A Queen This Fierce and Deadly (Kingdom of Lies)

37 LORIAN

I stared down at Conreth in the healer’s bed. Ten days was a long time for the fae to fight for their lives. Especially when that person was their king.

And yet, the only reason my brother had survived was likely because of his own personal ward and the amulet he’d worn around his neck. I’d insisted on bringing him here, to Lyrinore, where I could be sure no one would make an attempt on his life while he was vulnerable.

His skin had always been pale, but now, it seemed as if all life had been drained from him. He was so still, so silent, he appeared almost dead.

An invisible hand must have clamped around my throat. Because I was suddenly finding it difficult to breathe.

“Why, Conreth?”

He was the fae king. He had no heir. He knew exactly how important it was that he stay alive. Hence his reliance on Renit. And yet, he had saved Prisca’s life.

And nearly died himself.

“Because before I was the fae king and you were the Bloodthirsty Prince, we were brothers.” Conreth’s eyes opened, hazy with pain. “Since you’re fretting at my bedside, I assume Regner is dead?”

My throat tightened. “I’m not fretting,” I muttered. “That power would have killed Prisca.”

I half expected him to defend his actions with the fact that we’d needed her time magic to kill Regner. I braced myself for those words.

“I would never have allowed your mate to die. Not if I could stop it.”

I angled my head, raised one brow, and stared at him.

Conreth let out a choked laugh and winced, holding a hand to his chest.

“I’ll summon a healer.”

“No, Lorian, wait.” He attempted to sit up, grimaced, and relaxed once more, sweat beading on his brow. “This war has been the worst thing either of us has lived through—since our parents died,” he said. “And yet, I can’t find it in me to regret it. Some part of me is almost thankful for it. Not because of the death or despair, but because I was finally forced to see you. To see us. Watching the way you are with Galon and the role he plays in your life—the role that should have been mine— it made me realize all we have lost.”

“Conreth—”

He held up his hand. “I’m truly sorry, Lorian.”

“You’ve already apologized.”

“Not properly. I’m sorry I became so consumed with what it meant to wear the crown, and I forgot about what it meant to be your brother.”

I hadn’t wanted to do this. Hadn’t wanted to have this conversation. Hadn’t even thought I would need it. And yet… The man in that bed wasn’t a ruthless king. He was the man who’d saved Prisca’s life. The same man who’d brought me into his chambers and read to me to keep my nightmares at bay all those years ago.

“I forgive you,” I said roughly.

Ice-blue eyes studied my face, as if searching for the lie in my words. But I did forgive him. I’d forgiven him the moment he’d saved the love of my life, prepared to lose his own.

“Emara is here,” I said, and his eyes lit up. “She stepped away when I forced her to get some fresh air. She’ll be very unimpressed that you woke to the sound of my voice and not her own.”

Another choked laugh. “Go find my wife.”

Emara was too frantic to be unimpressed. She rushed past me, darting into the room, and as the door slid closed, I heard her burst into tears.

He’d gone to war without her, leaving her to run their kingdom. And then he’d almost died.

I shook my head. Emara was going to make him very, very sorry.

Now, where was my wildcat?

The castle had been kept in relatively good condition, with a full wing for healers to use their power for anyone in the city who needed it.

While the elders had ensured basic upkeep was completed, the castle was several centuries out of date, with much of the furniture and drapery needing to be replaced.

When the hybrids learned their queen was settling here, they’d swept through the castle like a storm, and groups of them were gathered at various points, frowning at cracked walls and discussing planned improvements.

I’d taken to sneaking around. Otherwise, I was surrounded, drawn into discussions about the differences between two shapes of tile, the benefits of cream curtains versus white.

Already, our lives were becoming ordinary. With normal problems. Well, as normal as our problems could be, considering we still had to form our court and oversee the settlement of thousands of hybrids to this kingdom.

But…the thought of those kinds of problems… I reveled in it.

Still, I waited until the group of hybrids turned the corner before making my way into our rooms. Daselis and Erea bustled out, nodding to me. While Prisca had offered them almost any position they could have wanted, they’d insisted on working with her right here.

And there was Prisca, standing on the balcony, staring out at our kingdom.

She glanced over her shoulder at me and smirked as I closed the door and crossed the room. “Did you decide between cobalt blue and cerulean paint?”

Wrapping my arms around her, I nuzzled her cheek. “Why is it that these women think I am the one who should be asked these questions?”

Prisca’s entire body shook. And a strange snorting sound left her throat.

“What did you do?” I nipped her ear and turned her in my arms.

“I may or may not have told everyone you truly enjoy making such important decisions.”

“You. Did. What?”

She grinned, and she was so fucking beautiful, my breath caught in my throat.

“The people who’ve stayed in this kingdom haven’t interacted much with the fae. And you’re…you. I wanted people to see that you could be patient and interested. That you’re not that scary after all.”

She peered up at me through her lashes, her fingers playing with one of the buttons on my shirt.

I suddenly saw a lot of decisions about furniture in my future.

“Fine. But you owe me.”

Her eyes heated, but dark circles lingered beneath them. Prisca was still grieving the people we’d lost. Each night before bed, she read her letter from Telean.

“I was just thinking…” she said.

I nipped her ear. “Always dangerous.”

“About the hags. What did you give them to turn on Regner?”

“The Cursed City.”

“I don’t understand.”

“The curse will be dropped now that the war is over and your people are free. If Jamic wanted, he could rebuild it. I told them I wouldn’t let a single building stand in the territory they’ve claimed.”

“And what did Jamic say?”

“He pinched the bridge of his nose and said, ‘Fine, I have plenty of other things to figure out.’ We may need to visit him sometime soon.”

Jamic was newly crowned, already working to remove the rot from Eprotha and ensure the human soldiers who had rampaged across cities—harming innocent people— never had the opportunity to do such a thing again.

“We will.”

Her mouth had turned down, and I didn’t like it.

“I’m taking my payment now,” I said.

“Is that so?”

Taking her hand, I led her into the bathroom.

“What are you—”

“You’re taking a bath, wildcat. You need to relax. These are my terms.”

“Bossy,” she muttered, but she didn’t protest as I helped her strip out of her gown. “Will you join me?”

I hardened instantly. “No.”

She frowned over her shoulder at me, and I tapped her on her lush, round ass.

“In.”

Her expression turned wicked, and I nearly bent her over the tub.

Then she paused, cupping my face. “I love you.”

“I love you too, wildcat. Now get in the tub.”

She grinned at me. My mouth watered as she climbed into the water, and I hissed out a breath when she leaned back, the water caressing her flushed skin, steam rising to bring a sheen to her cheeks.

Her grin turned into a smirk. “So scowly,” she murmured.

I turned, stalking from the bathing room. Spotting a gauzy robe lying on the bed, I delivered it to her, keeping my eyes averted as if I were a boy of sixteen winters.

Prisca’s low laugh followed me out the door.

Stepping into the hall, I found a maid who brought what I needed. Busying myself with lighting candles and warming the fragrant oil with my power, I carefully ignored the sounds of water splashing from the bathing room.

And then Prisca opened the door.

She wore the robe. It clung to her curves, displaying more than it hid, and my mouth watered as my gaze dropped to her hard nipples.

“Yesterday, when you took a nap, I missed you,” I admitted. “We were separated for an hour at most, and I found myself glancing around the room as if looking for you.”

Her mouth curved, her eyes shone gold, and I crossed the room, pressing my lips gently to her forehead.

“It seems as if we might have a problem,” she said. “Because when I woke up, I was instantly irritated that you weren’t there.”

I leaned back far enough to meet her gaze. “This is embarrassing.”

“Humiliating,” she agreed. “Let’s never tell anyone.”

“Deal.”

She gave a low laugh, and I took her mouth, swallowing her moan. She splayed her hand against my chest then curled it into my shirt, pulling me closer.

My hands had already found the tie to her robe, and it fluttered to the floor, displaying Prisca’s warm, smooth skin. I teased her bottom lip with my teeth, gently nibbling, then backed her toward the bed.

My blood was hot, pounding through my ears. But I had plans. And she wouldn’t wrest control from me yet.

She was pushing my shirt up in an attempt to strip me out of it, and I yanked it over my head, enjoying her low sound of contentment. She reached for my pants, and I spun her until she faced the bed.

“What are you doing?”

“Lie on your stomach, wildcat.”

She glanced over her shoulder at me. When I raised one eyebrow, she bent over, keeping her movements achingly slow as she crawled onto the bed.

I snarled. “Little tease.”

She let out a low, taunting laugh, and I took a moment to soak in the sight of her. A moment to memorize the curve of her ass, the sharp blades of her shoulders, the smooth line of her back.

A moment to revel in the fact that she was mine.

“Are you going to stare at me all night?” Her tone turned sulky. But she wiggled on the bed, clearly wanting to feel my hands on her.

I poured warm oil into my palm, stroking it along Prisca’s shoulders. She let out a gasp that turned into a strangled moan as I found a particularly tight spot between her left shoulder and her neck.

“Gods…”

I smiled, digging my thumb a little deeper, watching her response carefully to gauge the right pressure. I’d craved this for some time—the chance to tease out some of the tension that she carried each day. The opportunity to stroke her soft skin, to turn her limp and relaxed.

When I’d cajoled the knots from her shoulders and neck, I moved down, using long, sweeping strokes along her spine, feeling the muscles twinge and jump when I found the places that caused her pain. I frowned.

“You should have told me you were sore.”

“Mmmmfff.”

I smiled, moving to her lower back, the base of her spine, the top of her ass. She shivered, and I teased her, my hands running lightly over her delicate skin, until she shifted impatiently.

“Something you want, wildcat?”

She growled.

I moved back up to her shoulders, then focused on her arms. She let out a displeased sound, but I was far more displeased when I found the stiffness and swelling in her sword arm.

“A healer could have taken care of this,” I grumbled.

“I don’t need a healer. I have you.”

I found a few places in her arm that made her tense, and I soothed her, working out the worst of the knots. But I would be dragging her to that healer at the first opportunity.

Her left arm wasn’t as bad. By the time I caressed each of her fingers, she was shifting restlessly.

So I moved down to her thighs, using those same long, sweeping strokes. She’d gone limp once more, and she let out a sound that was almost a purr when I reached her first calf.

By the time I’d massaged her other leg, working my way down to her toes, her skin gleamed with oil, and she breathed deeply. The tiny line of tension between her brows had disappeared.

A savage pride roared through me.

She opened her eyes.

“Thank you.”

I almost laughed. “You don’t thank me for that, wildcat. I’m the one who should be thanking you.”

One side of her mouth kicked up. “In that case, you’re welcome.”

Leaning over, I gently bit her ass. She gasped, wiggled, and I slipped a hand beneath her to find her slick.

She pushed up onto her knees, and I placed one hand on her back, keeping her face pressed to the pillow.

“Stay right there.”

Dipping my hands in the oil, I cupped her breasts, caressing and squeezing and flicking her nipples until she moaned. I slipped one hand lower, and she spread her legs wide, arching her back.

“You’re ready for me, aren’t you, wildcat? You’re always ready for me.”

“Always,” she mumbled, pushing her ass back toward me as I stroked her. “Please, Lorian. I need you inside me. Now.”

I caressed her some more, keeping my touch light, ensuring she stayed balanced on the edge. I wanted to continue teasing her, but stroking every inch of her skin had made me almost insane with lust.

I didn’t bother removing my pants, simply lowered them, a growl leaving my throat as Prisca shoved her ass against my cock.

“Don’t make me wait.” Her voice was high, thready. This was usually when I enjoyed teasing her the most.

Not today.

Flipping her, I rolled her on top of me, until she was staring down at me, her hair tumbling over her shoulders, her eyes wide. But she didn’t hesitate. Her hands found my cock, and I clamped down on my self-control as she lifted, then slowly lowered herself down.

We both groaned.

Her tight, wet heat, the sight of her, skin slick and glowing in the candlelight, eyes so gold, head tipped back as she ground down onto me.

She squeezed my cock like a vise, and my hands gripped her hips. Even when she was on top, I couldn’t help but take control, lifting her until I was plunging in and out of her.

She began trembling, her pale pink nipples tight and straining. Lifting my head, I guided her close, latching my mouth around one of those nipples, my mind going blank as she squeezed me even tighter.

“Lorian…”

I thrust up into her, and she let out one of those tiny gasps that made me fucking wild.

Her gasp turned into a long, filthy moan, and I almost came.

Grinding my teeth, I angled her until I knew I was hitting that perfect spot inside her. Prisca went wild, arching her back, snapping her hips as she chased her pleasure.

That was my favorite sight.

“It will be this way for the rest of our lives,” I vowed. “You and me, like this, forever. I’ll never let you go, wildcat.”

Her eyes opened to slits, burning with passion.

“You’re mine. And I’m yours. Until the end of time.”

She nodded, breathless now. Her entire body trembled, and it took everything I had to hold back.

Sliding one hand down her body, I found her clit. She rode me like she had been born for this. My hand stroked faster, and her mouth dropped open in a soundless scream.

“Come for me, wildcat.”

She contracted tightly around me as her eyes rolled back, her entire body stiffening. I guided her hips down, up, down, and came so hard I saw stars.

Prisca slumped down, lying on my chest as both of us gasped for breath. I gently stroked her back, enjoying the feel of her limp and sated as she lay on me.

We dozed for a while, until Prisca lifted her head, blinking. When she began untangling herself from me, I tightened my hands.

“And just where do you think you’re going?”

She raised one brow. “I have things to do.”

So did I. And I very much resented everything that was preventing us from spending the next several days just like this.

Prisca sat up, swinging her legs off the bed. “I should probably get dressed.”

With that, she scooted her perfect ass off the bed. Her hips rolled as she walked toward the closet, and I was standing next to her before I realized I’d moved.

“Lorian,” she said warningly, but her nose wrinkled as she grinned.

“Fine,” I muttered. “I need to go talk to Rythos anyway.”

“I’ll see you tonight.”

This time, I gave my opinion as I strolled through the castle. Not once, but twice. And I even smiled.

Prisca was right. I could see the change—the way people relaxed when they spoke to me. Only days ago, I’d been crowned the hybrid king, and I wanted the people here to know I wasn’t just someone who would fight for them on the battlefield. I was someone they could bring their petitions and grievances to. Someone who wanted them to have long, full lives.

I might never have anticipated I’d be king of any kingdom, but this was the life we had fought so hard for.

When I finally made my way out of the castle, I swept my gaze over the grounds. They’d been kept tidy, although Demos had decided a large section of the gardens would be turned into a training arena.

Already, a sanctuary had been built. I hadn’t liked the idea, but it looked nothing like the mockery of religion Regner had created. It was merely a quiet place for any who needed it. And Regner’s High Priestess had settled here.

As much as Jamic liked Mona, he hadn’t felt that he could guarantee her safety in his kingdom just yet.

And Mona was a solitary creature who mostly wanted to wander the gardens.

Occasionally, she appeared to be staring into the distance, lost in memories. The kinds of memories that drained the life from her skin.

When that happened, Prisca or Asinia would usually take her by the hand and lead her back to her rooms. Most recently, though, it had been Rythos, of all people, who had linked his arm with hers and walked her out of the gardens.

Unsurprisingly to anyone who knew my wildcat, Zathrian was working in the castle.

I’d overseen his blood vow. Zathrian would never betray her. Because even if he one day became tempted to harm her, he now couldn’t.

Vynthar appeared from between two trees. He stared at me but didn’t speak. We were currently “feuding,” as Prisca liked to call it. The creature had decided his proper place was napping in her bed.

And I was feeling more than a little territorial.

I showed him my teeth. He snarled back. Both of us turned and went our separate ways.

I found Rythos and Marth sitting by the small pond behind the castle, Piperia leaning against Marth’s shoulder as Sybella watched from a few feet away.

Occasionally, after one of these afternoons with Piperia, Marth would disappear for a while. But most of the time, he would tuck Piperia under his arm and haul her to the stables or into one of the sitting rooms to play with her dolls.

I’d approached quietly enough that they hadn’t sensed me yet. And warmth spread through my chest as Marth threw a stone, skipping it across the water. Piperia was still too young for skipping, but she threw a pebble of her own, clapping her hands and stamping her feet as it splashed.

I sensed movement out of the corner of my eye.

And there he was.

Watching with misty eyes, a half-smile curving his mouth.

Sybella glanced around, and I wondered if some part of her knew he was there. And if she would feel the loss of him when he was truly gone.

Because this was it. I could tell from the joy on Cavis’s face as Rythos tickled Piperia, throwing a ridiculously oversized rock just to make her squeal.

I took a single step closer to Cavis, and his eyes met mine—dreamy once more. “Look after them.”

Lifting his hand in a final wave, he turned, his steps measured as he faded out of sight.

I’d imagined that as soon as the war was over, our lives would be perfect.

No one had warned me that the aftermath would be mired in grief and loss, interspersed with flashes of joy and gratitude that made me want to fall to my knees and weep.

I still woke up in the middle of the night, shaking from nightmares that were too real. So real that Demos occasionally took me outside, so I could feel the wind on my face and remember we had lived through it.

At least, some of us had.

I wasn’t the only one finding it difficult. All of us were coping in our own ways. Vicer had moved in to a small apartment near the dock, needing to spend time alone. I knew he was still processing Stillcrest’s death. Still blaming himself for the attack on the hybrid village.

Prisca rarely slept. I knew Lorian was concerned. But she smiled more than I’d ever seen, and she was already settling into her role as queen.

Demos mourned Telean deeply. For the first few days after we’d arrived, even hearing his aunt’s name had made him stiffen and walk out of whatever room he’d been sitting in.

And then there were the hybrids who had been born in Gromalia or Eprotha. This kingdom might be their heritage, but it was still new. Thankfully, those who had managed to survive Regner’s first invasion knew just how lucky they had been. And the hybrids here had welcomed all our people, ensuring they had everything they needed to start new lives.

But all of us were getting through it together. Just days ago, we’d traveled to the wreckage of our village. The place where this had all begun. Tibris, Demos, Prisca, Vicer, Lorian, and I had been joined by Lina, who finally mourned her grandparents.

And there, we had buried both Natan and Thol. I hadn’t known at the time, but Lorian had used a spark of his power to protect Thol’s body from predators and decomposition. The man known across this continent for his cruelty had given Thol dignity in death and allowed us to say goodbye to him on a clear summer’s day beneath a forest canopy.

Prisca had sat outside the abandoned, derelict husk that had once been her home. She’d found a scrap of material from a dress. A dress often worn by the woman she’d once called Mama. And there, on that broken wooden step, she’d sobbed in Lorian’s arms.

I’d once believed there was nothing heroic about war. Now, I knew it brought out the best and worst in everyone. When I thought about heroes, I thought about Natan and the precious hours he’d given us. I thought about Conreth, saving Prisca’s life. I thought about Telean, fighting in the only way that made sense to her.

I thought about our people risking everything to keep the hybrids hidden in those caves alive.

“Sin.”

Demos’s voice was soft. Gentle. I’d gone away again. When all I really wanted was to be here.

Standing in the marketplace in Celestara—the capital of Lyrinore. Surrounded by hybrids who went quietly about their day. Some of them jumped at the occasional loud noise. Others looked at the world through haunted eyes. But a group of children was running beneath a huge fountain, their shrieking laughs echoing across the square.

Demos linked his fingers with mine, and I met his eyes. “I’m sorry.”

He kissed my temple. A silent support.

Tor had left this morning, returning to his family in Gromalia. He was planning to bring his wife and children back with him and had asked Demos to meet them. It wasn’t much, but it was a start.

In the days following the battle, we’d barely spoken. His gaze had been shuttered when he looked at me, as if by using the orb, I’d broken everything we could have been.

Until one night, he’d come to me. And oh, how he’d raged.

He’d told me exactly what it had done to him to see me lying there. To know that I’d chosen to die to save everyone else. He’d told me that nothing he’d endured up to that point had hurt him as much as the sight of me gone from this world. He’d told me that some part of him had hated me for that. And that it would take time for him to forgive me, even knowing that he would have done the exact same thing in my place.

So, I’d listened. And when he’d curled up next to me, I’d tentatively put my arms around him. Until he’d wept. The next morning, we’d taken one of Daharak’s ships out to the middle of the sleeping sea, and I’d dropped the orb down into the depths of the ocean, where it could never be used again.

We all had scars. Demos’s would take time to fade too. Until then, I could wait for his forgiveness.

“I’ve got something to show you,” he rumbled.

When he looked at me like that, my chest lightened until it felt like I might fly away. Yesterday, I’d explored what felt like every inch of this city with Prisca, until our feet had ached and Prisca’s voice had grown hoarse from the many conversations she’d had with any who were brave enough to approach her. Lorian had insisted on sending Galon to trail after us—a threat to anyone who came too close.

But today was for Demos and me. A slow wander, soaking up the scents and sounds of the city.

“What is it?”

He popped me on the nose with his finger. “A surprise.”

Was he…nervous?

Several hybrids waved at Demos, and he nodded at them as he led me down cobbled streets, where I couldn’t help but stare at winged creatures—no larger than my thumb—their silver bodies glittering in the sunlight as they darted through the air.

And then Demos stopped.

I glanced around. We stood in a quiet side street, close enough to the city market to attract those who were done with their errands from the day, but away from the worst of the hustle and bustle. To my left, a bookstore called to me, and I made a note of the location. To my right, a small bakery was operating, and as a patron opened the door, the scent of freshly baked bread made my mouth water.

Nestled between the bookstore and the bakery stood an unassuming building. The paint, once vibrant, had faded to a gentle blue hue, and the wooden door bore the scratches and chips that came with age. Large windows were dulled by dust, but the sun was valiantly attempting to fill the space within.

Demos stepped forward, pulled a key from his pocket, and unlocked the door with a soft click.

“What are you doing?”

He just tugged on my hand, guiding me inside. The interior was spacious and bare, with scuffed wooden floors and high ceilings.

His expression held a strange mixture of hope and anticipation. “I thought this could be the start of something new for you. For us. A place where you could start that business you’ve always dreamed of.”

For me?

“There is no pressure tied to this, Sin. No time limit. There was some money tucked away for us—an inheritance created for Prisca and me and kept safe. I bought the building, but your name is on the deed. Use it to sell your creations. Use it just to have somewhere to sew or weave or whatever you want. Hell, set it on fire if you want to,” he snarled when I didn’t reply.

I burst into tears.

His arms instantly surrounded me. “I’m sorry. It’s too much. You don’t want it. You wanted to do this alone.”

“Stop talking,” I wailed.

He shut his mouth, but I could practically feel the misery radiating off him.

Pulling myself together, I lifted my head. “Demos… this is the most incredible thing anyone has ever done for me. I want to strangle you for spending so much money, but I also want to snatch that key before you change your mind.”

A slow grin broke out on his face, and he tucked the key in the pocket of my dress. “Yours, Asinia. No matter what. Even if someday you choose to leave me. If you decide you want someone else.”

All the air seemed to disappear from the room. I frowned at him. “Why would I ever do that?”

“I’m not going to hold you to the things you said the night before you thought you were going to die.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “That’s big of you.”

His jaw clenched. “I’m trying to be reasonable about this.”

Drilling my finger into his chest, I glowered at him. “I don’t need you to be reasonable. I love you, you idiot. Nothing has changed for me. If it’s changed for you…”

Taking my hand, he pressed a gentle kiss to my finger. Nothing had changed for him.

He wanted to help me make my dreams come true.

“So,” I said, rolling up my sleeves as I turned to survey the space around us, the door leading to what was likely a back room. “You want to explore?”