in many pots and one of them used magic to improve technology. Some things were a success, other things still needed work. I wasn’t sure which this communication device fell under. It was like a long-distance walkie-talkie but had even more secure lines. Lately he had installed a feature which allowed him to talk without us answering it. He was working on getting it to security level with video.

  “Shit.” Lorcan jerked his head toward the door leading inside. Running his hand over his head, a deep growl trembled over his lips before he started inside.

  The moment he disappeared from sight, my head crashed back into the wall, my erratic breath trying to find a rhythm. The ringing and voice stopped the same time Lorcan spoke.

  “What?” His curt tone boomed from inside.

  “Excuse me?” The King responded with the same rudeness.

  “Lars, it’s early. I’m not exactly in the best mood right now. What do you want…sir?”

  Lars paused like he was deciding either to allow Lorcan’s insolence or ignore it. Eventually he cleared his throat. “I have made contact with several of the nobles in the area. Two days hence, we will be meeting with them in Zurich. Be at the Hotel Baur au Lac at midnight. Penthouse.”

  Without ceremony, Lars clicked off.

  “Asshole,” Lorcan muttered.

  I stared out at the rooflines of the old town; spires from the church vanished into the curling fog. The smell of baking bread from some local shop drifted up to me, my stomach gurgling. My body shivered in the crisp air, but my head cleared. Clarity of mind is a double-edged sword. Either way, I would get impaled. At least we hadn’t gotten too far. This misstep could be taken back. The other...

  I covered my face with my hands, scrubbing the images from my brain.

  “I’m guessing you heard everything?” Lorcan said. My neck craned to where he stood in the doorway. His demeanor had changed from what it was moments ago. Aloof. Emotionless. My eyes met his, and he glanced away, staring out on the village. “It’s freezing out here, and you’re soaked. I’ll go get us some breakfast while you shower.”

  I couldn’t deny the hurt, but we both knew this was for the best. It would have only been worse later.

  “And real coffee.” I pushed off the wall, walking toward the patio doors. His gaze drifted down, the thin, wet shirt not hiding anything.

  I folded my arms, brushing by him haughtily. “It’s cold.”

  “Sure.” He snorted, not buying it either.

  I grabbed my bag and headed for the bathroom.

  “At least yours aren’t blue,” he mumbled as I closed the door between us. My hand moved to the doorknob with the desire to reopen it, invite him in. I twisted the lock and backed away, not trusting myself.

  Being around him was like being a sober alcoholic working in a bar. The temptation was everywhere, constantly whispering in my ear to take a little sip, but I would spiral out of control with one taste.

  This was going to be the longest forty-eight hours ever.

  NINE

  My stomach ached, already stuffed with delicious cheeses, meats, and pretzel bread that cart after cart offered in abundance. But the sweet smell of pastries, cake, molasses cookies, apple cider, and hot chocolate hooked my nose, dragging me to the next booth. The vendors at the farmers market didn’t care if I had to pop the top button of my jeans. The crisp, overcast day screamed for me to indulge in the warm tasty treats.

  I wasn’t going to sit around in a small apartment while the quaint old town of Freiburg called my name from below, asking me to come out and play. Going to Greece almost a year and a half ago to find the sword was the first time I had been to Europe. And that certainly hadn’t been a vacation. I saw the inside of more caves than I cared to remember.

  Lorcan could huff and puff all he wanted, but I was going to enjoy the tiny splinter of time away from my royal duties I was allotted here.

  Tucked deep under my hood, it was freeing to be an ordinary tourist. No one knew who I was, which I’d come to yearn for in the last year. At home, my image was everywhere, on everything. What I wore, how I moved, the way I talked…all critiqued and written about. Humans and fae weren’t much different when it came to gossip and dissecting their “royals.” No matter what I did, some would find something wrong with it, while others held me up on this strange pedestal with no faults.

  It felt nice simply being me.

  “Jesus, I forgot how much you can eat.” Lorcan snickered as I took the warm molasses cookies and hot chocolate from the vendor.

  I shot him a look, shoving a small cookie into my mouth. Growing up, my parents had to force me to eat. I ate because I had to, never truly enjoying it like everyone else did until I went through Druid “puberty” two years ago. Food became almost orgasmic, and the amount I inhaled tripled, my body quickly burning the energy as my magic demanded more. My hormones also raged out of control, emotions whiplashed, and my appetite for food and sex increased tenfold.

  My emotions had since curbed, but the other two were still on high. And I was starting to think it wasn’t a hormonal thing anymore. Just me.

  “Don’t they feed you at that castle of yours?” He nudged past me, speaking against my ear, his breath heating my neck. “Or is this covering what you are truly ravenous for?”

  My fingers curled around my cup, knuckles turning white. My mouth thinned in a tight line.

  He glanced over hi
s shoulder at me, a side grin on his mouth, clearly enjoying he could still get a rise out of me.

  If he only knew his mere presence was enough to get a rise from me. This afternoon was no different. In jeans, black puffy jacket, and beanie, he took me back to another time, when I was ankle deep in snow, working on my magic. Before the war... before… us.

  I shook my head.

  “Wow, someone lost her sense of humor. Lack of good sex can do that.”

  He was baiting me. I should be an adult and not let him get to me. Should.

  “How do you know I’m not having extremely good sex?” I bumped his shoulder as I walked by, dodging a flailing child with sticky fingers as his mother trailed behind with a napkin. The market was full of locals and tourists, the on-and-off drizzle not dissuading the crowd from their shopping or tasting the local goods. The village felt like a movie set with its cobblestone roads and the mixture of curved and A-lined roofs and a gothic church with ornate steeples. Munsterplatz, the main plaza, was like stepping back into the 1400s or 1500s. I was in love.

  Lorcan caught up with me. “Because you forget, li’l bird, I know what you are like after you’ve had extremely good sex.” He winked, heat flushing into my veins. He turned to a cart, indicating to the vendor he wanted a beer. The man nodded, pouring him one from a wooden barrel.

  Extremely good seemed a pathetic definition for what that time with Lorcan had been. My mind could barely graze over it without overheating and blushing so deeply people probably thought I had the flu.

  “But I guess it’s my fault. Your first time and you had the best…can’t go back after that, huh? No one else will ever be as fulfilling.”

  He’s baiting you, Ken. Don’t fall for it.

  “Believe me, it is better.” I lifted my chin, trying to appear I wasn’t lying so completely through my teeth. Not only did I doubt anything could be better, I hadn’t had sex since Lorcan, which had left me restless and agitated for a good part of the year. If he wanted to assume Torin and I were doing it, why not let him?