Nevermore (The Never Sky #2)

Chapter 14

14

S tanding before the round old king, I forced steel into my veins and lifted my chin, remembering who I was. Who I’d taught myself to be. Not just the role I’d assumed for Thorne, but the woman I’d become. Long before I’d stepped into this world.

“Might I select you to be tonight’s Paramour, beauty?” The old king’s voice was kind and soft. He waited patiently for an answer, though I was confident he’d never been denied in his life. Thorne might as well have been a mile away, for as useful as he could be in this moment. What was a Paramour? What did I have to agree to? I couldn’t swallow the panic, nor could I force my hand into his. I simply stood before him, frozen like a damn fool.

“You can say no,” the king whispered, leaning in. “Though I don’t believe Serene will be pleased if you do.”

So it wasn’t the king I needed to worry about offending. But my grave had already been dug, and I was one foot in. Who would ever forget someone that’d denied the king and a goddess in one night? I didn’t want to be remembered. As the gravity of the situation melted over me, I realized there was no chance of being forgotten now.

I curtsied, dipping as low to the floor as possible until the old man chuckled and whispered, “Rise, my dear.”

Upon sliding my fingers over the king’s gloves, I glanced back at Thorne. He wasn’t watching me though. He was in a staring match with a grinning goddess perched across the room. Apparently we were both fools.

The king led me beyond the jealous glares of the onlookers and straight up the dais steps to the throne the Goddess of Lust sat upon. My thighs throbbed, and my skin prickled at her nearness. My body softened for her, eager for her touch. I refused to look at the stunning woman, keeping my eyes glued to her long, bare legs that shimmered like gold. I wondered what they might taste like. I wondered what kind of sound she would make, should I throw caution to the wind and fall to my knees before this hateful crowd. My heart pounded in my throat. My body swelled with desire. Only the firm grip of the old king kept me grounded. He patted my hand, never letting go, and for that small mercy, I was grateful.

“Your eyes, child,” Serene said, placing a searing finger below my chin and lifting my gaze until I met hers.

I couldn’t help the whimper that escaped, nor the pulse between my legs at her touch.

“They are so unique, Your Grace, are they not?”

“Quite… quite so.” The king reached into his chest pocket and pulled out a handkerchief, wiping the sweat from his brow. “I believe we’ve selected the perfect Paramour.”

“Indeed,” the goddess said, flashing another look at Thorne. The draw of her sultry voice turned me to a puddle as I stood silent, remembering only to breathe, though I was now burning with need.

“Do you speak, girl?” Serene asked. “Or do you need extra motivation?”

“I speak.” Though I wasn’t sure if I would ever blink again.

“Lovely, little thing. I saw you with Thorne Noctus. You’re a dancer?”

“In another life, perhaps.” I pulled my chin from her touch and the way her eyes narrowed, the way she drew back, told me all I needed to know about the woman. She coveted absolute control, and should I do anything else against her will, that action would come at a price.

“What an interesting concept,” she purred, pushing her raven hair over her shoulder. “Maybe someday you’ll visit again and tell me all about your past lives. Perhaps you’ll dance.”

“If you wish it,” I breathed, though I absolutely hated the fact that I’d inadvertently accepted her invitation. Looking into that stunning face, I wondered if falling beneath the thumb of such a being was exactly what I should have done. Where I might’ve found happiness. Only my baser instincts warned me this was simply her power and likely a direct path to misery.

“Take my hand, Paramour. Let us open the ceremony.” The goddess lifted her palm. The hesitation was infinitesimal, but I knew she felt it as much as I did. Still, I wanted nothing more than to touch the serpent. To let her poison me. Because even though I hated the way my body responded to her, I was trembling and filled with a primal need to give her every ounce of ecstasy I could. But the moment my fingers connected with hers, indescribable, body-convulsing pain seared every nerve, devoured every inch of skin, shredded every piece of my soul until I nearly fell.

But I could not and would not be weak before the vicious crowd, nor a goddess that played her hand so easily. I would not let them see my fall. Though gasps ricocheted around the cavernous room, though some cried out in shock at my willingness to touch their goddess, I did not falter as I held the connection and slid my palm into hers.

“Very impressive,” the siren crooned, leaning in to press her lips to my cheek. “Do come see me again, pet. I know you want to taste me. I can see it in those stunning eyes, and I promise you, it will be a glorious endeavor.”

I would absolutely fucking not be returning, but in that moment, all I could do was nod and brace myself as she escorted me back down the steps and around the room, putting me on parade as the Silk she approached became noticeably weaker. She reached for several faces clearly familiar to her, kissing some, grabbing others between their legs or brushing her thumb across taut nipples and whispering into eager ears.

She delivered on whims of desire with a display of power, coaxing her amiable audience to lean into their desires, with no concern for the consequences. She was chaos in feminine form, and she was perfection. Years ago, I’d longed for that sort of devotion. I’d learned to command a room, a theater even, but here, she commanded the world. With as much effort as it took me to inhale. To blink.

The audience truly believed their masks gave them some sort of immunity to propriety, and perhaps it did. Perhaps that was the magic of Lithe. Perhaps that was the goddess’s true power. Because how could one person feel guilty for something everyone in the room was feeling?

The trill of her laugh was intoxicating as she walked further and further to the back of the room, her grip getting tighter as she stopped before Thorne. “Your bride, Thorne Noctus, is she not?”

His glare was lethal. “She is.”

Something in the way he’d claimed me felt different from the day we’d stood before the prince. He’d been a beast that day, unbothered by the prince, but now, as she stuck her hand out and waited for him to kiss it, he acquiesced so easily. Bent so amiably. I tried not to stew as those lips touched her. He was not my husband. I had no claim over the man. I wanted nothing to do with him. I’d be gone from this realm soon enough, anyway.

Serene whispered something in Thorne’s ear, but I looked away, as any wife might’ve done. I couldn’t forget the role. The reason we were here. Archer had joined his sister’s side, and though Serene was so near, both watched the king rather than the goddess. Likely to keep her attention away from them. Couldn’t say I blamed them for it either.

She continued on, avoiding the cloaked guards as we moved. Her first, then me, then the king following dutifully behind. Some didn’t tremble when she drew nearer, completely unaffected, proving that she controlled the effects and direction of her sultry power and gave them a pass the rest of us were not afforded.

“Your Paramour,” the goddess said, placing my hand in the king’s once we stepped onto the dance floor. “Enjoy your evening, Your Grace.”

With my arm tucked firmly into the king’s grip, neither of us could resist the urge to watch Serene glide all the way back up to her golden throne, hips swaying beneath the sheer fabric, holding every pair of eyes in the room until she sat and gestured for the music to begin again.

My gaze met the king’s. Warmth and kindness radiated from him. “Just a bit longer, dear.”

There was a familiarity there, a gentle comfort that reminded me of my dear friend Hollis, an old man I’d loved and mourned until my soul ached. With a soft smile, I allowed the king to guide me across the dance floor, our steps falling into a graceful rhythm.

I didn’t know gentle kings existed, but I had enough experience with men to see beyond vicious facades and masks. And though his actual mask covered his face from the top of his cheeks to his temple, the smile lines were there. The wrinkles that proved he’d spent many years in happiness. This was not a tyrant. Nor a man that ruled with an iron fist.

The onlookers watched in awe, likely captivated by the sight of a stranger dancing with the monarch. Their curious eyes burned into me, but I wouldn’t shrink beneath their scrutiny. Instead, I held my head high, radiating an inner confidence that had been slowly kindling within me. As if I was no longer the lost and bewildered outsider, but a woman who had found her footing in this strange, unfamiliar world.

“Forgive me, Paramour,” the king said, snatching my attention as he circled me in the center of the dance floor. “I know it must feel quite uncomfortable to have the attention of so many. If you’d like to keep our dance short, please say.”

“I’ve never minded an audience, Your Grace.”

“I don’t believe we’ve met before,” he whispered. “I’m quite sure I’d remember a set of eyes such as yours. Did your parents bring you to the castle as a child?”

“Actually, Your Grace, I’ve recently come from Misby.”

Though it didn’t seem possible, the king’s rosy cheeks deepened as he smiled again, full of delight. “Truly? How wonderful! I used to hunt there when I was a boy. Tell me, what was your surname?”

I could just picture the smug look on Thorne’s face if he knew how this conversation was going. Prick.

“Daemon.”

“You can’t mean Riccard? Riccard Daemon?”

“Oh no, no relation. But there are so many of us Daemons there these days, it’s hard to keep track.”

“Well, you’re the prettiest Daemon I’ve ever seen.”

“You flatter me, Your Grace. I’d heard you were a charmer, but to stand before you is to know the truth. You have a kind soul.”

It should have been a farce, a part I played to conceal the truth of who I was. But as we stepped back and forth, moving across the dance floor while the old man chuckled, his full belly laugh endearing, I knew it to be sincerely true. And something in that felt dangerous. Because how could a kind old man rule a kingdom and not be swallowed whole by power-hungry leeches?

“Can I tell you a secret?” he asked as we turned once more, the world fading away.

“I’m very good at keeping secrets.” I winked and let him spin me until my black dress billowed along the floor in waves.

As soon as he’d pulled me close again, he admitted, “I dislike these types of events.”

“Can I tell you a secret?”

“I wish you would.”

“I think most people hate these kinds of events. While there’s comfort on a stage, there’s nothing like home.”

“Well then. Isn’t it lovely to find a kindred spirit amongst the monsters?”

His choice of words shocked me. I nearly missed the next step, but the king held on tightly.

“What kind of monsters might a king know?”

His all but hidden eyes glossed over as he looked past my shoulder, seemingly lost in a memory. “There are monsters in sheep’s clothing, my darling, but there are also monsters that wear no masks. They are the most dangerous, for they have no need to hide their true nature. They revel in their chaos, and their honesty is their weapon. It’s the ones who show you exactly who they are, without a shred of pretense, that you must fear the most.”

I smiled, bowing as the music stopped. “I will take that lesson with me, Your Grace. Thank you for this honor.”

He pressed a gloved hand over his heart and bowed back. “Truly, it’s been my pleasure. Do try to visit the castle. I have so few visitors these days.”

I gripped his hands. “I would love to.”

He looked beyond me again, as if remembering the crowd, and his fingers tightened on mine. He straightened and pulled me toward him as if he’d meant to protect me. All sense of comfort was swept away in an instant. The Cimmerians had closed in, surrounding us.