Awakened

hands began to explore my body. When he found the bottom edge of my T-shirt he hesitated, and it was during that tiny moment of hesitation that I made my decision. I wanted Stark. I wanted all of him. I pulled away from him so that I could look into his eyes. We were both breathing hard and he automatically leaned toward me, like he couldn’t stand not being pressed against my body.

“Wait.” I put my hand flat against his chest.

“Sorry.” His voice sounded gruff. “I didn’t mean to come on too strong.”

“No, that’s not it. You’re not coming on too strong. I just wanted to … well…” I hesitated, trying to make my mind work through the fog of desire I was feeling for him. “Ah, hell. I’ll show you what I want.” Before I could get shy or embarrassed, I stood up. Stark was watching me with an expression that was curiosity mixed with heat, but when I pulled off my shirt, undid and stepped out of my jeans, the curiosity went away and his eyes seemed to darken with the heat. I lay back down within the safety of his arms, loving the sensation of the roughness of his plaid against the smoothness of my naked skin.

“You’re so beautiful,” Stark said, tracing the pattern of my tattoo that wrapped around my waist. His touch made me tremble. “Are you scared?” he asked, pulling me closer.

“I’m not trembling because I’m scared,” I whispered against his lips between kisses. “I’m trembling because of how much I want you.”

“You’re sure?”

“Totally sure. I love you, Stark.”

“I love you, too, Zoey.”

Stark took me in his arms then, and with his hands and his lips, he blocked out the world, making me think only about him—want only to be with him. His touch banished the ugly memory of Loren, and the mistake I’d made giving myself to him, into the mists of the past. At the same time Stark soothed the hurt inside me left by Heath’s loss. I would always miss Heath, but he had been human, and as Stark made love to me I understood that I would have had to say goodbye to Heath eventually.

Stark was my future—my Warrior—my Guardian—my love.

When Stark unwrapped the MacUallis plaid from around his body and lay naked beside me, he bent and I felt his tongue first against the pulse at my neck, and then a brief, questioning touch of his teeth.

“Yes,” I said, surprised by the breathless, unfamiliar sound of my voice. I shifted my body so that Stark’s lips pressed more firmly against my neck, while I kissed the strong, smooth slope where his shoulder met his biceps. With my own wordless question, I let my teeth graze his skin.

“Oh, goddess, yes! Please, Zoey. Please.”

I couldn’t wait any longer. I nicked his skin at the same moment he bit gently into my neck, and with the warm, sweet taste of his blood my body was filled with our shared feelings. The bond between us was like fire—it burned and consumed, almost painful in its intensity. Almost unbearable in its pleasure. We clung to each other, mouths pressed against skin, body against body. All I could feel was Stark. All I could hear was the pounding of our hearts beating in time together. I couldn’t tell where I ended and he began. I couldn’t tell which pleasure was mine, and which was his. Afterward while I lay in his arms, our legs twined together, our bodies still slick with sweat, I sent a silent prayer to my Goddess: Nyx, thank you for giving Stark to me. Thank you for letting him love me.

* * *

We didn’t leave the grove for hours. Later I would remember that night as one of the happiest of my life. In the chaos of the future, the memory of being wrapped in Stark’s arms, sharing touches and dreams, and for that moment in time being completely, utterly content, would be something I cherished, like the warm glow of candlelight on the darkest of nights.

Much later we walked slowly back to the castle. Our fingers were threaded together, our sides brushed intimately. We’d just crossed the moat bridge, and I’d been so wrapped up in Stark that I hadn’t even noticed the staked heads. Actually, I hadn’t noticed much of anything until Aphrodite’s voice intruded.

“Oh, for shit’s sake. Could you two be more obvious?”

I lifted my head dreamily from Stark’s shoulder and saw Aphrodite standing in a pool of torchlight at the entrance to the castle, toe tapping in annoyance.

“My beauty, leave them be. They’ve earned their piece of happiness.” Darius’s deep voice came from the shadows beside her.

One fine blond eyebrow lifted mockingly. “I don’t think happiness is the piece she just gave Stark.”

“Seriously, even your crudeness can’t bother me right now,” I told her.

“It can bother me, though,” Stark said. “Shouldn’t you be pulling the wings off seagulls or the claws off crabs?”

Aphrodite acted like Stark hadn’t spoken and walked up to me. “Is it true?”

“Is what true? That you’re a pain in the butt?” I said.

Stark snorted. “That’s definitely true.”

“If it’s true, then you’re gonna have to tell him. I’m not listening to him blubber.” Aphrodite waved her iPhone around, using it to punctuate her words.

“Jeesh, you’re acting super crazy, even for you,” I said. “Do you need shopping therapy intervention? Is. What. True?” I spoke slowly, pretending she was an English-as-a-second-language-learner.

“Is it true what the Queen of Every Damn Thing Skye just told me—that you’re not leaving with us tomorrow? That you’re staying here?”

“Oh.” I shuffled my feet, wondering why I should feel guilty. “Yeah, that’s true.”

“Great. Just great. Then, like I said before, you tell him.”

“Who him?”

“Jack. Here. He’s gonna burst into snotty tears and ruin his makeup, which will make him boo-hoo even more. And I want nothing to do with gay snot. At all.” Aphrodite punched the screen of her phone. It was ringing when she handed it to me.

Jack sounded sweet but defensive when he answered. “Aphrodite, if you’re going to say something else mean about the Ritual, then I think you should just say nothing at all. Plus, I’m not going to listen to you because I’m busy defying gravity. So there.”

“Uh, hi, Jack,” I said.

I could almost see his smile blaze through the phone. “Zoey! Hi! Oooh, it’s so cool that you’re not dead, or even dead-like. Oh, oh, did Aphrodite tell you what we’re planning for tomorrow after you get back? Ohmigoddess, it’s going to be so totally cool!”

“No, Jack. Aphrodite didn’t tell me ’cause—”

“Goodie! I get to tell you. So, we’re going to have a special Dark Daughters and Sons Ritual of Celebration, like with proper nouns and such, because you being un-shattered is a big deal.”

“Jack, I have to—”

“No, no, no, you don’t have to do anything. I have it all handled. I even have the food planned, well, with Damien’s help, of course. I mean…”

I sighed and waited for him to take a breath.

“See, told ya,” Aphrodite said under her breath while Jack gushed. “He’s going to bawl when you burst his little pink bubble.”

“… and my favorite part is when you come into the circle I’m going to be singing ‘Defying Gravity.’ You know, like Kurt did on Glee, except I’m going to actually hit that high note. So what do you think?”

I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and said, “I think you’re a really good friend.”

“Oooh! Thank you!”

“But let’s postpone the Ritual.”

“Postpone? How come?” His voice already sounded trembly.

“Because…” I hesitated. Crap. Aphrodite was right. He probably was going to cry.

Stark pried the phone gently from my hand and tapped the speaker button.

“Hey there, Jack,” he said.

“Hi, Stark!”