Laurie Forest - The Black Witch

I swallow audibly, my heartbeat becoming erratic.

“Now,” he says silkily, “what’s this about your never having been kissed?”

I open my mouth to say something. To let him know that I don’t know how to kiss, and that I’m probably very bad at it, but before I can say anything, he raises my chin, leans in and brings his lips to mine with gentle pressure, all of my concerns instantly disappearing into a puff of smoke.

He lets his lips linger on mine briefly before pulling away a fraction and bringing his mouth close to my ear. “There,” he whispers softly. “Now you’ve been kissed.”

I’ve fallen into a complete daze. Aislinn was so very wrong about this.

I reach up tentatively and place my hands on his shoulders. I can feel the warmth of him through the silk of his tunic.

“You’re very beautiful,” he breathes as he leans in for another kiss.

His lips are more insistent this time, and I’m growing warm to his touch in a way I’ve never experienced, feeling as if I’m floating deeper and deeper into a dream. He slides his hand around my waist and pulls me in close. It feels so good to be kissed by him, to be so close to him—dangerously good. Better than the feel of smooth River Maple. Better than the velvety bark of the Verpacian Elm. Better than anything.

The feeling swells into a strong flash of sensation as if every piece of wood surrounding us fleetingly blazes with torchlight. The fire courses through me from my feet, through my body, heating my lips as a vision of dark, primordial forest fills my mind.

I gasp and pull back, the fire immediately dampening, the image blurred then gone.

Lukas looks momentarily stunned, his eyes gone wide, his hands tight around me.

“They told me about you,” I breathe, overwhelmed by the wild thrill of being with him. “They told me...that you’re powerful.”

Lukas’s eyes narrow in on me intently and he flashes me a disconcertingly wicked grin. “I am,” he says as he studies me. “But so are you. Perhaps even more so. I can sense it about you.” His fingers lightly trace along the back of my neck. “Only you don’t know it, do you?” His eyes darken. “Yet.”

My breath catches as he teasingly runs his thumb just above the collar on the back of my dress. It’s incredibly exciting and deeply alarming all at the same time.

I shake my head. “I only look like my grandmother. I’ve no magic.”

“Really,” Lukas says, cocking his head to one side contemplatively, his hand now resting loosely on my hip. “Have you ever picked up a wand, Elloren?”

“Not that I remember.”

His face takes on a darker look, the edges of his lips curling. “Well,” he says, pleased with this new knowledge, “we’ll just have to take care of that, as well.” He snakes his arm around my waist and leans in close. “You should be wandtested. By me.”

“Lukas!” a male voice calls from the hallway.

My body stiffens, my face reddening. Lukas, on the other hand, seems completely unfazed.

It’s Sylus Bane.

Sweet Ancient One, not another Bane. Not now.

Sylus’s eyes widen when he realizes who I am, then his gaze narrows, his mouth lifting in a jaded smirk. “Well, if it isn’t Mage Elloren Gardner! Fast work, Lukas. As usual, you have my complete and utter admiration.” He spits out a short laugh. “Just wait until Fallon gets wind of this...”

A creeping dread shivers up my spine. Fallon’s going to kill me.

“Is there a particular reason why you are so rudely interrupting us?” Lukas calmly asks.

There’s a chilly edge to his tone, and Sylus Bane’s smirk dampens. “Well,” Sylus explains, “we’re going...out. I assumed you’d be joining us. Unless, of course, you’re much too busy here?”

Lukas sighs and gives me a somewhat reluctant look. He turns to face Sylus. “I’ll meet you out front momentarily.”

Sylus grins wickedly, as if he’s won some secret contest, before he makes his exit. I relax a bit.

Lukas leans on the wall, one arm lightly around my waist.

I look closely at him. “Are you involved with Fallon Bane?”

He tilts his head and gives me a wry look. “I courted her. Briefly. Quite a while ago.”

“Oh.” I nod in complete understanding now.

He lets out a resigned sigh, his gaze level. “Our affinity lines clash. Disastrously, in my opinion, though obviously not in hers. She has a strong affinity for ice. I’ve none.” He rubs his fingers along my lower back, a delicious heat trailing his touch. His mouth tilts into a grin. “I’ve more of an affinity for fire.”

I hold his stare and imagine I could fall right into the smoldering green of it.

Trystan’s told me all about Mage affinities, how magic runs deep along elemental lines, every Mage possessing a different proportion of the five elementals: fire, earth, air, light and water, Trystan having leanings toward both fire and water magic.

I can sense Lukas’s magic. I can feel his fire.

Lukas has grown quiet and appears to be considering something.

“Come to the Yule dance with me,” he says.

“I don’t know what that is.”

“It’s a dance held every Yule at the University for Gardnerian scholars and graduates. Come with me.”

I swallow, not believing this is happening. It has to be a dream. “All right,” I say, nodding dumbly.

He grins widely and reaches up to play with my hair. “We should be getting back,” he says ruefully. “Your aunt will be wondering what became of you.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” I say, drawn in by his languid touch. “She seemed pretty happy to see us leave together.”

Overjoyed, actually.

“Yes, well...” he agrees, chuckling. He pulls away and offers me his arm. I thread my arm through his, part of me feeling oddly reckless, not wanting to leave, wanting to stay here alone with him, to feel the fire of his kiss light up the room.

When we reach the foyer, a group of young soldiers and military apprentices, Sylus amongst them, shout boisterously to Lukas. I look past them to see my brother Rafe approaching at a brisk pace, his eyes darting back and forth between Lukas and myself.

“Hey, Ren,” he greets me warmly.

I let go of Lukas’s arm and give my brother an affectionate hug.

“Where’s Trystan?” I ask, overjoyed to be with my brother again, but self-consciously aware of Lukas by my side.

“Trystan is staying with Gareth and his family,” Rafe tells me, smiling. “You know how much he loves large social gatherings.”

I laugh at this. “Where’s the harem that Trystan says you’re usually trailed by?” I tease.

He grins mischievously. “I just got here.” Rafe turns to Lukas, his smile becoming tight—less a friendly gesture, more a tiger bearing its teeth. “Giving my sister a tour, were you?”

“Something like that,” Lukas replies evenly.

Although Rafe is still smiling, his right arm clenches, his hand closing into a fist.

“How’s that bow arm of yours, Rafe?” Lukas asks pleasantly.

“Deadly accurate as ever, Lukas.”

Lukas turns to me, ignoring the sudden tension in the air. “I keep trying to get your brother to apprentice with the military. He could be very successful. Best tracker, best hunter...best Gardnerian archer I’ve ever seen. He’s a dangerous man, your brother.”

“Oh, now, I’m not all that dangerous, Lukas,” Rafe says, still smiling. “Not unless someone were to bother my little sister, that is.”

Lukas laughs at this. “I seriously doubt that she needs your protection, Rafe.”

Rafe’s eyes flicker toward me questioningly before lighting again on Lukas.

One of the soldiers calls out for Lukas to join them.

“I’ll let you two catch up with each other,” Lukas says. He takes my hand and leans to kiss the back of it, a smile on his lips. His touch sends a delicious chill down my spine and I struggle to maintain my composure. “Elloren, it’s been a pleasure meeting you,” he says, his eyes locked on mine. He straightens and turns to my brother. “Rafe,” he says as he tips his head to my brother in acknowledgment.