Chapter 71
Chapter
Seventy-One
L uther took my hand and led me into a washroom unlike any I’d seen before. A set of glass doors opened to a small nook lined with a mosaic of colorful clay tiles and a water-filled ceiling that made me feel encased below the sea. The tiles lit up from behind, illuminating the chamber in a rainbow glow that gently wavered in the undulating reflection of the water’s flow.
When he opened the doors and turned a lever, hundreds of pin-sized spouts released a rainfall of steaming water, filling the room with a subtle, pleasant scent that reminded me of a crisp breeze at dawn.
“Amazing,” I breathed.
“Wait until you feel it. I accompanied Uncle Ulther here when I was younger. I offered any price they wanted to build one in the Lumnos palace.”
“And they wouldn’t take it?”
“Sophos inventions aren’t allowed outside the realm. A handful have been given as coronation gifts, but otherwise, they keep it all locked up here.”
I wrinkled my nose. “If you have something wonderful, why not share it with everyone you can?”
“I’ve found something wonderful.” He deftly unclasped my weapons belt and let it thump to the floor. “I don’t feel like sharing her, either.”
The energy in the air shifted.
His hand ventured beneath the hem of my tunic and skated up the curve of my hip, bunching the fabric at my ribs.
My pulse picked up its rhythm. “I’m still mad at you.”
“I’m sorry for worrying you.” His lip twitched. “In my defense, you worry me every time you leave a room. And half the time you’re in the room.”
My eyes ticked to the jeweled handle peeking over his shoulder. I couldn’t resist cracking a smile. “I suppose it was worth it to get back that eyesore.”
His face lit up. “I knew you missed it.”
My scoff turned muffled as he pulled my tunic over my head and tossed it to the ground. I fisted my hands in his sweater and tugged him closer.
“Does this mean you forgive me?” he asked.
I gave a soft, vague hum as I unhooked the baldric carrying his sword. I ran my hands across his chest, enjoying the way his muscles rippled beneath the fabric in response to my touch. My hands drifted lower and found their way to his skin.
I froze, an old apprehension winding me tight, as if he might push me away like he had in Umbros.
His smile waned.
I held his gaze, needing the reassurance I found there. “I might have to make you earn it.”
I started to lift his sweater, but before I could finish, he reached over his shoulder and clutched the fabric, yanking it over his head in one smooth movement. A watery kaleidoscope of hues danced across his scar-covered skin.
“Fair enough,” he said. He brushed my hair back over my shoulders, then traced the crescent-shaped scar on my collarbone. “I earned your favor once. I’ll do it again.”
He dropped abruptly to his knees and hooked his fingers into my waistband. With a single, firm tug, my pants slid over my hips and pooled at the floor. I gasped at being so suddenly exposed, at the warm air swirling between my thighs.
Luther unlaced my boots and gently guided my legs free of my clothes. His hands cuffed my ankles, then lazily ran up my calves to curl behind my thighs.
“I seem to remember being here once before,” he said. His fingers squeezed in a reminder of the day he’d searched me for weapons at the palace. His eyes dropped, scouring my bare flesh. “I must say, the view has much improved.”
My breath turned shallow as he kissed a line up my leg, each one a searing, red-hot brand.
“Do you forgive me yet?” he murmured. I squirmed, and his grip on me tightened.
“Not yet,” I hummed. His lips skated up my inner thigh, and my vision went hazy, my fingers weaving into his hair. I couldn’t decide whether to pull him closer or push him away. If his mouth went any higher...
Without warning, he stood and spun me around. I swayed against the lust that had dizzied my head. He unhooked my bandeau, and the strip of fabric fell to the ground, leaving me wearing only my golden pendant.
He reached for its clasp.
“Leave it,” I said softly.
I couldn’t see his face, but I felt his smile in the energy buzzing between us. I turned at the sound of rustling to see him kicking off his boots and reaching for his belt.
“You’re never going to win my forgiveness if you keep stealing my fun,” I scolded, swatting his hands away.
I roughly palmed the front of his pants and massaged the hard length hiding beneath the fabric, smiling to myself as his eyes went glassy.
I leaned in and set a kiss at the center of his chest where his scar was at its deepest cut. He tensed, so I let my lips linger. I kissed the scar again where it traversed his shoulder, then again on his throat, then at the corner of his lips.
Luther let out a ragged breath. His fingers swept along a thin white line on my hips. “A spar with Teller.” A pink spot high on my ribs. “Thrown from a horse.” An arc on my inner arm. “A violent male with a hurt ego.”
His eyes darkened at that.
“You remembered,” I said in surprise, recalling the day in the palace dungeon when I’d told him the tales of all my scars, hoping to prove to him that his were something to be proud of, not hide away.
“It’s one of my favorite memories.”
I smiled to myself and unclasped his belt, then tugged down his pants, his arousal springing free. When I kneeled to pull them down his legs, his cock twitched at my nearness. His hand curved to the nape of my neck, his grip on me flexing as he battled his darkest cravings.
Holding his stare, I mimicked him with a trail of kisses along the inside of his muscled thigh. His pupils dilated, his hand tightening on my scalp. With a groan, he slowly pulled me back up.
For a long moment, neither of us moved, both caught in the other’s stare. At long last, there was nothing standing between us. No betrothals, no secrets, no incurable poisons. No wine to sleep off, no bodies to heal. No family members sleeping inches away.
Not even clothes.
Only the ever-present specter of the looming war—but I was determined not to let that rob us of whatever happiness we could still find.
He stalked toward me, forcing me to yield until the mist hit my back. “Get in the water,” he demanded gruffly.
I frowned. “What about you?”
Desire smoldered in his gaze. “I want to watch.”
I eased beneath the water’s flow, breathing out a sigh as a thousand droplets slicked over my skin. The scalding water did wonders for the sore muscles and stiff joints that had become a constant as of late.
“By the Undying Fire,” I mumbled, rolling my neck. “Tell Doriel we’re moving in. I’m never leaving.”
“After today, I think they might let you.”
He slowly backed away and leaned against the washroom wall, watching from under hooded eyes. A mischievous fire simmered in my blood. If my Prince wanted a show, who was I to deny him?
My head dropped back as I ran my hands through my hair, moaning with pleasure at the warmth coating my scalp. The dried blood from the battle streamed down my body in rivulets of red.
Luther’s throat worked.
“Soaps.” He jerked his chin. “There.”
I bit back my smile at seeing him reduced to single syllables. I thrilled at this game we played in private—his insistence on taking control, even though we both knew he was always at my mercy.
It was our game of cat and mouse—but both of us were lions.
“Wash yourself,” he ordered.
“Yes, sir,” I said, my tone taunting. I tipped a bottle into my hands, then let my palms glide along my body, lathering the sweet-smelling liquid over my skin. I started at my shoulders, then dropped my hands to caress my breasts.
A deep sound rumbled from his throat.
My eyes fell closed, and I gave myself over to the moment—the cleansing rainfall, the fragrant soaps, the exhilaration of knowing Luther was watching my every move. I skimmed over every curve, glad for the chance to pamper my body after the hell I’d put it through.
For a long time after discovering I was Descended, I’d felt like a stranger inhabiting someone else’s skin. It had felt as if, overnight, my flesh was stronger, my bones harder, my blood magic-infused, yet it hadn’t felt like mine . I’d wanted to shed it all, to let the Descended slough off and reveal the breakable, unremarkable mortal I was certain lay underneath.
That began to change at the Challenging. I’d had to accept myself, as a Queen and a Descended, to take control of my magic. Ever since, the more I learned about who I was and what I could do, the more I felt at home in my own skin. My body felt less like a costume and more like a weapon—one I could wield to accomplish whatever I wanted.
And right now, its targets were set on Luther Corbois.
My palm swept over my ribs and down the slope of my hips. His quiet grunt drew my eyes back to him. He’d taken his cock in his hand, pumping in long, slow strokes.
I bent my head out of the water. “I can do that for you if you come a little closer.”
His muscles twitched at his forced restraint. “Do it to yourself. Touch yourself the way you want me to touch you.”
I leaned back against the tile. My hand grazed below my navel and slipped between my thighs. My eyes stayed on his hand, watching the way he worked himself as he drank me in. I moved my fingers in time with his movements, languid at first—indulgent, relaxed, savoring the thrill of each other’s attention.
Then faster. More demanding.
Each quiet grunt from him drew a breathy, greedy moan from me. His forceful pumps had me aching to have something more between my legs.
I could barely feel the water over the heat building low in my belly. His muscles tightened, my back arched, both of us barreling toward release.
“Luther,” I gasped, my voice drowning in a cascade of water and ecstasy.
“Stop,” he barked. “Turn around.”
I was teetering on the edge, almost too far gone to obey, but the way his eyes shadowed had my fingers falling still.
“ Turn around ,” he growled again.
I gave him my back and faced the wall. His magic pressed in all around me, warning me he was near. I heard the squeak of the lever, and the water stopped.
“Put your hands on the tile.”
I obeyed.
“Higher. Above your head.”
A rough palm splayed low on my back.
“Such a good girl.”
Finally, his body curved into mine like two pieces carved for a perfect fit. My tension flooded away, along with a soft, relieved breath.
His touch was a blade of the best kind, a sword that felled the nagging beast on my heart. The smallest brush of his finger could slice through my fears and set me at ease.
And there was a hell of a lot more of him touching me now than a finger .
I pushed against him and rolled my hips over the hardness pressing against my ass. He hissed and gripped my waist, fingers digging into my flesh.
I stilled. Held my breath.
My body trembled in anticipation. One thrust, and I would be his, our long, torturous wait finally at its end.
Or so I thought.
He gently pushed away.
I started to turn, and his palm pressed between my shoulders to hold me in place against the wall.
“Luther.” My voice was husky. Pleading. “Why—”
“I waited years for you,” he began. I heard the clink of bottles and the pop of a cork pulling free. “I waited so long, I wasn’t sure I’d ever find you. In truth, I’d given up hope.”
“Lumnos told you I would come. You didn’t believe her?”
“She told me a Queen would come.”
“Am I not your Queen?”
“Oh, Diem.” His stubble tickled my skin as he kissed the scar on my shoulder. “You are so much more to me than just my Queen.”
My heart was a fluttering, restless dove. He poured another scented oil over me, then his thumbs kneaded into the base of my neck. My happiness melted into physical bliss as his fingers rolled down my back, working my sore, exhausted muscles until my body felt boneless.
A very un-Queen-like groan slipped out, earning his quiet laugh.
He continued his massage along my outstretched arms. Those broad, powerful hands—strong enough to kill with or without their magic—were unexpectedly tender.
“What I was really waiting for was the woman I loved. I waited, and I waited. Then I found her, and she made me wait even more.” He set a kiss on my spine. “I would have waited a lifetime, if that’s what it took.”
Conflicting emotions tugged at my heart. Hidden admissions lay in his words—a confirmation of Taran’s long-ago warning that Luther would wait out Henri’s mortal life, holding on to a hope that someday, in our long Descended lives, he might get his chance.
My hands fell as I started to turn again. He grabbed my wrists and pushed them against the tile. “Behave, or you won’t get your reward.”
My forehead sank into the wall with a whimper. “You might be good at waiting, Luther Corbois, but I am not.”
“Really?” he said dryly. “I hadn’t noticed.”
Again I tried to press my body into his, and again he moved away, kneeling at my legs. His fingers dug deep into my tired muscles, and I slumped against the tile, enjoying it too much to put up a fight.
“What is my reward?” I asked.
“You’ll see.”
I glanced down to scowl at him, and his expression stopped me still.
He looked so entirely happy . A happiness untouched by war and loss, unfettered by obligation or restraint. The cold, hardened mask of the Prince wasn’t just lowered—it was as if it never existed at all. As if he hadn’t spent a lifetime disguising his emotions so they couldn’t be used against him. He looked like a man without a care in the world.
“You look free ,” I murmured.
He smiled, easy and radiant. “I am. You freed me.”
I couldn’t bear the distance another second. I sank to my knees and pushed my hands into his hair, tugging him into an urgent kiss. This time, he didn’t fight me. His hands clutched at my back and pulled me close.
“I love you,” I gasped against his lips, my eyes burning. “And I would wait a lifetime for you, too.”
His eyes shone like a full winter moon. “Good. Because you have to wait a little bit longer.” He reached up and flipped the lever, and a rainstorm of surging water cut off any more conversation.
He continued to kiss me as he pulled me to my feet, then to my deep dismay, he broke away and reached for another bottle. I stilled, panting and confused, as he combed his fingers into my hair and worked it into a lather.
Then, slowly, I began to understand.
He hadn’t been able to help me in battle, and in his memories, I had felt how much that gnawed at him. But he could help me like this—making sure my soul was calm and my body was ready for whatever the Kindred threw at us next.
My chest ached at the earnest sweetness with which he took care of me. I happily returned the favor, washing his hair once he’d cleaned mine and dragging my nails over his scalp until his eyes closed with a sigh of pleasure.
We lathered each other in soap and scrubbed away the final stains on our bodies as the love vibrating between us did the same for the stains on our souls.
It was an unexpected gift to explore his chiseled, magnificent body without the haze of lust consuming my thoughts. I traced the splintered lines of his scar, over and over, until he no longer flinched or pulled away. Then I laid my cheek against the strange, smooth place on his chest that the damage had inexplicably avoided, listening to his heartbeat as he held me in the rain.
He let himself explore me, too. His hands roamed with purpose, as if to touch me was to know me and he wanted to leave no detail left unlearned. He lingered on my scars—circling them with his hands, then again with his mouth.
Though his touch stayed innocent enough, flashes of caged desire slipped through the bars. A nip of my ear, a knead of my breast, a slow caress between my thighs. He was fighting to hold himself back, but I didn’t know why, and every time I tried to goad him on, he smiled knowingly and pulled my hands away.
When it seemed like he was right on the verge of caving, he flipped the lever and the water stopped. He plucked me off my feet and tossed me over his shoulder, ignoring my squeals of protest as he carried me out.
He paused in front of the mirror and ran his hand up the back of my thigh. “Remind me to tell your brother this place has incredible views.”
I swatted his back, which he answered with a firm smack against my bare ass. A husky gasp burst out before I could stop it.
Luther went stone still. Torturously slowly, he slid my body over his and set me on the floor. The playfulness had left his expression, his eyes now dusky with lust. “Did Her Majesty like that?”
The hot flush of blood that rushed to my cheeks gave my answer away.
“I didn’t behave in there,” I admitted. “Do I still get a reward, or are you going to punish me instead?”
Veins popped along his forearms. He turned away and grabbed our bag, tossing it to me. “Get dressed and you’ll find out.”