Chapter 1: The First Crack in Our Normal
The air in the clearing tasted of iron and burnt wood. I lay on my back, the cool forest floor seeping through my tunic, my chest heaving. Dani was a warm, sweaty weight on top of me, her long black hair a tangled curtain that brushed my cheeks. Her breath came in shallow pants against my neck.
“You okay?” I managed, my voice rough.
She nodded, her forehead resting against my collarbone. “Just… give me a second.”
A soft, silver light pulsed once, weakly, around her clenched fists where they were buried in the fabric of my shirt. It was supposed to be brighter. A lot brighter. This was our ritual, our necessary medicine after every skirmish. Our lovemaking fed her magic, the divine energy of her goddess, Diana. But tonight, the glow was faint. It sputtered and died like a guttered candle.
She raised her head, and in the dying firelight, I saw the fear in her eyes. They were their usual storm-grey, flecked with amber. No shift. No sign of the vibrant, shifting hues that signaled her power was truly replenished.
“It’s not enough,” she whispered, the words hollow.
“It was a tough fight. You expended a lot.” I tried to sound reassuring, brushing a strand of hair from her damp cheek. She was so small, so sleek against me, all lean muscle and fierce will. It was easy to forget she channeled the fury of the moon.
“It’s never been this bad, Marcus. I emptied myself against that Demonkin lieutenant. I feel… hollow.” She shivered, though the night was warm. “What if the King’s forces find us before the next moon? I’m a paladin with a dry well.”
Before I could offer another platitude, a heavy boot crunched on a nearby branch.
“You two done consecrating the ground, or do you need a holy water blessing too?”
Griff’s voice was a gravelly rumble. He emerged from the tree line, a massive silhouette against the star-flecked sky. His tusks gleamed in the low light as he smirked, hefting a waterskin. He was shirtless, his greenish skin crisscrossed with fresh scars from the afternoon’s battle.
Dani scrambled off me with a speed that was almost comical, grabbing for her discarded tunic. I sat up more slowly, feeling every aching muscle.
“We’re done,” Dani said, her voice tight with a familiar blend of embarrassment and defiance. She couldn’t help her calling, but she hated an audience.
“Looked like you could’ve used a hand. Or two.” Griff took a long swig, his eyes glinting. “A real orc’s stamina, maybe. That might get your gears turning properly, little paladin.”
It was a crude, typical Griff comment. But I saw it land. Dani froze, one arm in her tunic sleeve. She didn’t look offended. She looked… thoughtful. Her teeth worried her bottom lip. A flush crept up her neck, visible even in the dim light.
A faint, almost imperceptible shimmer of gold flickered in the grey of her eyes.
“Griff!” Kyra’s voice, light and flustered, cut through the clearing. She hurried after her husband, her elven features etched with worry. “Leave them alone. They need privacy after a… a replenishment.”
Then her large, amber eyes swept over the scene—the scattered clothing, Dani half-dressed, me still bare-chested and rumpled on the ground. A wave of crimson washed over her fair cheeks. She looked like a startled fawn. Her gaze darted to me, then away, then back to Dani, full of a frantic, innocent concern.
“Oh! I’m so sorry, I just… the perimeter is clear. I thought…” She stammered, wringing her hands. The flustered energy she gave off was palpable.
And that’s when I felt it. A jolt, like static, through the bond I shared with Dani. Not from me. From her.
Dani’s head snapped up. Her breath hitched. The gold in her eyes deepened, swirled with a sudden strand of emerald green. A genuine, steady glow began to emanate from her skin, soft at first, then brighter, casting our corner of the clearing in a gentle, moon-pale light.
It wasn’t the full, blazing silver of her empowered state. But it was more than the pathetic sputter from moments before. It was new. It was hungry.
She was looking past me, past Griff. She was looking at Kyra’s mortified, pretty face, and then at Griff’s brazen, grinning confidence. Her gaze traveled between them, a calculating, desperate look overtaking the fear.
The magic around her hummed, a low, thirsty sound I felt in my teeth.
“Dani?” I asked quietly.
She finally looked at me. Her eyes were now a turbulent, beautiful mix of gold and green and silver, shifting like a kaleidoscope. There was apology there, and love, but underneath it, a fierce, undeniable resolve.
“Marcus,” she said, her voice steady and clear, all trace of its earlier tremor gone. “We need to talk. All of us.”