Never More by Bell Dana Marie

Author:Bell, Dana Marie [Bell, Dana Marie]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Magic, fae
Publisher: Samhain Publishing, Ltd.
Published: 2015-05-25T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve

She was sleeping so peacefully, her hair splayed out around her, the moonlight casting shadows along her sleek back. They’d intended to make love again, but she’d slowly succumbed to the exhaustion of the bonding, leaving her unconscious in his arms.

Raven had known this might happen; so as long as she woke by morning, he wouldn’t panic. But sitting still and simply watching, while something he’d done many times in the past when working, wasn’t going to cut it tonight. He needed to do something, to capture this moment forever. His fingers had begun to twitch, and the craving to put pencil to paper finally had him slipping from the bed and rummaging around in the pack he’d had his ravens spirit into the room for him.

Hours later, Raven’s pencil made barely a sound as it raced across the paper, capturing his lover in all her glory. It would be morning soon, the light would change, and his lovely mate would once again start racing around to prepare for Robin’s wedding. But for this one glorious moment, she lay there, his muse, his model. His truebond.

He’d paint her soon, when he had her in his home, where he had his studio. He’d lay her out on his favorite chaise, her blue eyes filled with sleepy desire, her body marked by his love bites. He’d paint her in his kitchen, watching the play of emotions that crossed her face as she gazed out the window to the mountains beyond.

In sleep, her vibrancy was muted, the angel coming to the fore. He wanted to mark her essence in color, bring that vibrancy to the fore, but for this image, the black and white and gray shadings of his pencil would work perfectly.

“What are you doing?” Her voice was sleepy, her eyes barely opening.

“Shh.” He continued to draw, trying to capture the slight smile that had just crossed her face. There was that devil he’d come to know, the hint that the woman was far more than she seemed. “Go back to sleep.”

“Hmm.” She cuddled the pillow, almost ruining her pose.

“And stay still.” He added a hint of shadow just under her chin. “Please.”

“Are you drawing me?”

He grunted, not wanting to lose his momentum to questions about his art.

“Will you show me when you’re done?”

Her tone, so respectful, made him pause. He shot her a quick, affectionate smile. “Yes.”

“Good.” She sighed wearily. “Tell me something.”

“What?”

“Anything.” She yawned, but did as he asked and kept as still as possible. “What was it like finding out Robin Goodfellow was your dad?”

He reached into his pack for one of his darker, broader pencils. He needed to capture the raven that now decorated her shoulder, an echo of the one across his chest and abdomen. “It was frightening at first. He’s the boogey man, the monster who rips apart anyone who’s of the Black Court. We were warned, all of us, that he was the one who’d sold us to the Black Queen, given our mothers away like so much trash he couldn’t be bothered with.

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