Page 48 of Secrets of Avalon

Melinda's voice hitches, tears welling in her eyes. "But the Inquisitors found us. They killed everyone - my stepfather, our friends. I couldn't control my magick. I couldn't save them. But I did avenge them."

I press a soft kiss to her temple, my own eyes stinging with sympathy. Taking life is hard. Even if it was a righteous kill, it will live with her forever. "It wasn't your fault, Melinda. You did everything you could. And they would’ve killed you too, right?"

“Yes. They would’ve.”

“You were defending yourself. You survived.”

She nods her head, burying her face in my chest. "It was the first time I used my magick on purpose like that. The first time I didn’t try to hold it back. Nimue found me after they were all dead. She brought me to the dragon world first, to Kellan. And then here, to Avalon. To you."

I don’t trust Nimue. Even though I know her goal is to get the High Council to open the Earth door, she’s working with the rebellion. And the rebellion’s ultimate goal is to free the queen–the reason we had to abandon Earth in the first place, the reason the Fae lost everything.

I cup Melinda’s chin, tilting her face up to meet my gaze. "I'm so sorry for everything you've been through. But I promise you, you're safe now. We'll figure this out together."

She looks up and searches my eyes, a flicker of hope amidst the sorrow. "You really believe that? Even with my magick?"

"Especially with your magick," I affirm, my thumb tracing the delicate line of her jaw. "It's a part of you, just like my soul shard. We're meant to be together, Melinda. I feel it with every fiber of my being."

She leans into my touch, her eyes drifting shut. "I want to believe that. I want it so badly it hurts."

"Then believe it," I whisper, my lips a hairsbreadth from hers. "Believe in us." I close the remaining distance, sealing my vow with a tender kiss on her lips.

“Kellan will be mad,” she says softly against my lips.

“Will you?”

The tiniest of head shakes. “No.” She turns in my lap and puts her arms around my neck. “Not at all.”

Our lips meet again, this time with a fervor that threatens to consume us both. Her fingers tangle in my hair, pulling me closer as if she can't bear even the slightest space between us. I respond in kind, my hands sliding up her back, tracing the delicate curve of her spine through the thin fabric of the towel. The blanket has fallen away.

The kiss deepens, a dance of tongues and shared breaths, a communion of souls. In this moment, nothing else exists - not the looming threats, not the uncertainties of our future. There is only Melinda, the taste of her, the feel of her in my arms.

Her lips against mine send a wave of warmth through me, melting away my fears. Every sensation is heightened, igniting a primal hunger within. My heart pounds in sync with hers, echoing the depth of our connection.

The warmth of her body against mine is a soothing balm, grounding me in the present. My senses are filled with her: the scent of her hair, the feel of her skin, the sound of her breaths mingling with mine. It's as if my entire being is attuned to her, every nerve ending alive with the electric thrill of our closeness.

As our tongues dance together, a sense of peace and rightness envelops me. This is where I belong, where we both belong. The feral part of me, usually straining at the leash, is calm and content in this moment, soothed by her presence. The piece of my soul within her glows brightly, a beacon of our shared destiny, reinforcing the truth that we are meant to be together.

She straddles my lap, her heat seeping into me, igniting a primal need. I groan as she rocks against my growing arousal—a sweet torture promising more. Desire courses through me, barely contained.

My hands roam her body, mapping every curve and hollow with reverent awe. Each touch is a discovery, a sacred journey across her skin. I commit every sigh and shiver to memory, savoring the way her body responds to mine. She is a revelation, a balm to my battered soul, and I drink her in like a man starved, desperate to memorize every sensation.

Her skin is soft under my fingertips, smooth and inviting. I trace the delicate line of her spine. She arches into me, her breaths coming faster. Her warmth surrounds me, grounding me in the moment, making everything else fade into insignificance. The scent of her fills my senses, a mix of sweetness and something uniquely her, something intoxicating.

"Hawke," she breathes, my name a prayer on her lips. The sound sends a shiver down my spine, electrifying every nerve. Her eyes flutter open, dark with desire and something infinitely more profound. There's a depth there, a connection that goes beyond physical attraction. It's soul-deep, a recognition of our shared destiny.

"I've never felt like this before," she whispers, her voice trembling with emotion. "Like I'm finally where I'm meant to be."

I cup her face in my hands again, my thumbs brushing away the tears that spill down her cheeks. Her skin is warm and soft beneath my touch, and a fierce protectiveness wells up inside me. "You are my everything, Melinda. My heart, my soul, my reason for being. I will love you and protect you until my last breath."

For a moment, her eyes shine with a radiant joy, and I think we might be able to hold onto this happiness. But her expression shifts. The joy on her face fades to sorrow, and it steals the air from my lungs. A shadow falls over her features, and I see the weight of her fears return.

“It still doesn’t change the curse. Loving me… being with me will kill you.” Her voice is a broken whisper, and the despair in her words cuts through me like a sharp blade.

She tries to climb off my lap, her movements frantic and desperate, but I tighten my arms around her, trapping her close. “It won’t. Whatever this curse is… you’re in Avalon now. Not on Earth.”

More tears pour down her cheeks, each one a testament to the pain and fear she’s carried for so long. “My magick still hurts people. Nothing has changed. On Earth, when a woman with magick has a baby, the cost is the life of the father. Sometimes even more than just his. We’re taught never to have children with men we love because they’ll die. Every magickal birth has a deadly cost. It’s a curse.”

I stare at her, shock and disbelief warring within me as the pieces fall into place - her fear, her desperate attempts to push me away. But I refuse to let centuries of Earth superstition destroy us before we have a chance to begin.