Chapter 55
Chapter
Fifty-Five
I jerk upright, staring at Nemeth in shock. “You what? You can’t.”
Leave the tower? That’s utter rubbish. If he leaves the tower, he’ll earn the wrath of the Golden Moon Goddess, and she’s not the forgiving type. If he leaves the tower, the last two years we’ve spent here will be for nothing. If he leaves the tower…
He can’t. He just can’t. “No, Nemeth. You can’t do that. We can’t do that. Think of what will happen.”
He moves and sits next to me on the edge of the bed, his big body and wings taking up most of the space. I don’t mind it, though. There’s something about being squeezed in next to him, his wings falling over me, that feels pleasant and comfortable. “That’s just it, Candra. I have been thinking about it. I’ve been thinking about it a great deal. No one is coming after us.”
“You don’t know that,” I protest. “Let’s get the knife?—”
“And see if it offers a different answer than yesterday? Or the day before? Or the day before that? We have asked it repeatedly, Candra, and every time, the answer is the same. No one is coming. Either they will not, or they cannot. All that matters is that we will starve to death in this tower if we remain here.”
I hate that he’s right. I hate that every option we have is a bad one. We can slowly starve to death here, serving the needs of our people and our goddess, or we can selfishly abandon the tower and hope we won’t be flayed alive for doing so. “You really want us to leave?”
“No,” he says slowly. “I will leave. You will stay.”
“B-but,” I sputter. “The goddess requires both of us to stay. The rule is broken if either one of us leaves the tower. Neither of us can leave.”
“I will not let you die,” Nemeth says, his voice low and deadly, his hand possessive as it rests upon my thigh.
I don’t want to die. Not in the slightest. Not when my life feels far more meaningful now that Nemeth is in it. But I don’t know that we have any other options. To leave would incur the wrath of the goddess. She would destroy our people with fierce storms, flooding our fields and striking villages down with plague. Everyone suffers if she is not satisfied with our sacrifice. So no, I don’t particularly want to die, but I don’t see what choice we have. “My life doesn’t matter in comparison to the thousands of my people—and yours, too—that will be affected?—”
“I will not let you die ,” Nemeth repeats. “It is not going to happen.”
“Nemeth—”
“If I leave, the pact is broken. That we cannot get around. But if it is only me that emerges from the tower, you will be spared. The anger of both of our peoples will fall solely upon my shoulders. You will be innocent…and you will be saved.”
“Nemeth, no .” My horror grows as I realize what he’s referring to. I’d forgotten that in the past, when someone has left the tower early, the people would take revenge on them. The second Vestalin to serve in the tower was martyred, stabbed a hundred and twenty times when he arrived in his homeland, his corpse hanged from an ash tree. One hundred years later, Tinaria Vestalin attempted to flee the tower to see her children, and was killed by an angry mob, her head placed on a pike at the gates of Castle Lios.
If we leave the tower, there is no safe place for us in this world. We will be blamed for every injustice that falls upon the land for the next generation. We cannot do it.
I’m not going to let that happen to Nemeth. “Absolutely not.”
“You do not have a choice in this, Candra. It is decided.”
“Dragon shite,” I snap at him, pushing his hand off my leg. I get to my feet, and my head swims. Nausea rises, but I ignore it. If I get sick right now, it’ll just reinforce that he’s right and I’m so weak he needs to rescue me. Well, he’s the only thing that’s kept me here all this time. “If you walk out those doors, I’m going to be one pace behind you.”
Nemeth huffs with irritation, also getting to his feet. He looms over me, trying to look forbidding, but I know him far too well to be intimidated. “Do not be stubborn about this, Candra.”
“ Me stubborn? You’re the one that’s talking about walking out the door and becoming a martyr. I’m not going to let you sacrifice yourself to an ugly fate. If you go, you’re not going to go alone.” The more I roll the idea around in my head, the more I like it. I won’t let Nemeth leave on his own. If he wants to leave this tower, he’s going to have to take me with him.
His tone turns placating.“Candra, love. If I know you’re safe ?—”
“How safe do you think I am with the doors wide open?” I gesture at the distant stairs. “How long before someone else arrives to attack me? Better yet, how long do you think I’ll be able to take care of myself as my medicine dwindles? How long before I can’t get out of bed? What if I die waiting for you to come back?”
He flinches as if I’ve struck him. His big hands fist at his sides. “Don’t say such things.”
“What, don’t say the truth?” I put my hands on my hips, glaring up at him. “Don’t point out the obvious? Nemeth, you’ve already been doing most of the housekeeping in our tower. You cook all the meals. You take care of me when I’m sick. And this is when I’m on just a half-dose of my potion. What happens when I run lower? When I can only dose myself every three days? Every four?”
I don’t point out that I’ll probably die if it takes four days. Whatever poison is in my blood will destroy me before then.
He growls furiously at me, grabbing me by my shoulders. His hands are tight, but gentle. “ Stop .”
“Stop speaking the truth? You know I’m right, Nemeth.” I put my hands on his, feeling the need to touch him. To anchor him. “If you leave this tower, we need to go together. There’s no point in you leaving only for me to die from being left behind.” I rub his wrists. “And if there are consequences, I’d rather face them together than apart.”
Nemeth sinks to a crouch in front of me, his hands sliding to my waist. His legs fold in that strange way of theirs and then he tugs me forward, into his embrace. His head rests upon my breasts, and he holds me tight. I slide my arms around him, stroking those strange, sweeping horns of his. “I feel as if I am dooming you no matter what I choose,” he says, voice thick with emotion. “If I leave you or if I stay, I feel as if you will die either way. And if I leave with you, I am putting you in new danger.”
“Then let me choose my fate,” I say softly, fingers playing on the cluster of horns. “If we’re to be risking our lives, I’d rather do so at your side. We can spend a few days preparing to leave. We can pack bags and prepare for the next step. Then we’ll leave this place together, hand in hand.”
“I cannot ask that of you.”
My hands tighten around him. “Then let me beg you. Please don’t leave me behind, Nemeth. Please.” My voice breaks, and I’m perilously on the edge of tears. “I don’t care if we make the entire world mad at us. I just want to be at your side. Your mate, forever…just like you promised me.”
He angles his face up to gaze at me, his eyes tormented. “Don’t cry, love. Please. We’ll go together, then. If you would be with me in this?—”
“I would,” I say quickly.
“—then I would be honored.” He leans into my touch, his eyes closing. “I will not put you in danger, though.”
I don’t point out that we’re always in danger anyhow. Here, we’re in danger of starving. Outside, we’re in danger of angering the gods. “We’ll prepare to leave. Pack our things. Prepare meals. Ready our clothes. Make a heaping dose of medicine. And then we’ll leave together and face the future. Together.”
He opens his eyes and gazes up at me with such hunger on his face. Leaning into my hand, he nips at my palm, next to the bite mark I have on my hand, the mark that shows the world that I’m his. Arousal floods my body, and even though I’m not feeling my best, I want nothing more than to be under him, tied to him with his knot, claimed by my mate. “Make love to me,” I whisper. “Claim your mate.”
Nemeth groans, his teeth scraping my hand again. “ Milettahn .”
Mate . It’s the most intimate of nicknames, one given only to a mate that has claimed one’s heart. I love that Nemeth says it to me, and I decide to say it back, just to see how he reacts. “You are my milettahn , too,”
Heat flares in his eyes. A low, sexy growl rises in his throat. “I want to lick your cunt,” he tells me feverishly as he rises from the ground, his arms locked around me. I’m lifted into the air, safe in his arms. “I want you on my tongue. I want to make you come. I want you to come so hard that your cunt traps my tongue inside it because it’s squeezing so hard. and then I’m going to put my cock inside you and fill you up. And when you’re full, I’m going to keep pushing and make you take my knot. I’m going to make you take all of me, and then I’m going to fill you with my seed so full that there will never be a question, ever, of who you belong to. My scent will be painted all over you for the world to breathe in.”
I moan at his filthy words. “I want that. I want all of that.”
He sets me down on the bed, ever gentle, and then throws my skirts up. They smack me in the face even as his hands are on my legs, pulling off my bloomers and revealing my cunt. Nemeth makes a satisfied sound at the sight of me, then eases my thighs apart, pressing hungry kisses along the inside of my knee. He works his way up, making a line for my pussy, and I spread my thighs wider in invitation. It’s been days since we touched, and I’m ravenous for him. I need this connection between us. I need his tongue, his knot. I need him to remind me that we’re in this together, that no matter what happens, I’m his mate and he’s mine.
“I love you,” I pant as his teeth scrape at the apex of my thighs. “I love you so much. I’m sorry I’m forcing us to leave.”
He growls against my pussy, his tongue swiping over my folds, and I shudder with arousal. “You are forcing nothing, Candra. You do not apologize.” With practiced ease, he finds my clit and teases it, drawing little circles around the hooded nub. “You are my mate. I would do anything for you.”
“Then make me come,” I breathe. “Make me come so hard, Nemeth.”
“You want to come? You want me to make this pussy clench?” He lifts his head, gazing up at me even as his thumb strokes up and down through my wet slit. “You want my knot?”
I choke with need. I love it when he gets demanding in bed. “Yes!”
“Then get on your belly, love.”
Moaning, I do as he commands. I love it when he takes me from behind, because he grips my hips so tightly. Our bodies fit together like magic in those moments, and he’s able to push into me so deep that I feel undone. I move onto my belly, my ass in the air, my feet hanging over the edge of the bed.
A moment later, I’m gripped by two big hands, my buttocks clenched tight in his palms as he spreads my cheeks and buries his face there, licking at the entrance to my body. I cry out, rocking back against him, my hands fisting in the blankets. “Yes,” I breathe. “Yes, Nemeth.”
I love that he buries his nose into my body. I love that his tongue pushes so deep inside me. I love that he lifts my hips into the air just a bit more, as if dragging me toward his mouth so he can lap at me properly. Normally he teases me with little strokes of his tongue, edging me toward my orgasm.
Not today. He’s ravenous, his mouth devouring me as his tongue thrusts into my channel. I make a choked sound of surprise, clenching around him. He only works me harder, and I can feel the urgency in his body. It’s evident in how badly he needs me, how he feasts on my cunt as if he’s starving. How he guzzles at me as if he’s never tasted anything so incredible before. All the while, he makes noises of pleasure in his throat, letting me know that while he’s attacking my channel with his tongue, he’s thoroughly enjoying himself.
It doesn’t take me long to come. Today he’s not coaxing a release from me. He’s demanding, and I’m eager to comply. I let out a choked cry as the climax tears through me, all of my muscles tensing and leaving me weak and whimpering in its aftermath. Nemeth lowers my hips back to the bed again, his hand skimming up my back. “My beautiful mate,” he murmurs. “I’m going to keep you safe. You can trust me.”
He fits himself at the entrance to my body, and I wriggle against him. Nemeth presses into me, and I gasp at the sensation of him filling me. It never gets old. There’s always that delicious stretch that comes with fitting my body to his, followed by the tease of his knot as he pumps into me. I hold on tightly to him as he pounds into me, hard and fast.
“Yes,” I moan. “Yes, yesyesyes .”
He fucks me hard and brutal, and just when I think I’m about to come, he hooks a hand behind my knee, his other moving to the base of my neck and cradling me against him. In the next moment, he presses his knot against my core, and I squirm. It never “fits.” It’s not meant to fit. It’s meant to push its way into me, to plug me so I don’t release his seed. It’s so he can breed me.
And I absolutely love it. I cry out at the sensation of him thrusting, his knot working at my entrance. He rocks into me, his movements shallow and full of pressure, and then with one last pump he’s inside me fully, and tears come to my eyes at the sharp sensation of his knot filling me beyond what I feel I can take. “Oh…oh gods…”
“You’ve got me,” he murmurs, running his hand over my leg. “You’re taking my knot so sweetly, aren’t you? Because you’re the perfect mate, my Candra. So giving. Such a good, gripping cunt. You hold me so tight.” He groans, his hips flexing as he presses into me one last time, and then he begins to come. “My mate.”
“Yours,” I breathe, feeling tight and clenched and over-stuffed and perfect all at once.
I don’t come at the same time he does. He already made me come once, and when my belly is full of his seed and he collapses over me, he flutters his wings as if they need to stretch. Nemeth makes a satisfied sound and then rolls his hips against mine, our bodies locked. They’ll remain locked for a while, and I know he especially loves this part.
I do, too, if I’m being honest with myself. It’s an exquisite kind of torture, to be so full of him, to have his weight bearing down on me. I’m pinned under him, his in every way, and when he strokes a hand down my hip and then between us, I whimper with anticipation. His thumb moves to my clit, grazing it with just the barest of sensations. “Squeeze me again, love. Milk my cock.”
Letting out a choked sound, I clench around him as another orgasm ripples through me.
“That’s right,” he rumbles, clearly pleased at my reaction. He continues to stroke circles around my clit, leaving me breathless and gasping for mercy, my nails digging into his arms as he makes me come, over and over, with lazy, indolent touches against my clit as I clasp his cock and his knot so tightly deep inside my body. “Squeeze my knot. Milk it for its seed. Take everything I have for you.”
When I’ve come over and over again, I wrap my arms around him, pressing my cheek against his arm. “Mercy,” I wheeze. “Mercy, Nemeth.”
He finally lifts his delicious, maddening finger from my pussy and licks it clean as he nuzzles at my hair. “My sweet mate.” His tone is full of wonder and adoration. “How can you ever doubt that I would do anything to protect you?”
I just hold him tighter, exhausted and sated, my sweaty legs clasped around him. “You’re not leaving without me. Don’t even try that shadow shit.”
Nemeth chuckles. “Shadow shit? What do you mean?”
I tweak his nipple, because he knows exactly what I mean. “That moving through the shadows thing that you do. Don’t think you’re going to leave me behind by just poofing away. If you do that, I swear I won’t take a single potion until you come back.” I rub my lips against his sweaty muscles, loving the taste of him. “Promise me you won’t try to be noble and leave me behind.”
“I promise.” He strokes my hair from my flushed face. “It doesn’t work that way, anyhow.”
“Exactly how does it work?” I tilt my head back and gaze up at him. “Can you move anywhere? Any length?” I clench around him in surprise, because if that’s the case, what’s stopping him from just flitting over to Castle Lios and getting my potion? Would the goddess even notice he was gone…?
But Nemeth shakes his head. “I can only gather the shadows about me for short distances. There must be enough darkness to cover all of me, and I must be able to see where I am going…or I must know the exact layout of the room I am appearing in. If I flow through the darkness into an object, it will stop my heart instantly. One small thing out of place—one piece of furniture askew—could mean my death. Most Fellians won’t even risk it. That’s why we don’t flow through shadows for very long distances.”
His words terrify me. If a single thing is out of place and he slides into it, he dies instantly? It sounds far too dangerous to even try. “I don’t think I want you doing that at all.”
Nemeth huffs, amused. “Like I said, most Fellians won’t risk it. It’s useful in combat, perhaps, but you have to know where your opponent’s sword will be at all times. I would rather use my wings to fly than flow through shadows and simply hope for the best.”
I hold him tighter, thinking of the time he flowed through shadows with me in his arms. Was he risking his life even then? “Great. Now you know I’m going to panic every time you do that shadow thing now.”
He laughs, and I feel it all through my cunt, where we’re still joined. “It’s called ‘flowing through shadows’ and if it will make you feel better, I won’t do it.” He rocks against me, reminding me that he’s yet hard and his knot hasn’t gone down. “I’m far more interested in other ways to exert myself.”
“Pervert,” I say, breathless. But I’m relieved, because he’s my pervert, and he’s not risking his neck. I’ll happily be perverted with him.