22. Harrick
TWENTY-TWO
HARRICK
“It feels good, Harrick,” she says, curving toward me. “Please. I want more.”
I can’t process how I went from worrying Rune wouldn’t wake up to this , and I decide not to try. Instead, I push away any fear or doubt until I’m focusing only on her and the way she lays beneath me. Her legs shift as she chases her relief, and I swear, I’ve never seen anything so beautiful, so fucking perfect, as her stretched across my bed.
I suck on her neck, grazing her skin with my teeth and chasing the sting with my tongue. With one hand cupped behind her head, I use the other to undo her zipper. Only once I’ve reached the end, exposing a sliver of her smooth, pale skin, do I pull back to look at her.
She blinks up at me, blue eyes darkened with desire. Though she doesn’t say a word, I can almost hear the demand on her lips.
More .
I separate her top with excruciating slowness, and she watches, biting down on her lower lip. She’s every bit as beautiful as I pictured and more, slipping out of her sleeves until she’s bared to me from the waist up. With my eyes intent on hers, I run my hand over her soft skin and the slopes of her small breasts. I circle her nipple, and her hips jolt upward, as if searching for my cock.
“Gods,” I say.
I replace my fingers with my tongue, tracing her breast, sucking her nipple and drawing out her moans. I trail down her body, until my hand disappears beneath her coverall and between her legs. She’s bare and wet, and when my thumb brushes her clit, she cries out again.
“So wet for me,” I murmur. I memorize every angle of her face, all the colors in her eyes, while my fingers touch everywhere but the spot she needs me most.
“Is that bad?” she asks. Her voice hitches, and she tries to move away.
“No, it’s good. Really fucking good,” I say, catching her hip. Once she loosens beneath me again, I roll my thumb against her clit in small circles. “Just relax, sweetheart. Not a single bad thing about you, all right? Spread your legs for me.”
I’ve never called a woman sweetheart. I don’t think I’ve ever used an endearment at all. With Rune, it rolls off my tongue, as if the word was invented with her in mind. She parts her legs, and I press a finger into her tight heat. I suck a breath between my lips, my cock so hard it’s difficult to think straight.
She’s fucking tight, barely accommodating a single finger. I move slowly at first, letting her adjust, but soon she’s rocking against me, her sweet moans filling the bedroom. My erection is painful against my stomach, and I realize I’m dangerously close to coming in my pants. I could, I realize. Watching Rune Ealde come apart on my hand could easily be my undoing.
And she’s close. Her hands fist the sheets and her eyes fall shut. I want her to look at me when she breaks apart, but I’m too afraid it’ll take her from the moment. I suck her nipple into my mouth instead, teasing her with my teeth.
“Come on, sweetheart,” I say. I press my thumb back to her clit, curling my finger inside her. “Come for me.”
When she finally does, she cries out, louder than I would have expected. It’s the prettiest sound I’ve ever heard, but it seems to startle her. Before she’s fully come down, she’s pulling away, a vibrant blush on her cheeks.
“Gods, you’re so beautiful like that,” I say. Because I can tell she’s in her head, and I desperately need her to stay here with me. She looks down at herself, top fully exposed, glistening pussy visible at the bottom of her coverall. I’ve never seen such a stunning view in my life, but she looks nervous.
If she bolts now, I don’t know how I’ll recover.
“Breathe, Rune,” I tell her. I draw imaginary circles over her hip, smiling when she does as I say. After a few moments, she relaxes against the mattress. “Are you all right?”
“Yes, sorry,” she says. Her voice is quiet, and she’s flushed from her chest to her ears. “And, um, thank you.”
I should tell her she doesn’t need to thank me. I’ll give her an orgasm any time she asks, and I’m already hoping she will…a lot. For now, I just grin at her. I’m sure I look stupidly happy, but I don’t care. I am stupidly happy, and I want her to know it.
“You’ll have to show me what to do,” she says. She’s staring at my pants, where my cock strains against the fabric. She rolls her lips into a flat line, fear straining her features. “I’ve never done anything before, Harrick. I don’t…I don’t want you to be disappointed.”
She leans toward me, but I capture her hands before she attempts anything. I guide her onto her back again, using one hand to hold her wrists above her head and the other to keep my weight off her. Then I kiss her jaw before nipping at her bottom lip. Three soft kisses, and then I suck her tongue into my mouth. She gasps in surprise, but she’s quick to arc into me.
When I eventually pull back, we’re both breathing hard, and my cock feels ready to explode. Rather than letting Rune touch me, I keep her hands away. I’m determined not to fuck this up. I can’t rush this— her .
“You could never disappoint me,” I tell her. “This was already the greatest moment of my life.”
Rune smiles, and it’s one of the few real, genuine ones she’s given me. It lights her whole face, and I’m scrambling, trying to figure out how to make it stay like this forever.
“We don’t need to rush, all right?” I tell her. “We can do that another night.”
“Oh,” she says, her smile fading. “You don’t…you don’t want me to touch you?”
I can’t stop myself from laughing. Rune frowns now, and she looks away from me. I release her hands and lean to follow her gaze.
“Of course I want you to touch me,” I say. “I want to do just about every imaginable thing with you.”
She swallows, but her eyes light with the promise.
“We just don’t need to do everything tonight,” I say. “I don’t want to push you. You’ve been through a lot, and it’s a long journey back to the Tower. You should rest.”
Her face sombers at that, and I hate myself for ruining the mood. I’m tempted to slip my hand back into her coverall to see that glazed look in her eyes again. But I don’t. She really should rest, and I can take care of my own needs later.
“Sorace…” she starts, trailing off with his name. She swallows, then sits up beside me. Even as she tries to sound unaffected, I can hear the fear lurking beneath her words. It makes me wish I could kill him all over again. “Do you think he’ll remember it was me he killed? It might cause problems if we return and he realizes I’m still alive.”
My magic pulses, and I have to clench my fists to keep it from sparking through my fingers.
“Sorace won’t be a problem,” I say. I haven’t told anyone, not even Joran, what I’ve done to my cousin. If anyone deserves to hear the truth though, it’s Rune. “He’s dead.”
“What?” she asks. Her expression is unreadable, but her eyes widen. “How?”
“I killed him,” I say. The words sound funny in my ears. I never expected to kill anyone in my lifetime. That was always Malek’s way, the Architect’s and Mother’s, never mine. And yet, I haven’t felt a morsel of regret murdering my cousin.
“Oh,” Rune says. A pause of silence hangs between us. “On purpose?”
“Yes.”
Something flashes through those blue eyes. Relief, I realize. She’s looking at me with a mixture of relief and satisfaction and appreciation. I’m melting under her gaze, tempted to admit I’d kill anyone she wanted me to.
“Good,” she says finally.
I stroke the side of her jaw. For a moment, I consider asking her why she was out in the City at all, and why Alven was with her. I don’t though, if only because I can’t bring myself to face the answer. Instead, I help her get dressed, and when she offers me a timid smile, I know I’m completely ruined.
A few stolen touches, and I’m ready to burn this kingdom at her feet.
On the long drive back to the Tower, Rune barely says a word. The majority of our group traveled home while she was still unconscious, leaving only Joran and one carriage behind. Now, the three of us return together. Rune doesn’t speak unless we’re alone, and that doesn’t happen often. It is only when Joran stops the carriage, stepping out to go to the bathroom, that she acknowledges me.
“We’re getting close,” she says, but it comes out as a question. The weather is dismal today, gray skies and heavy rain, making it impossible to see our location. I’ve made this drive enough times to know it’s almost over. Less than an hour, and we’ll be stripped of whatever privacy we’ve found.
Part of me wants to change the destination to take us somewhere no one will ever find us. Unfortunately, I doubt there’s such a place in all of Savoa. With enveloping mountains, we couldn't run for long.
“Yes,” I say after a tense pause. I glance at her mouth. A few hours ago, her lips were red from my desperate attempts to claim them. Now, she’s barely looking at me, her mouth set in a thin line.
“Tell me what you’re thinking,” I say. It comes out like a plea.
She considers my words for a long moment before scrunching her eyes, scrutinizing me.
“You lost your first battle,” she says. The unexpected topic makes my stomach drop. If she notices, she doesn’t show it. She only continues. “You shouldn’t have. You’re the better fighter.”
The compliment swirls through my chest, but it’s overshadowed by a heavy pressure. Because she’s wrong—I’m not the better fighter. No matter how sweet she is for attempting to mollify me, I know the truth.
“I have more magic,” I say carefully. “But there’s something unnatural about Malek. Something sinister. He’s going to best me every time, Rune.”
She tilts her head, face tightening like I’ve caused her physical pain. Before I have a chance to argue more, she inches toward me. She glances out the window, maybe to check for Joran, and leans over the gap between us.
“You knocked him unconscious with a single strike, Harrick.” Her words are velvet, soft, inviting. “You can do it again. Every single time.”
“It’s not that simple,” I say, shaking my head.
I shouldn’t have told her about my encounter with Malek and Alven, but I wanted her to know her friend had survived, that Malek had tried to kill him but he’d gotten away. She didn’t flinch when I explained he’d sold her out to me, and that only made me more curious of what they were doing and who they are to each other. Clearing that unpleasant thought from my mind, I continue. “I only beat Malek because I caught him off guard. If he’d expected my attack, he would have deflected it.”
Joran’s darkened silhouette passes by the window opposite Rune. She shifts back in her seat, shoulders tightening, only to lean forward when his shadow passes the door again.
“You’re wrong,” she says. Her voice vibrates as she speaks, and there’s a too-familiar tinge of fear in her eyes, like she thinks her words will anger me. Despite that, she presses on, “You’re not losing because you’re weak, Harrick. You’re losing because you’re not desperate to win.”
My mouth slackens. A sliver of ice infiltrates my veins at the accusation, this idea that I’m failing because I’m not trying . Rune has no idea what I’ve done to strengthen my abilities. She hasn’t seen the hours of training or the blackened bruises on my skin. She has no idea, and my instinct is to point that out.
But she already looks nauseated. Her face darkens with blush, her pale eyes flickering around my face. She’s embarrassed and scared, waiting for the fallout. I want to ask how she does things, says things, when she’s clearly terrified of doing them.
Instead, I only sigh, letting the disappointment curdle through my stomach.
“I do try, Rune. It may not look?—”
“I know you try,” she interrupts. Her skin flushes again, and she drops her eyes. “It’s just…you’re unstoppable when you feel you must win. When you’re not battling for the sake of hurting someone, but for the sake of saving someone else.”
Heat washes through me, boiling the ice from my blood. Though she didn’t outright say it, I heard between her words: she thinks I am unstoppable when I’m fighting for her . Maybe it should annoy me, this idea that I’m stronger for someone else than I am for myself. It doesn’t though. I feel a swell of pride, a satisfying twitch that my magic might be stronger when used for good.
“I don’t mean to overstep my place…” Rune trails off, twisting her fingers together. She finally returns her eyes to mine. “But it might help you.”
I watch her for a long moment, enjoying the openness of her expression. Even with her mask, I can see her vulnerability.
Gods, I want to kiss you.
Before I can, Joran bursts back into the carriage, falling into the nearest seat. He’s soaked, dripping rain over the leather. A pool of water collects at his feet as the door again closes and we lurch back on course.
“Really?” Tora shrieks.
My bedroom light whirs to life, casting an eerie glow over the scarlet room. I squint through the jarring colors to glare at my sister. She stands at the foot of my bed, arms crossed as she glowers right back at me.
Rune, Joran, and I arrived at the Tower less than an hour ago. I’ve just crawled into bed, letting my freshly-bathed limbs mold into the mattress. I had mentally prepared myself for facing her first thing in the morning. I should know my sister better than that by now.
“Can we do this tomorrow?” I ask, unable to keep the irritation from my voice. “You have no idea what I’ve dealt with these past few?—”
“You’re right. I don’t have any idea,” she interrupts. She drops onto my mattress, landing roughly on my shins. I grunt, shifting out of her way and she quickly claims the space, leaning toward me. “Because you left me here to deal with that fallout. The Architect is pissed. Mother has lost her damned mind. And Malek, well, I’m sure you’ve already heard what he’s done.”
I shift at Malek’s name. Joran informed me two days ago that he had survived an attack in the City, and that Sorace had been found dead. My brother couldn’t remember what happened, but the Committee suspects the two got into a deadly brawl while drunk off stolen magic. The irony is not lost on me. Joran didn’t say anything more about it, but I have a creeping suspicion he’s pieced together the truth.
“Yes, I heard,” I confirm. “It’s hard to feel sorry, given what they were doing, don’t you think?”
“Regardless,” Tora snaps, poking me in the chest. “I can’t believe you actually went without me. It was our plan to run, Harrick. Ours. But you left, and all because you lost one stupid battle?—”
“It’s not stupid,” I say. “I’m letting everyone down, Tora. So don’t act like that’s nothing. And it’s not like I was leaving permanently. If I was going to leave for good, obviously we’d go together.”
Her face sours, like she doesn’t believe me. Surprisingly though, she doesn’t push it. She sags at the end of the mattress, ducking her face into her hands. When she doesn’t move, I twist into a full sit, winding sideways until we’re shoulder to shoulder.
“I’m sorry, Tora. I was mad. I had to get out of here, and I wasn’t thinking clearly.”
“You thought to invite Viana,” she says, lips pursing.
Even though I know it’s a chance to confide in her about Rune, I don’t. I can trust Tora—I’ve never doubted that trust for a second in my life, but even saying the words out loud feels like betrayal. The fewer people who know about Rune, the safer she’ll be. So instead of being honest, I grin at my sister, nudging her shoulder with mine.
“ Exactly ,” I say. “You know she didn’t come though. We didn’t even make it out of the gates before I told her to leave.”
“Yeah, I heard about that,” Tora admits, snorting out a laugh.
“Did you also hear I broke off our betrothal?”
“You what? ” she asks, turning to face me. “What are you talking about, Harrick?”
I shrug in response. There’s nothing else to say, really. I was mostly just wondering if news had circulated yet.
“Mother will never let you,” she says, eyes wide. “You aren’t allowed to break a betrothal.”
“I’m not asking for permission,” I say. I think back to what Rune Ealde told me, about having something to fight for. This might be the first time I feel like I do.