The Opal Witch: Prophecy (Book Two)

Chapter Nineteen

Lux

Sheets of the finest silk twined around her body, barely covering her enough to keep her modesty. Not that it mattered. The man sleeping next to her had seen everything, and he hadn't found a single thing to complain about although she'd carried and suckled four sons.

She sat up, her russet curls spilling over her shoulders as she stretched. Every inch of her body felt worshiped, and if there had been better lovers than Lamorak before, they were not so much better she regretted her night with the man. Sometimes a woman needed to be reminded she was a woman.

She tugged on the sheet, hoping to wrap it around her as she moved about the room, but Lamorak's muscled thighs trapped it. Not wishing to wake him no matter how much she might enjoy another round, she released the bedding and slid from the warmth of their nest.

The stone floor was cold beneath her bare feet, and a cold draft whistled through the room, the fire lit before nightfall no longer strong enough to beat back the chill. Sneaking a look at her lover, she held her hand to the flames and willed them to be brighter. To burn hotter. But like so many times before, they did not heed her call. Magic remained barred to her- a curse of her humanity and one not even her sister Morgan could break.

Not in this life, at least. She touched the necklace hanging between her breasts. The milky white stone glowed in the darkness, and it was always warm to the touch. More than once she'd pressed Morgan to explain how this rock was going to give her the chance for revenge, but Morgan would only remind her to trust her. And she did. Just because she did not possess the ability to use magic did not mean she could not recognize it. Whatever this stone was, it was powerful indeed.

"Morgause," Lamorak called, his voice rough with sex and sleep. "What are you doing out of bed?"

She couldn't very well tell him she'd been planning on leaving, and now that he was awake, she rather thought it would be a waste to leave before he pinned her against the wall. He had promised to do so, and she believed promises were sacred.

"I was tending the fire," she purred, spinning around to face him, watching his eyes fall to her pebbled nipples. Lust burned brighter than the flames in the hearth. "But I can think of other ways to keep warm."

Pulling back the covers, he crooked a finger at her, and she went willingly into his embrace. Like before, there were no tender words shared between them, no gentle caresses. They were both there to take from the other.

"You little minx," he growled when her nails dug into his back, but from the way his eyes blackened, she knew he enjoyed the sharp pain mingling with pleasure.

Head dropping back, a breathy moan passed her lips as he enacted his revenge for her scrapes. If this was punishment, she would gladly take it often.

"Lamo-"

The slamming of a door against the wall cut off her cry, and the couple sprang apart as a furious young man stormed into the room. With his sword held aloft and his expression twisted, she almost didn't recognize him.

"Gaheris," she said, raising a shaking hand to plead for her life. When the sword swung toward her, she had the fleeting thought that magic could have saved her. Then there was nothing.

"Lux! Lux!"

Lux jolted upright in bed, her hand flying to her neck and groping upward to confirm her head was still attached. The sensation of sharp steel slicing through tendon and windpipe was all too real, and she nearly fainted in relief to find it had been a dream.