34. Chapter 34
Chapter 34
C hilled air flooded the corridor, chased by the sound of clashing metal.
Exhausted as they must have been—Karro and Ven were sparring on the Ledge.
Both males were shirtless, live blades in their hands as they lunged for each other. Shallow slices crisscrossed their muscled abdomens and arms—not enough to do real harm, but enough to hurt.
They were out for blood.
She could smell it even from up here. And she wasn’t sure which was responsible for the desire that pounded through her body—the scent of Ven’s blood or seeing him in his element. Chest heaving with exertion. Body glistening with fresh sweat. Eyes focused on his opponent as he wiped a hand across his forehead, leaving a smear of red as the cuts on his knuckles sealed.
Around his neck hung the heavy silver chain, the copper crescent weighting its center.
The betrayal of her old life was still too fresh.
For too long she’d been moved around a board like a chess piece. And he’d been the only person to give her harsh, unrelenting truths—even when he knew it would frighten her. Possibly drive her away. But he’d given her the respect—the dignity—to know the world around her and make decisions for herself.
Only to betray her, too.
Not nearly the same as Bastien. Not even close . . . but he’d taken away her autonomy by not telling her from the moment he realized they were Bound.
And worse—he’d made her feel like a fool.
She cursed herself for that, too. She should have guessed. She should have known.
Ven lunged at Karro, who dodged his strike as if he’d expected it. The two males battled each other, both of them seeming to need to release some of the tension that coiled through their bodies.
A pretty good guess could tell her where Karro’s stemmed from.
And Ven . . .
She’d let him beat himself up long enough.
Her footsteps rang out across the black shelf of rock as she descended the stairway, both dark heads below snapping up to watch her.
“My turn,” she uttered, eyes firmly fixed on Ven.
Karro took one look at the expression on her face and gave a low whistle, wiping a hand across his forehead. Raising a brow, he looked over his shoulder, murmuring to Ven, “Good luck."
He passed her on the stairs as he left, but she hardly noticed him, her attention singularly and unequivocally on the male in front of her.
Ven stalked to the center of the Ledge as she took a final step onto the stone, taking up the space a dozen feet across from him. In her periphery, Asher emerged from the corridor, taking a halting step toward the curved staircase that spilled down onto the Ledge.
He must have sensed the tension ringing in the air, because his ginger-colored brows pulled together, voice laced with concern as he began down the stairs. “What’s going on here?”
Karro stopped him, putting a large hand against his chest. “It’s a much more evenly matched fight than you think.”
She and Ven circled each other in a slow dance, her eyes trained on him—something about this moment taking her back to that ballroom in the Allokin's crystal palace. Even then, there was something between them that made Ven feel . . . inescapable.
The cold wind pulled strands of his dark hair loose from where it was tied at the nape of his neck, whipping it across the sharp planes of his face. Gods, she fucking hated how much she wanted to reach out and tuck them behind his ear.
She fucking hated how much she wanted him .
His pupils dilated, black swallowing up the crimson as his eyes tracked her movement, bringing a rush of heat in their wake as they blazed a trail across her skin. He glanced down to her empty hands, fisted at her sides. “Just magick, then?” he murmured, his muscled chest heaving as he stalked closer.
Thunder rumbled in the sky, the clouds darkening over the snow-crusted ground of the Shades far below as she answered, “Just magick.”
She was no match for him—not yet, anyway. But she needed this.
He tossed the daggers to the stone floor with a clatter. “Good.”
His full lips curved into that familiar smirk. Taunting and infuriatingly enticing. Making her want to do anything to remove it as heat blistered her fingertips.
She gave no warning as she threw an arc of lightning at him, thunder booming just beyond the fortress. A wave of shadows rose around him in answer, blocking her attack.
White wreathed her hands once more as she threw spears of light, trying to pierce the heavy veil of darkness that swirled around him. Blasts of crackling heat pummeled his shadows, each of them swallowed up in the dense black, until she could barely see him.
Her attack began wild and erratic—but with every strike, her aim was more focused—sharpened. And as she drew on her power, the sky outside darkening with her pent-up rage—she could feel the shape and force of it. Siphoning her magick from wherever it dwelled within her veins and slowly honing it, bending it, tempering it to her will.
Her ears rang with the deafening cracks of thunder, enough to shake the stone Ledge beneath them. Sweat slicked her brow, curling the dark waves of her hair at the nape of her neck as gold veins of her power splintered across the black wall of Ven's magick.
Aurelia risked a glance toward the railing above.
Asher still stood there, watching. His eyes wide with something that wasn’t quite fear as he witnessed her power for the first time. But she was not afraid of him seeing it anymore. She would not hide herself. For anyone.
Dropping her hands to her sides, she offered Ven a small reprieve. The charged air lifted the fine hairs dusting her arms as his shadows dispersed in dark tendrils around him and they began to circle each other once more.
Above them, she heard Karro murmur to her brother, “Right—well. Best leave them to it. Might be awhile." He steered Asher down the corridor, a thick arm thrown over her brother's shoulder. “Have you been to the kitchens yet? Excellent ale . . .” His words trailing off as they disappeared from sight.
Something primal flashed in Ven's eyes as her attention focused on him again. His features sharpening, changing—as if some of the ancient predator their kind evolved from still lurked under his skin. An echo of the male who had claimed her.
“You have more than that,” he uttered. His bare chest gleamed with sweat, knuckles cracking as he flexed his hands, ready for the next attack—making her body respond in a way that made her silently curse herself. He was provoking her. Much like the first time he’d brought her here to test out her magick, before either of them had known exactly what kind of power she possessed.
She took the bait, hurtling blast after blast of blinding light at him. Ven’s shadows danced and eddied around the hissing white branches. Swallowing them, deflecting them. His eyes were wild, the crimson glittering in a way that made him appear half-beast, as if he wanted all of her rage.
“Unleash yourself on me!” he growled, frustration bleeding through his usually controlled facade.
And she did. The fortress shook as thunder rattled the windows and she ripped lightning from the sky itself, raining down depthless wrath.
Every strike landed with lethal precision, until at last Ven began to give up ground, his steps slowly receding toward the sharp edge of the stone in the haze of blinding white.
His shadows seemed to lose their depth as she pushed her advance, until finally one of her strikes breached his defense, ricocheting off the copper crescent around his neck.
His head whipped back as he was struck, and the breath left her lungs—her heart stuttering to a halt.
Ven’s eyes blazed like liquid fire as he pressed his fingertips to his cheek, the red mark already fading as he pulled them away. “It will take much more than that to harm me, Love,” he murmured. An echo of the words he'd spoken to her in that quiet cavern when she'd gone into stasis, her magick leaving his skin blistered and burnt. A prod at her defenses.
And then his lips curved up into that taunting smirk, making her see red.
Heat flooded her palms again as she lunged for him—throwing her entire body at him as he braced for the attack.
She spun into him, tucking her hip into his as she grasped his muscled forearm. The surprise was enough to flip him onto the unforgiving stone of the Ledge—just as Nira had instructed her.
With a knee on his chest, Aurelia fought to keep his arms pinned. He was much stronger than her—she knew that well enough. And it wasn’t long before he had broken free of her grasp and managed to get his legs underneath him. But Nira’s voice whispered in her head as she locked her elbow under his chin, circling his waist with her thighs.
All it would take was a little more pressure, and he’d be fighting for breath.
She knew it.
He knew it.
Ven struggled, and she tightened her hold. He could have disappeared into a wisp of shadow—but he wouldn’t. It was exactly where both of them wanted to be.
“Do you yield?” she hissed.
He stilled. Breath ragged in his chest as he said, “For you—always.”
She released him, but in a single fluid motion, he pulled her on top—her thighs falling across either side of his hips, palms braced against his shoulders as his hands gripped the curve of her waist.
Something shattered behind his eyes as he looked up at her and whispered, “Please—just let me explain.”
Their breath mingled in the small space between them, the charged air enough to set fire to the stone fortress around them. Heat flared down her spine at his touch. At the feel of his large body beneath hers. She was so close to doing something stupid. So close to forgiving him . . .
He made to sit up, but she placed a single hand on his chest, trying desperately to ignore the smooth swells of muscle under her callused fingertips as he submitted, laying back against the cold stone floor.
She grasped the copper crescent hanging from the chain around his neck, warm from his bare skin as she rubbed her thumb along its stamped edge.
“All of it—or none of it,” she bit out through clenched teeth. “No more half-truths.”