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Mother had told her not to go into Portus, alone or escorted. But definitely not alone. But really, that was pretty much begging her to see why! It was dangerous Mother said. It was no place for a princess. In what kind of place was it alright for a queen and her guard to visit but not a princess and hers?

Well, it was the most colorful and diverse place Faith had ever seen! Elves and angels and demons and humans galore! There were so many different kinds of people, all of them hollering and calling out to one another along the street market. Shop doors swung open and strange people disappeared through them and stranger ones stepped out into the afternoon sun!

There were robes and tunics and coats and togas, all different colors and cuts of cloth the likes of which Faith had never imagined. The variety was nearly overwhelming! She herself was dressed in as simple a blue dress as she could find. It shimmered in the light, as did her light cloak made of the same material.

She passed a group of angels bickering amongst themselves and pulled her hood close about her pale features as they turned to consider her. Unconsciously, she held her wings as close against her back as she could, afraid even her feathered limbs would be recognized. After all, she was supposed to be in the inn out of town, alone and out of sight.

Her mother was arranging passage for them to Castranymph, the capital of the Fae kingdom. It was her betrothal. Something she had mixed feelings about. She hated that she would not be able to choose her husband, hated that it was an arrangement between her father Octavius, and the Fae king Sidhe. She wanted to find someone and fall in love like the princess in the stories she had grown up with. She didn't want to marry a man she had never met.

But Brenhin was an attractive young man. And the prince of one of the wealthiest kingdoms in Mundi Vast. Faith would want for nothing. She would live in comfort. Sure, Castranymph was one of the largest slave-cities in the world, but she could live with that? Right?

Suddenly second thoughts began to seep into her mind. Slavery was not something she found acceptable. Not even a little. She rarely asked her family slaves to do anything she herself couldn't. She never gave them orders. She was always as polite and respectful to them as she would be any other person she met.

A loud shout jarred her from her thoughts. She lifted her green eyes and pulled her hood back far enough to see a large crowd gathered around a raised stage. On the stage, a well-dressed human was crying out increasingly large numbers. Behind him stood a skinny male elf, his hands bound in chains and his ankles shackled. He was slim, but fit and appeared healthy. But his eyes were empty. Any hope or joy that had once been there had faded completely.

Faith shuddered and averted her gaze. No, slavery was not something she would stand for. She would go back to the inn and when her mother returned, she would stand up and tell her that they were going home. She would declare proudly that she would marry no man who so readily condoned slavery in his kingdom! She would say in a firm voice that they were going home that instant and demand that her father call off the betrothal!

She nearly ran back the way she had come. She ducked, dodged, and more than once had to push her way through the thick crowds seeking to buy the merchant booths' wares. Every step filled her breast with a growing confidence to do what she felt was right.

As she rushed along the cobbled road out of Portus, she broke into a run. It was a half mile back to the tavern her mother had asked her to wait in. She needed to get there before her mother did! The wind rushing by her pulled her hood from her raven haired head, but she didn't care. There was barely anybody around to recognize her anyway!

The trees along the sides of the road grew thicker the farther away from the town she got. When she finally reached the small road that led away from the main road, the trees were thick and wall-like on either side. She turned at the small wooden sign that read 'Guilded Lily Inn' and skidded to a halt.

Halfway between the main road and the two-story tavern, four elves surrounded a man with demonic, or perhaps draconic, wings and a swishing red tail. They brandished swords at him menacingly, but the man stood his ground with a white-gold bladed quarterstaff in his hands.

"Don't make us ask you again, pretty boy," one of the elves demanded. "Where did you get the clothes? And that sword?"

Certainly, the sword looked unlike any metal Faith had ever seen before, but the man's clothes were striking! He wore a tunic and loose leggings and a matching cloak of red fabric that looked a great deal like liquid metal! It was truly amazing and yet something deep down inside that she couldn't explain felt that everything about this person was wrong, out of place. Unnatural even.

"From my home a very long way from here," the red demon-dragon-man said in a smooth, deep voice. "Now please. Stand aside. I just want a drink at the inn."

As reasonable as the answer was, the elves must have been feeling the same thing as she had, that this being was wrong. They all leapt forward, swinging their curved swords at him in four different directions! The red man swung his bladed quarterstaff at two of them, swatting their swords away. His tail batted the third aside, but the fourth slammed into his thigh.

The red man yelped as his leg buckled, but the sword didn't penetrate the shimmering red clothing. The man who had struck his target gave pause, as shocked as Faith that he hadn't cut the man's leg clean off! She chewed on her lip as the man stood up again and drove his foot into the stunned elf's sternum.

The elf gave a gasp and staggered away, clutching at his chest. His face grimaced with every breathe. A broken sternum, Faith guessed.

The three elves that remained pressed their attack, striking him as quickly and in as many differing places as they could. They scored hits along his red wings and tail, and even a few strikes against his arms, shoulders, and legs.

The man began to falter. He never cried out or yelped at the blows that landed against his body, but Faith could see him favoring each newly impacted part of his body. Finally, when she was sure his body had had enough, both of the man's sword blades burst into flame. He spun the sword quickly around himself, so fast that it almost looked like a spinning disc more than a quarterstaff! The sword finally stopped. The red man held it to one side while his free hand extended toward his elvish attackers. His eyes narrowed and his hand clenched into a fist.

"I am through being polite," the red man said. "Leave me be or I will relieve your shoulders the burden of your heads."

The elves glanced at one another then slowly sheathed their blades. "Fine. But you best take care to keep an eye over your shoulder, friend. One of these days, you may find yourself relieved of your own head."

As the elves turned to leave, they brushed past Faith like she wasn't even there.

After they had disappeared from view, the red man collapsed and the fires of his sword extinguished, leaving only the white-gold sword hit in his hand.

Faith rushed to his side and knelt down. "Are you alright!?"

The red man looked up at her and gave a low chuckle. "I'm fine. Just bruised. Very bruised." He poked his thigh where the first blow had landed and winced. "They couldn't cut me, but that didn't mean their swords hurt any less!"

A shout went up from the doorway of the inn and Faith looked up to see her mother's guard, the two men she had left behind to guard Faith, rushing toward them with their hands on their swords. Oh no!

Faith stood up and held out a hand. She mustered her courage and confidence and shouted "Stay your blades!" As they skidded to a halt, turning their armored heads to glance at one another curiously, she said "I am going to take this man inside and make sure he is not wounded! You will stand at the front door and make sure his assailants do not return to further harass him!"

"But your highness, Queen Eva ordered us to-..."

"You can protect me from the front door much better than you can protect me from the bar inside!" She snapped and knelt down to duck beneath one of the red man's arms. She carefully lifted him to his feet, though she suspected she helped him far less than she thought she did. "Now follow my orders before I change my mind and decide to tell Mother where you took up watch before!"

She led the stumbling red man past the dumbfounded guards and up into the inn's smoky common room. Despite the unsettling silence that fell over the patrons and staff, Faith led the strange man up the stairs to the rented rooms before anyone else could decide to brawl him.

As she led him through the door into the lavish suite she had been given while her mother arranged their journey, the man chuckled and said "I don't think they like me very much."

Faith offered a smile and helped the red man to sit on the edge of her large four-poster bed. "There is something about you that is... unnerving. You make me, and it appears everyone around you, feel like you shouldn't be here. You make me want to make you go away. There is something very wrong about you that I cannot place."

She sighed and unclasped her cloak. Slowly, she folded it and set it upon a white vanity nearby gilded with gold. She turned to face him again and set her hands at her hip. His blue eyes captured her and stilled any movements and quieted any more comments before she could make them. They seemed to draw her in and all of a sudden, she didn't want him to leave. She wanted him to stay. Or wanted to stay with him. She wasn't wholly sure which.

She was suddenly acutely aware of the expectant look he was giving her. He said something! What was it? She hadn't heard it at all! "I'm sorry, what?"

"I said my name is Valor. What is yours?" he asked patiently.

"Faith Dolice," she said with a smile. She stared unblinking into his eyes, wishing she could lose herself in them.

"And those men out front are your body guards?"

"Royal honor guard," she said, simply. "My mother is the Queen of Legiona."

"And you're the princess," he finished. "I should go. I don't want to be a bother."

"No!" she said, reaching out to his shoulders. His tunic felt like the softest silk and was as warm to the touch as polished steel left out in the sun too long. Her heart began hammering in her chest and she forced a smile onto her lips. "I-I want to make sure you aren't hurt."

"I promise you, I'm fine," he said with a small smile curling the corners of his mouth. "Really."

She shook her head and pulled her hands reluctantly from his shoulders. "You could barely walk up those stairs!" she said. Or could he? She really couldn't remember. She didn't recall the heat of his clothes, the weight of his body, none of it. She was so focused on getting him to the safety of her bed... Had she even really been touching him at all?

"I'll manage."

Again she shook her head. "What if they broke your bones? Bruises might not be your only problem after that fight!"

He smirked at her then threw his hands into the air. "Fine. I'll prove it to you, how about that?" Without waiting for her to answer, he reached up and unclasped his cloak. It fell away from the red wings folded along his back and pooled on her bed.

"What are you?" she asked, suddenly remembering his odd appendages. She tore her eyes away from his own and let them roam over the red scales of his tail and wings. Between each of the limbs of his wings was a golden webbing.

"I'm a dragon," he said simply and unbuckled his belt. He dropped it to the floor then started to pull his tunic over his head but paused with a yelp.

Angry purple stained his torso and arms. The dark marks spread outward from where he had been struck. Faith herself grimaced in sympathy. It must have been agonizing to try to suddenly stretch the bruised muscles.

She moved forward and pulled the soft, warm fabric from his toned, attractive body and set it aside. She stood, her face flushed as she stared at the chiseled contours of his form. Her tongue slowly glided across her lips and she let out a small sigh.

"Wash basin?"

She blinked and tore her eyes from his bruised body. "Hmm?"

"Do you have a wash basin?" Valor asked again.

"Oh!" She stood and stepped to a dresser nearby. She picked up a gilded pitcher and poured some water into the basin the pitcher had rested within. She set the pitcher aside and dropped a rag into the basin before she turned around and offered the thing to her guest.

Valor took it from her, his fingers brushing hers for the briefest instant. He set the basin in his lap and stared at her with a small smile on his lips.

She stared right back, her heart fluttering as her green eyes locked with his deep sapphire hues. Her legs threatened to give out any moment and she grew light headed.

"Do you mind?" he asked softly.

"Not at all," she assured him and offered a kind smile.

He continued staring, but the corners of his mouth lifted a little more. She didn't mind in the least. She wanted to stand there and stare at this attractive young man for the rest of time!

Then it clicked.

"Oh!" she said, blushing furiously. "I'm sorry! Yes, wash up. You, um..." She glanced back at the door behind her and felt her heart grow heavy in her chest. "You may sleep in this room tonight. I will await my mother in the common room and explain the situation."

"I don't want to put you out of your bedchamber," he said. "I'll wash up and leave you alone, highness."

"Please!" she said, waving her hands as if to brush away any semblance of the idea from the air between them. "I insist!" She felt her ears heating again and averted her eyes. "And please, call me Faith."

"Of course, Faith," he said with a smile. "Thank you for your kindness. It will not go forgotten."

She smiled at that, her heart leaping in her chest. He was going to remember her!

He cleared his throat and jostled her from her giddy thoughts. "Oh! Of course." She curtsied and turned to the door. She didn't want to leave! She wanted to stay and watch him undress! What was he hiding under those leggings? Her face heated and she clamped her eyes shut. That was a very un-princess-like thing to think!

She stepped out into the hall and pulled the door softly shut behind her. As the latch clicked, her heart sank. Suppose the next time she would see him, if they in fact stayed until morning, would be when the attractive young man left on whatever adventure he was on.

Her shoulders and raven wings slumped slowly and she shuffled down into the common room. By then, much of the evening crowd had gone, leaving much of the tavern empty. The guards dutifully stood watch at the front door and the bartender cleaned the evening's glasses.

Slowly, Faith slumped into a seat at the bar and huffed a mournful sigh. The gruff man behind the bar wiggled his mustache at her curiously and leaned an elbow on the damp counter.

"Anything I can get you, your highness?"

She could tell he was still bitter about her mother making him close down the upstairs inn for them. He'd argued with Eve despite her office, but had begrudgingly accepted her offered promise of gold. His hard eyes now spoke volumes of his disdain for the situation.

"Do you carry Fae wine?" she asked with another low sigh. She knew it was stronger than most vintages, but she supposed she'd better get used to it. It might help to get the dragon in her bedroom out of her mind. She was going to be dragged to Castranymph to marry Prince Brenhin.

When the bartender set the crystal glass of wine in front of her, she stared down into the swirling myriad of colors of refracted light in the liquid and let forth another sigh.

Her mother would never allow her to back out of the betrothal now, but maybe if she could just convince her and make her see how miserable it would make her. But as idealistic as she felt, she knew her mother would never acquiesce.

She took up her glass and began sipping away at the strong liquid. Almost immediately, her mind grew foggy and her head began to spin.

Then she would run away. On the road to Castranymph. Once they got off the ship to the Fae lands. They had to stop to rest at some point. Then she would slip away in the night. She wouldn't marry Prince Brenhin. She'd hide her identity and start bringing down slave auctions!

She set her empty glass aside and the bartender refilled it without being asked.

That would never work. One young woman like her couldn't single handedly bring down the slave trade. She'd be caught and killed, or worse: sold into slavery.

She shuddered, imagining for a moment that she would be sold as a pleasure slave to some rich, fat human who wanted something exotic, but not as exotic as an elf or fairy. She drowned the thought in a big gulp of strong, fruity wine and licked her lips.

Maybe she could work to outlaw slavery with her new office as queen of the Fae. It would be a hard battle, but where better to start than the city with the single largest slave trade in the world? She would put up the front of being happy. She would pretend to be the person Mundi Vast wanted her to be.

As queen, she would have much more pull and influence. It would be a great deal easier to work against the slavers from an untouchable seat of power. She could put laws into effect outlawing certain slaves. She had to start small and work her way up. No more slaves for fighting in the arenas. That seemed a good place to start. Most of them were built very much like her guest upstairs. They would be invaluable to the cause protecting freed or broken slaves.

Maybe Valor would be willing to help her in this cause! She threw her head back and gulped down the third glass of wine. She felt the world rushing up toward her and reached out quickly to catch herself with the bar. She pulled herself upright again and giggled in spite of herself. "Well," she said as she set the empty glass in front of the grumpy looking bar tender, "this is strong wine!"

"It is," he agreed. "I'm going to close the tavern for the night, your highness."

"Okay," she said and slid from the stool at the bar. After taking a moment to steady herself, she started slowly toward the stairs. "Goodnight."

She ascended the stairs one slow step at a time. She forced herself to focus on every deliberate step upward. Her stubborn determination pressed her onward, forcing her toward her bedchamber where the dragon waited, hopefully finished washing by now. She had to ask him for his help.

She stopped in front of her door and took a deep, steadying breath. Calm. Confident. Regal. The last thing she wanted was for Valor to think she was as drunk as she probably looked. She turned the handle and pushed the door open. She peaked her head in and parted her lips to call out to the man inside.

She quickly snapped her mouth closed and licked her lips. The room was dark and the dragon was asleep under the covers. She stepped into the room and gently closed the door behind her. She took another breath, this one shakier than the last, and let it out slowly.

Valor was on his side facing away from her. His wings were folded loosely along his bare back not even the least bit miscolored or with so much as a scale out of place. It was a stark contrast to the rest of his battered body.

"Valor?" she whispered.

No answer.

"Mister Dragon?" she said a little more loudly.

He was as still as a stone.

"Is he dead?" she asked aloud and stepped forward. Slowly she made her way to his bedside and stared down at him, chewing on her lower lip nervously all the while.

His sides were slowly rising and falling. He was breathing at least, thank the gods! She ran a hand through her hair and hummed thoughtfully. Was his body still so bruised as it was? She leaned over him as much as she could and gave a start.

His body was one flat, pale red tone. The bruises had vanished, leaving him as--well more--attractive as ever. The sheets covered everything from his lower chest down, but his upper torso made her weak in the knees.

"Valor, may I speak with you?" she asked again.

Still he slept.

Chewing on her lower lip, her eyes followed the outline of his body down along the regal blue sheets and back again. He was really dead to the world, wasn't he? Maybe she could risk a peek at his body and leave without him being the wiser. He would awaken to find the covers disheveled and loose and think he had simply thrown them about in his sleep.

She hooked her fingers in the top of the sheet and pulled them slowly downward little by little. More of his body was revealed with every agonizing moment. As the blue fabric glided over his hip, she paused. His trousers were not covering his hips! She glanced to and fro and spotted his clothes folded neatly atop the vanity.

She stared back at his bare hip and chewed on her lip. Her heart thundered in her chest and she stood as still as the object of her desire. Finally she threw caution to the wind and pulled the blanket away from him, leaving his body bare from the metallic red hair atop his head down to his toes.

She couldn't stop the small moan that passed her lips as she stood up and admired his nudity. Her knees threatened to give way at any moment. Shaking, she reached a hand outward and set it atop his arm. He was hot and firm. She had expected no less from a dragon. She pulled gently at his arm and he began to roll onto his back.

With a small groan, Valor shifted and pulled his wings comfortably beneath him.

Faith gasped and bolted for the door! She was going to be caught! She grabbed the handle and looked back... but he was still again, this time laying on his back. One hand laid draped over his abs while the other rested at his side. His legs were slightly parted and his tail hung lazily over the side of the bed.

Chewing at her lip again, she tip-toed back to the side of the bed and gave another small moan. Resting between his legs was a tapered phallus as long as most angels were when aroused. Beneath that was his as-impressive sack, oddly without a hair to be seen.

She turned and watched his face as her hand reached out and curled her fingers gently around the limp appendage. Her heart pounding, she started to gently squeeze and explore his length. He never showed any signs of being awake as she coaxed him to hardness.

As his tool stiffened and grew against her soft palms, she noted that there were several segments spaced closely together in the lower-middle of his length that felt like wide ridges under her fingers. When he seemed unable to get any larger, the hot tool was more impressive and ominous than she would have thought possible!

Slowly, she stood straight and stared down at the spire of dragon flesh throbbing against his belly. She'd had her fun, now it was time to leave.

Her feet wouldn't move. She stared into his calm face for several moments and quivered lightly. He was asleep. Perhaps she could play with him more. Then again... if he had slept through this, who was to say he would wake up at all?

She reached up and began to unlace her dress clumsily at first, but her fingers soon remembered how to function. She pulled the front of her gown open and expected cool air to assault her pale flesh. Instead, only comfortable warmth bathed her. He was really putting out a great deal of body heat! Or was that her?

She let the fabric fall to her feet and slowly stepped out of the crumpled dress. She slipped her shoes from her feet and carefully climbed onto the bed with the sleeping dragon.

She knelt over him and let her hands roam her own inexperienced body. Her slender digits danced over the ample swell of her breast then down to the neatly trimmed tuft above her femininity. Slowly, a finger traced around her damp folds while the other hand glided over her hips and down her smooth thigh.

She didn't know if it was the Fae wine or something about this odd dragon, but something felt right about this entire situation. She felt as though she were watching herself slowly straddle his waist and took a deep breath. As she re-entered herself, she reached down to curl her fingers around his hot spire and pointed it upward at herself.

With one last look up into the calm features of his sleeping face, she pressed the tip against her virgin folds. She rubbed his pointed tip from the top of her slit down and back. When she felt herself finally part around him, she gasped and arched her back. A small bolt of electricity lanced through her form for a fleeting moment then dissipated, leaving her with the feeling of his tip pressed just inside of her.

She gave a tiny moan and pressed herself down onto him. Her body spread around the phallus spearing into her and she arched her back as he pressed against her sensitive folds in ways her fingers never could.

Suddenly she felt him press against something deep inside of her and a small pain sparked. She chewed on her lips again. She knew it was going to happen, of course. Her mother had told her all about this in order to prepare her for her wedding night. But experiencing it was a different matter entirely.

Bracing herself, Faith lowered her hips against the dragon's arousal. Her body suddenly gave away and a large portion of his length pushed into her. Several of his ridges slipped past her outer lips, rubbing her in ways that sent more little bolts shooting through her belly. It was almost enough to completely erase the pain she felt both at her maidenhead being torn away and being stretched so fully!

She arched her back and gasped loudly. As she exhaled, she gave a deep moan and slowly eased herself lower. The dull ache throbbed only a little as Valor's wide ridges slid over the remains of her virtue and by the time she felt his tip bottom out in her belly, pressing uncomfortably against the entrance of her womb, the ache of her virginity lost was gone.

She rested the weight of her hips against his thighs and looked down at her taut tummy. The faintest outline of his length buried deep inside of her could barely be seen in the moonlight filtering through the window. She lifted a hand and traced the outline of his member while the other caressed her breast.

Her heavy breathing only increased, laced with gentle moans and small squeaks as she lifted herself up along his length then pressed down again until her hips pressed firmly against his own. The discomfort she felt as he pressed against her deepest barrier was greatly offset by the immense pleasure of his girth stretching her in ways she had never imagined.

As her pace increased and she began to rise and fall along the dragon's spire with more vigor, Valor writhed beneath her and his breathing deepened. She was too far gone in the pleasure he was giving her to care. In fact, when she pressed tightly against his lips and his hands lifted to hold her still, she felt more excited than guilty.

Slowly, she leaned forward so her breast smashed pleasantly against his firm chest and gave a gentle moan at the new position. She brushed her lips with his once, then a second time. After the third kiss, Valor's hands slid up along her bare rump and back to caress the smooth skin below and between her wings. His lips hesitantly returned her affections and he began to gently rock his hips against her.

Giddy with excitement, Faith lifted her torso away from him and started to lift her hips away from him then press back down against his rocking body. Unworried about waking him any longer, her moans grew, though she did make the effort to stifle them out of fear of the bartender or her mother finding them like this.

Beneath her, Valor groaned and gave little bestial growls deep in his chest. It felt somehow taboo to her that she was bouncing up and down on a penis that belonged to a man who at any moment might grow into a beast larger than the tavern itself. Somehow, that thought sent her over the edge. She arched her back and thrust her breast outward.

As Valor's palms captured her bouncing breast, she cried out loudly and a fire in her belly exploded outward, rushing through her entire body at once and filling her with a pleasure she would not have thought possible to achieve were it not for the dragon thrusting up into her.

No, she realized, down into her.

At some point during her climax, Valor must have rolled over with her. The fire washed over her body with every thrust. His every entry into her belly sent waves of pleasure crashing over her. She arched her back and writhed beneath him while her fists balled in the sheets beneath them!

And was he getting bigger!? She gasped and squealed as she felt him prodding insistently at the entry of her womb. She felt more full than she had after taking him in the first time! She felt stretched so wide that at any moment she was sure the pleasure would turn to pain!

It was not to be, he buried his face in her neck and growled against her body. Her entire body vibrated with his pleasant moan and she felt his length throbbing powerfully within her. Another tidal wave washed over her as she felt his length spread open her womb. Heat rushed into her belly and warmed her entire core!

She lifted her legs and locked her ankles behind him against the base of his tail, crying out in ecstatic bliss as his heat filled her belly. Above her, Valor's wings spread upward, brushing the canvas and quivering as they rode through their shared climax.

As quickly as it had started, it was done. Valor's wings settled against his back and his weight pressed down against her. Something inside of her sparked and Faith knew in her heart that she never wanted to be anywhere he wasn't. She turned her head and peppered his neck and jaw with kisses. She moaned gently as his hips rocked against her own, rubbing her sensitive insides and prolonging their waning pleasure.

The warmth in her belly remained and part of her hoped it would never go away. Her legs slowly slid down from his back and rested her heels against his firm calves. Her digits curled in his hair and gently massaged his scalp as he returned her affections, suckling and kissing the soft skin of her neck.

"Come away with me," the dragon above her whispered.

"What?" she asked, but inside her heart was screaming. She would go anywhere he asked without a second thought.

"Come away with me," he repeated. Slowly, he lifted his head away from her neck and stared down into her eyes. "I have a home far away from here. It's not a castle like you're used to, but... We would be far away from whatever it is you were afraid of."

Afraid? She wasn't afraid! Was she? Her brow furrowed and she felt herself nodding slowly. As his lips pressed against her own, she clutched desperately at him and moaned against his lips. She had been unsure whether her arranged marriage would spell the end of her own desires and ambitions. That was before she had decided to use it as a means to an end, before... well, this. How had he known?

"Where?" she asked, touching his cheek with her palm.

"It's across the sea."

Was he insane? "There is nothing across the sea."

"Yes there is," he said and tilted his head to the side. "Far to the east of here. If we fly for six days, we'll come to a large bit of land with no one around. Just animals to hunt. Fruit to forage. And my home."

"You built a home there?" she asked, disbelief ringing in her voice.

"No, not in the way you're thinking. It's a dormant volcano with a waterfall that falls into a lake with water as clear as glass with crystals of every color in the bottom. It isn't on any of the maps, but... I promise you it's there."

Slowly, she nodded. She never wanted to be apart from him again, even if it meant flying to their deaths across the ocean. "Okay," she whispered, then pushed her hips against his. "My mother isn't back yet, though. If she was, she would have caught us already."

Above her, Valor grinned and began to draw his hips away from her again. "Say no more."