Destroyed by Onyx (A Dance with Destiny Book 4) (22 page)

“And why’s that?” He lightly kissed the soft spot between her breasts. “Will you not be seeing me every day for centuries?” He smiled as he nibbled at her belly.

“Perhaps. We shall see. One can never tell what tomorrow may bring.”

“Well, it’s tomorrow now, Naga. Tell me. What did it bring?”

She could not only
see
the smirk playing upon his flawless lips, she could hear it in his voice. “Nibble me like that just once more, Angel, and I shall show you.”

And of course, he did.

Making love in complete darkness is thrilling. You rely on your senses, touching and feeling and tasting. But making love to her in the first rays of dawn was beyond his imagining. Nothing was hidden from him. He could see the fire dancing in her dark eyes, watch the tiny little goose bumps pop up on her snow white skin. He would never forget the look of pleasure on her face or how her snowflakes sparkled brightly when she came.

He had always loved the smell of her curls, the feel of them brushing against his cheek. Munenori moaned as he buried his face in all those silver ringlets and kissed the back of her neck.

By all that’s holy, I love this woman
, he thought, just as the last of his strength was drained. He collapsed onto her, resting his forehead between her sharp shoulder blades, tracing the tip of his nose along the bumps of her spine. “Oh, Naga,” he whispered.

“Munenori,
you
are a delicious poison to
me
.” She felt him smile against her back.

“What do you wish to do now, my love?” He wrapped his arms around her. “I fear if I relax my grip upon you, I will find you have disappeared again.”

“I don’t plan on leaving,” she answered with a giggle. “At least, not this day.”

He tightened his embrace. “Tell me what you’re thinking, Naga. I have the worst time trying to read your mind. I believe you purposefully block our angelic connection.”

She softly chuckled. “Very well, if you must know. I was thinking… The only thing that could possibly make this day any more perfect would be to bathe with you beneath the giant waterfall in the secret valley home of my Dragons.”

His breath hitched. “Swear it.” His whisper was urgent, needy. “Swear you’re not playing with me, Milady.”

She giggled. “I swear it, Munenori. I was just thinking how wonderful it would be to wash your beautiful hair and rub soap bubbles all over your perfect body while you held me in your loving arms.” She felt his excitement growing within her, his hands sliding back down to cup her hips. “And after the sun dries us, as we lay on the lush grass, I want to brush and braid your luxurious lavender mane.”

“I would do anything to keep your hands always within my hair, Naga… anything.”

Munenori closed his eyes and enjoyed her groans of pleasure.
Yes, a most delicious poison
, he thought.

Chapter 25

Vittorio

(vit-TOR-ee-oh)

He stood with his forehead resting against the door, glistening silver hair falling down around him. His iridescent hand—white knuckled, gripping the knob.

He never dreamed how hard it would be—entering her home. The one place he knew in his heart she would never return.

The muscles in his chest contracted, painfully squeezing his lungs, cutting off his air. Regretful tears dripped sorrowfully onto the crystal cobbled doorstep.

Lifting his head back slightly, he let it fall against the ethereal arched door—once, twice, three times. The tiny jarring thuds helped to offset the debilitating pain in his heart.

Vittorio spun around, searching for her. The familiar giggle had been right behind him, he was certain of it. She wasn’t there. No one was. When the tiny infectious giggles started again, he closed his eyes and let his mind drift blissfully through the precious memory…

Her gem-stuffed fist broke through the water’s surface, followed by her smiling face.

“Ha! I’m certain I’ve won this time, Brother,” she boasted. “Just look at how many I got.”

Jenevier proudly emptied her over-filled fist of pearls and gems onto the smooth stone slab. His monstrous bounty was already there, waiting. Her mouth fell open at the sight. Wide-eyed, she gaped at him, shaking her head in disbelief. Vittorio held up his enormous hand to serve as explanation.

Her smile beamed. “Alrighty then, best two outta three?”

She didn’t wait for his answer before she dove, head first, back into the pristine waters. The second and third rounds of their treasure hunting adventure yielded the same results, but her obviously inadequate mounds of treasure never dampened her spirits.

“Three outta five, then.” Back in the water she went. “Very well, looks like you want to go four outta six. I’m game. Let’s give her a go, shall we?”

“Aye, Lass, ye cannae win,” he said with a chuckle. “Look at the size of my hand.”

“I know that, Brother.” She winked at him. “I keep challenging you because you look so good with water running down your sculpted body like that. It makes me sweat, makes my mouth water.”

Those amazing giggles bounced off the surrounding mountains encompassing Princess Falls, as he chased her about in earnest.

“There’s something to be said for being small and quick.” She laughed playfully. “Ye cannae catch me, Brother.”

Vittorio got tickled at her strange sounding attempt to mimic him. “I like the way ye roll yer R’s, Princess. But yer still dragging yer words oot too long. Ye cannae just say it faster. Ye gotta knock some of the letters off, too.”

He snatched her out of the air when she tried to dart past him, yet again, and wrapped her up in his arms.

“I got ye now, Lass.”

“I let you.” She continued to giggle.

“Aye, did ye now? Well, if all ye wanted was tae be pressed up against me like this, all ye had tae do was smile. I cannae deny yer smile, Milady. I live just tae see it.”

She stretched her smile out as big as it would go, and pressed her nose to his. “Like this?” She spoke lispfully through her clenched teeth.

“Aye, any way I can get it, Lass.”

He tickled her ribs then and the wild giggling started anew.

“St-stop it. I ca-can’t breathe.” She pushed the words out between laughs.

She sighed loudly, smiling, enjoying their happiness. Vittorio floated her down to the ground, cradled in his arms. They lay on the lush grass, cheek to cheek, with their feet pointing in opposite directions.

“Oh, look, look.” She pointed excitedly. “That one is
definitely
a turtle. See the head, and the outline of the shell? Right there. Beside the one that looks like stampeding horses. See it?”

“Aye, Lass. I see it.”

But, he wasn’t looking where she was pointing at all. Vittorio was staring at the side of her elated face, treasuring the child-like wonder she exuded. This was his favorite game of hers—watching the clouds roll by. The mighty Vanir would be content if they stayed like this, never moving from this very spot, for all eternity.

“Aye… Dammit all. Why’d I have tae love her so hard?” he grumbled as he pushed the door open and entered her forever deserted home within the heart of their ethereal city.

He sat cross-legged in front of her treasure chest and let his tears freely flow, unhindered, as he went through all her precious things.

Hoping against hope, his heart had told him
Vanahirdem
when Jenevier left Val Hal, mumbling…
I’m going home now
. He should have known better. This place hadn’t been her home for years. He knew now she spoke of Jinn. His mind had known the truth of it when she said the words, but his giant heart had just kept right on dreaming.

He lightly ran his fingers across the meticulously carved impression of a girl riding a horse, long curls blowing in the wind, giant mountains in the distance. The mare’s eyes were wide, her mouth, open. It was an enchanting scene of desperate escape, lovingly cut out of the red-tinged wood. A priceless painting, minus the canvas.

Vittorio had gone to Mr. Trinken himself, asked him to create something from her homeland in which she could store her treasured few possessions. He knew it would be expertly made, but the old man wove his magic in a way the majestic Guardian had never imagined. Love was obvious in every indention, in each carved mark. Mr. Trinken had cherished her. Nothing could prove that truer than the craft he had wielded in her name. She had burst into tears as soon as he walked through the door carrying it. Smiling like she’d just seen heaven. And he fell in love with her, all over again.

Taking a deep breath, he finally opened it. The chest contained her journal, a pair of worn-out old lace-up soft-soled boots, and a hand-me-down tapestry bag full of little bottles wrapped lovingly in hand-knitted scarves.

He opened one and inhaled, breathing in the heavenly aroma that was part of Jenevier. Replacing the cork, he read the hand written label… Potion #4.

“Aye, looks like she has plenty enough. I’ll be keeping this one for myself.”

He carefully packed the journal and boots in the tapestry bag and reached back in the chest, pulling out a tiny brown skirt and matching top. At least, he thought it was a skirt. It wasn’t much bigger than a ladies’ kerchief.

“Aye now, what I wouldnae give tae see her in this.” He chuckled softly. “How in the world did I miss that wee show?”

Vittorio’s breath hitched when he saw the red embroidered box they had gotten on her first mission. His hands were trembling when he slowly opened the lid, the contents of which remained blurry until he blinked away the tears.

His most precious memory flooded back to him. The tiny little woman, standing bravely in that colorful shop, proudly speaking an unknown language as he whispered it in her ear. His heart ached when he remembered just how much trust she always had in him, from their very first moments together.

“Aye, there’s nae another heart like hers in all creation,” he whispered.

He gently laid the red box on her bed, brushing his fingertips across it fondly. Then, he opened her closet. Varick had bought her many beautiful dresses. Vittorio left them on the hangers, carefully draping them over his arm.

Packing up her various sundries, soaps, lotions, and oils, he took one last look around. Nothing remained of the woman he loved.

Heading for the door, he suddenly remembered to check the cupboard. “Aye now, it wulnae do tae leave this here.” He snatched the jar of rose tea and the dainty teapot he had acquired in a place called Maidenhead, west of London on layer eight.

He recalled how she had laughed at the name. “Leave it to you, Brother, to be scamping about in a town called
Maidenhead
. Is it named thusly for their many fair, many chaste young maidens? Hmm?” She bumped his shoulder with hers. “Did you request that summons for any particular reason? Do tell.”

“Aye, Lass. Are ye jealous?”

“Madly,” she said teasingly.

She had laughed then, but he saw the flicker of pain pass through her lovely eyes. She quickly turned her head before Varick could see it as well.

“Fear nae, mine Angel,” he’d whispered against her ear as he pulled her onto his lap. “Yer the only woman I see, Lass. Yer my wee rabbit. There’s nae another in the whole of this universe.”

He remembered Varick’s internal growls. But mostly, he remembered how her smile had reached her magical eyes, making them sparkle as brightly as her wings.

“Then tell me the truth of it, Brother,” she said.

“Aye, Lass. I was just getting around tae it.” He lightly tapped the tip of her nose. “A wee bit of magic popped up in Grenfell Park. A wee troll, mind ye. Tiny little thing. I cannae say how he got there, but I stuck him in my pocket an’ delivered him safely tae Lyra. When I passed by that shop window an’ saw the delicate rose painted on the side, here.” He pointed at the teapot. “I thought of ye an’ got the cups tae match.” He tightened his embrace, pulling her against his chest as he whispered, “At first, I only got two. But I know how
the Prince
over there, always manages tae butt in on our tea time. So, I got a cup for him, too.”

He winked at her conspiratorially, and those heartwarming giggles burst out, wild as ever, causing Varick to roll his eyes at them, yet again.

“Aye, sweet heaven save me. I love that woman,” he whispered as he left her abandoned ethereal home.

*****

Vittorio entered her palace on Jinn via the balcony to her room.

A young man was straightening out the golden coverlet adorning her enormous bed. His arms laden with the old bedding, he turned to leave and then saw the Guardian standing there.

“Hel-hello,” Yui stammered. “May I help you?”

“Aye, Lad, ye may. Is this nae Princess Jenevier’s room? It holds her mesmerizin’ scent, it does.”

“Yes. This is
Empress Naga’s
chambers. Who shall I say is calling?”

“Aye, well… my name is Vittorio. An’ I brought the
Empress
her things.” He sat down the tapestry bag and slid his finger through the hooks of the clothes hangers. “An’ if ye wulnae mind telling me where she keeps her frilly things.”

The young man motioned with his head to a door on Vittorio’s left.

“Aye, that’ll do.” He hung up the dresses and turned back to the silent young man with his arms full of sheets. “So then…” He looked the exquisite Shinobi up and down. “Leave it tae mine Angel tae scour the land for the prettiest lad in this realm.” He chuckled. “An’ make him her own personal chambermaid.”

“I am most certainly not her chambermaid.” He glared at the giant Guardian. “My name is Yui. I am a Shinobi ninja of the Iga clan, and Hand to the Empress of Jinn.”

One corner of Vittorio’s mouth turned up in a wry smile. “Aye now, is that so? I dinnae know changing her sheets was part of the job of Hand. Just how close are the two of ye, Lad?”

Yui’s face turned crimson. “It’s not like that. I was only trying to help Milady. Mika isn’t here to attend her. I only wish for her comfort, in all things.”

“Aye, settle down now.” Vittorio couldn’t help a small chuckle. “I was only teasing ye a wee bit. I dinnae mean tae ruffle yer feathers.”

Yui smiled kindly. “Milady isn’t here at the moment. Yet I am certain it would break her heart if she knew her truest friend came and left in her absence. Please, make yourself at home while I take this down to the wash.”

And with that, the elegant young man left Vittorio alone in her room.

He placed her toiletries in her bath, her precious little potion bottles on her dressing table, and her journal upon her nightstand. He left the old boots in the tapestry bag and tucked them in the bottom of her closet. Then he set the embroidered red box near her many decorative pillows at the head of her bed, where he was certain she wouldn’t miss it.

I’ll bring her chest as well
, he thought.
She’ll surely need something tae remind her of Ashgard. Poor thing. It’s a thousand wonders the lass is yet sane.

When Yui returned, he carried a laden silver tray. The two men sat down to a proper tea and conversation.

“Did she tell ye I was her truest friend, Lad?”

“Many times.” He smiled fondly at the recollection. “Some of the stories she shared about your many adventures had us laughing until the dawn.”

Vittorio gazed out at the beautiful rolling fields and breathed in the sweet lavender. “I can see why she loves it here. Looks like this realm was made special… just for her.”

“If there is no summons awaiting you, could I entreat you to stay until nightfall?” Yui asked. “There’s something I think you should see.”

Vittorio stared at the young man as he spoke. He’d never seen one quite like him before—raven hair that brushed the ground when he walked, bright purple eyes that drew you into them… mesmerized, like magic. Vittorio determined the fair ninja’s age to be early twenties while he marveled at his flawless ivory skin and almost feminine features.