Essence of the Throne (Shadows of the Crown #2)

11. Chapter Eleven

Chapter Eleven

Ariella

I choke on his fingers, desperation mingling with the sharp thrill of surrender. The taste of myself floods my senses, overwhelming and intoxicating. My instincts urge me to rebel, to claw my way back to the world of blades and blood—the world I’m familiar with—rather than suffocate in this mess of desire and inevitability. But beneath that instinct lies a hidden hunger I can’t deny—not from him, not from the warmth that seeps through my skin.

I swirl my tongue around his fingers and pull away just enough to gasp for air, eyes burning with defiance I don’t feel. He smirks. Cocky bastard. “You think you own me now? Just because you made me—”

“Made you?” he interrupts, his voice low and dangerous. “Ariella, we both know I could never make you do anything you didn’t want. But that’s the thing…you’re mine, and you fucking love that truth more than you hate it.”

His confidence cuts deeper than any wound ever inflicted on me, and it sends a shiver down my spine—something I will think about later .

Caspian presses a light kiss against my cheek before lifting my shirt off and moving to remove the rest of my clothes. I let him. I study the purposeful movements, completely stunned and fascinated.

His feet step back as calculating eyes peruse my naked flesh. He tugs his shirt up and tosses it to the side, wasting no time as he moves to grab my thighs and lift until I’m wrapped around him. He walks a path I cannot see, and for once, I do not feel the desperate need to know where I’m going. His mouth finds my breast and I gasp, arching up in offering. I chew on my lip and drop my head back, lost in every sensation the prince is wrenching from my body.

There is something so relieving about surrendering to my baser desires. Not caring about anything other than the man worshiping me and the euphoria we bring each other.

I jolt as my back is shoved against another tree, this one full of bark so rough I’m certain there is blood seeping down my heated skin. Caspian releases my breast with a pop and straightens, a wicked smile plastered across his face.

“Figured you needed some pain with your pleasure this time,” he drawls, reaching between us to undo the buttons on his pants.

“And what are you implying, exactly?”

He chuckles, pulling his cock free. “That your attitude the last few days has rivaled that of a griffin, and I need a little help to fuck it out of you.” The smooth head of his dick slides over my center, provoking a groan from me. “You are a work of art, angel.” I’ve not a moment to respond before he sheathes himself inside me with one rough thrust.

The realm fractures at the edges as he fills me, a jolt of raw energy surging through my veins. I cling to him, nails biting into his shoulder as the sensation tears a sound from my throat that teases the line between pleasure and pain—exactly as he’d promised. Each thrust ignites a wildfire within, spreading heat into every corner of my very essence. My body wants to arch against him, to match his movements with my own, yet every motion feels like an act of defiance.

“Caspian…” His name lingers on my lips, clinging to the atmosphere like the mist surrounding us, thick and intimate. I’m lost in him—lost in this strange realm where we exist away from the declarations of chaos and the political games of the king.

The prince groans in response, the sound deep and primal as he begins to move with purpose, his hips digging into mine with relentless force. The bark presses as deep as his cock—a concept I didn’t realize I’d love so much. His pace is unforgiving, and I’m certain my body is a heartbeat away from splitting in half.

And yet, I’ve never felt so alive.

“Tell me you want this,” he hisses, his breath hot against my ear, a challenge disguised as a question. I can feel the weight of his words cram into the space between us, igniting every nerve in my body and burning the space behind my eyes.

I know full well that he’s not referring to the sex. And still, I can’t find the will to deny it .

“I want this.” The confirmation escapes me before I even think to swallow it back. My own voice betrays me, honeyed and eager, as it balances on the edge of surrender. I’m at war with myself, every thrust erasing the ragged lines I’d drawn in my mind, drawn between us—the assassin who once claimed power by stabbing the same man who now reduces her to a mere vessel for pleasure.

Caspian smirks—Angel damn him—and increases his rhythm, driving deeper, impossibly harder. Each slide of his cock into my heat is a declaration. He knows just what he’s doing to me. “You're doing so well, Ari,” he murmurs, and my insides twist with both anger and desire at those words.

His hands grip my hips tighter, pulling me in at a new angle. I curse with a loud moan, disappearing to everything but the feel of how high he takes my body. The pain of the wounds on my back is nothing compared to the feeling of him sliding in and out of me.

My lips search for his and our kiss is nothing less than messy and perfect. I pull back just enough to speak. “Caspian, fuck, I’m so close, I can’t—” The broken words seem to renew the fire in him as he holds me still and continues pounding into me at that same exquisite angle and speed.

I’m going to slit his fucking throat for being so good with his fingers and cock.

But I’m not a complete monster, so only after I make him watch as life leaves the eyes of the women he decided to fuck before me. He at least deserves to witness all the fun .

His base grinds against my clit twice more before stars line my vision. I’ve no idea what I’m saying—or screaming, if the rawness in my throat is any indication—but I do not care.

Caspian bites my shoulder as his hips slow and warmth coats my walls, causing me to clench around him again. I lean my head back against the tree while my hand explores the thick strands of the prince’s hair—far too soft after having traveled for days.

We remain wrapped around each other for several minutes after, Caspian leaning me forward to caress the relaxed muscles of my back. How is it possible for someone to be so demanding and rough, yet so attentive and caring at the same time? The prince is a walking paradox.

He pulls back, the intensity still simmering in the air between us. I breathe hard, panting as the forest beyond begins to shift back to reality. The tree’s rough bark fades from my awareness once more, replaced by a warm glow that surrounds us both.

“Angel knows how I’ve craved you,” he breathes against my skin, voice hoarse and thick with satisfaction. But that satisfaction feels like sand shifting beneath my feet—fuck, I always do this. “You’re a tempest wrapped in silver hair…”

“And who gets caught in the storms, prince?” I whisper, sudden defiance sparking within me. “Men that drown.”

His smirk falters for just an instant, and I hate myself. I don’t know how to fucking do this—how to be the woman he needs, when I cannot even satiate my own. But my words hurt even me, the sour heat in my chest overwhelming. I open my mouth to apologize—something I would have died before doing for anyone else—but he shakes his head and places a brief kiss on my lips.

“Small steps, angel. You’ll stop second guessing yourself, eventually.” Another kiss before he slides out of me, and I wince as my feet touch the ground. He tenses, but I wave away the concern.

“I’m fine, I’ll just heal—” My eyes widen when they finally notice our surroundings. There are no words to describe the glowing wings that have seemed to fill the entire forest.

“By the Angel…” he breathes, reaching out to touch the remnants of light from one of the floating sets of wings. “It’s the Khyla.”

My head snaps in his direction. “You know what they are?” I pull on my clothes as the prince studies the things. Uncertain whether they pose a danger or not, I remain next to him in case my presence is needed.

“I’m not sure, I think so? I mean, I’ve heard stories, but they were just that.”

I hum. “In your stories, did these things harm people?” He chuckles, pivoting to face me.

“No, the Khyla are supposedly little creatures that originate from the Aether. It’s said their purpose is to discover the intentions of those who enter their territory, as they’re tasked with protecting something or someone.” My face scrunches, and I’m certain I’m giving Caspian a look full of disbelief. He smiles. “Listen, I’m just repeating the stories.”

“Why would they care about our intentions?” One of the moth-like things flutters past my face .

He shrugs, slipping behind me to run his hands down my arms before lacing his fingers through mine. “Think of them as scouts, of sorts. If they believe we have bad intentions here, they’re said to have the ability to influence those intentions, leading us from this area and the forest. If they are what I think, we must be very close to finding the Palmluvela. I’m not certain what else they would be protecting out here.”

Caspian lifts my hand, holding it out for one of the Khyla to land on. I’m not fearful of insects or small creatures, but there’s something so other about these. There is no awareness in my chest that screams danger—no, these things, moths , only seem curious.

The one on my finger takes flight, and I reflexively step from Caspian’s arms toward the others. The forest glows with a soft, golden light from the thousands of Khyla fluttering around. They are like tiny lanterns as their wings emanate the light and cast shadows on the surroundings. The trees themselves seem to be illuminated from within, their leaves rustling in the moths’ wake. Interesting, though, that the normally silent forest hums in time with the languid movement of the Khyla.

Another floats toward me, my palm lifting to hold it. Its weight is imperceptible as it lands and fans its glowing wings, settling into my hand. I pull my arm closer to inspect the creature—words I never thought I’d utter. Something thrilling prickles under my skin at their presence, however.

The Khyla wanders to the tip of my finger, closing the distance between its little body and my curious eyes. My expression is a mirror of Caspian’s when I showed him my umbral strand .

“Do you see it?” I murmur, entranced. The Khyla flits its wings, as if acknowledging my question, and I can’t help the small smile that blooms on my lips—an unguarded moment I immediately wish to snuff out. But I’m too focused on the translucence of the moth, appearing to be made of the glow itself. Their bodies are physical, but not. Neither here nor anywhere else. They just are.

It’s strange…I’d be convinced this was a mere dream if I didn’t know in my gut that these are as Caspian said. Though I don’t have the sense that they’re measuring our intentions. It feels more like a greeting. As they close in around Caspian and me, their fluttering begins to sound like whispers.

The prince drifts closer, his breath warm against my neck. “They seem drawn to you,” he remarks, eyes tracing the delicate contours of my face. “It’s almost as if they…” My eyes slide to his and pause for a moment. The warmth of the Khyla’s glow sinks across the expanse of his skin, contrasting the cool silver of his irises. It’s beautiful.

“As if they, what?” I study his features, unconstrained, allowing myself a moment to appreciate him while we’re safe within the Khyla.

He shakes his head. “Truthfully, I don’t know. Their glow just seems familiar.” I nod and drop my head to his chest when the moth lifts from my finger. I do not cuddle or engage in such intimate behaviors, but there’s a thickness in my soul pushing me into his arms. I go willingly, needing a few seconds of him before I force myself to pull back .

He looks at me with such adoration that it stings—probably the fucking moths making us feel far more deeply than normal. “They don’t seem to hate us. Perhaps they’ll tell the Palmluvela we’re not here to kill anyone and we’ll finally get answers.” He snorts at my words, looking as exhausted as I feel.

My mind drifts from awareness as I sink into the realization that, for the first time in my life, in this moment, I feel unequivocally safe and content.

Image of Ariella and Caspian surrounded by the Khyla.