The Ring of Fire
Where will you turn, when the ghosts of the past come to call?
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This story contains adult content and dark themes. Please check the content warnings below the excerpt for specifics.
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PART ONE: The Moths and the Flame
William and Jesse Grace have searched for months to seek the help of a legendary pyromancer. But where they expect to find an old man, they find Jacqueline: a beautiful femme fatale blessed - and cursed - with eternal youth. As they adventure together across a magical Old West, they each begin to unravel the darkness of the past. As they grow closer, can the Grace brothers keep themselves from falling for her? And can she possibly choose between the two of them?
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When she was finally tired, she pulled off her gloves and knelt down by the edge of the water to wash her hands and face. Just as she cupped the water in her hands, she heard a splash. She stepped back and held out a flame in one hand so she could see. It was Jesse, swimming shirtless in the creek.
“Jesse,” she sighed in relief. “I didn’t see you there.”
He shook the water out of his hair and wiped his face with his forearm, grinning at her.
“Aren’t you freezing?” she asked.
Jesse stood up in the creek and walked up the bank to where she was standing. He was fully naked and covered himself with one hand as he approached her.
He stood before her, shivering, and pulled one of her warm hands to his wet chest. “If you come in with me, I won’t be cold no more.”
Jesse's skin was cold to touch, but warmed quickly as her hand flooded him with heat. He stopped shivering and looked down into her eyes, water dripping from his hair.
Jacqueline barely came up to the middle of his chest. There were never any men as tall as Jesse back in her homeland. She trailed her fingers across his collarbone, appreciating the way his breath caught in his chest in response to her touch. He took her hand in his and raised it to his lips, kissing her fingers gently.
"What you thinking about?" he murmured.
"Bad things," Jacqueline whispered with an impish smile. In one swift motion she wrapped her hand around the back of his neck and pulled his lips down to hers. She kissed him slowly and carefully, and his chest rumbled with a sound of appreciation.
Jesse pulled away, breathing heavily. The corner of his mouth was turned up in surprise. "You're dangerous," he growled.
"You're right," she said in a low voice. "Does it scare you?"
"No." He leaned down and kissed her again. Her lips were soft and warm, and tasted just faintly of liquor. He put his hand on her waist and pulled her a little closer, but not quite so close that they were touching. "I think I like it," he breathed.
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CW:
Birth trauma, violence, suicidal ideation & descriptions of suicide.
Wendy_Warzone · Fantaisie
