The Blood Crown (The Blood Folk #2)

37. Chapter 37

Chapter 37

A urelia had lost all sense of time in that small paradise with Ven, but with the promise of a scalding bath, his shadows wrapped around them, bringing them back to that familiar stretch of corridor, just beyond the threshold of his chambers.

He carried her into his room, kicking the door shut behind them with a bare foot.

She’d only managed to get him to agree to put on pants. And only at the concession that she didn’t put on any of her clothes as he cast them back to his rooms, cloaked in the satin midnight of his shadows and nothing more.

Tendrils of steam rose up to the high ceiling of the bathing chamber as Aurelia closed her eyes and savored the gentle rise and fall of his chest against her back, his muscled thighs on either side of where she sat in his lap in the deep stone tub.

He cupped warm water in his hands, trailing it across her shoulders and washing away the grit of the spring, lifting to trace the vein along her neck, still blissfully tender from his earlier attentions.

The hours they’d spend together hadn’t been nearly enough for her to prove to him that she wanted him—but she had the rest of her life to tell him, to show him.

“The ceremony you spoke of,” she whispered over the billowing steam, “a blood oath taken before witnesses . . .”

She felt his breath hitch behind her as his hand stilled.

Turning to face him, she placed a palm against his hard chest. “I love you” she murmured, feeling his body relax, as if he hadn’t been certain of her feelings for him even now.

Pulling away, he swallowed hard, a sober look on his face as his eyes darkened. “You would claim me?” he finally whispered. “Before our friends? Before this court?” His voice broke, crimson eyes sparkling with emotion as they searched hers. “Will you bind yourself to me—of your own volition?”

She could see that he fought the urge to look away—as if she might refuse him. As if there was ever a future where he did not belong to her and she to him.

“Yes.”

A tear slipped down his cheek as he kissed her.

“I love you,” he whispered against her lips, the devotion in his voice bleeding into desire.

His hand dipped below the surface of the water, fingertips slipping between her thighs as she gave into him with a breathless sigh.

The water had gone tepid when they finally emerged from the bathing chamber.

Aurelia toweled off her damp hair, pausing as she crossed the doorway back into Ven’s bedchamber.

Midday leaked through the arched dome of windows, gilding everything as it cascaded down the bookshelves and onto the dark stone floor, emblazoning the veins of gold and bronze.

Warmth flooded the space from the large fireplace in the corner, crackling softly. Two familiar overstuffed leather armchairs sat on the rug in front of the hearth. The large bed was made, but everything else remained just as they’d left it. Oiled blades—discarded and gleaming on the desk tucked into the corner. Haphazard stacks of books lining the shelves on the wall—tidy, if not a little disorganized.

The picture before her was so ordinary, so mundane, but her eyes soaked in every detail of the room that she’d missed so desperately. The broken-in chairs and the full bookshelves.

But it had never truly been hers.

Ven tugged on a pair of low-slung pants behind her. He leaned against the doorframe of the adjoining bathroom, hooking a bare foot across his ankle as his gaze followed hers.

She was still a stranger to most of the customs here, if couples kept their own private chambers as the nobility did in the Capitol or if they shared space, she couldn’t be certain. So much had changed between them since they’d left this place that maybe Ven would appreciate some space to call his own.

The chambers down the hall suited her well enough . . .

She turned to leave, but Ven reached out, capturing her wrist between his fingers. “If you think I’m letting you out of my sight for even a second . . .” His gaze slid to hers. “Stay—here. With me." He pulled her closer. "These chambers are as much yours as they were ever mine—and now . . . they could only ever belong to you.”

The offer split something open that she’d desperately tried to suture shut since she’d left this place months ago . . . a tear escaping as Ven wrapped his large hand around hers, brushing a kiss across her knuckles.

“ Ours ,” she replied, pulling his face down to hers with a contented smile.

“Our bookshelves,” he murmured against her mouth, “ our bed.” He glanced toward the crackling fire and the piled rug before it. “ Our rug . . .” he whispered wickedly, sending a lick of heat down her spine at the insinuation in his voice.

Her stomach grumbled an interruption, making her wonder exactly how long they’d been in that cave—the mere thought making a blush rise into her cheeks as she turned to Ven. “I’ll find some food for us.” It was the least she could do after everything he’d done for her.

She started for the door, meaning to finally meet the impeccable cooks in this place and learn her way around the fortress to the kitchens.

She meant to stay here—to make this place her home. And fully settling in meant finding where the stash of rich coffee and loaves of crusty brown bread were kept, and who to make friends with here to make certain that she had a steady supply of both.

“Stay,” Ven growled in response, "here." Wrapping one arm behind her knees and the other around her waist, he scooped her up, eliciting an undignified squeak from her. “ I’ll find us some food,” he added, gently plopping her back into her chair as he opened the door.

“Am I that untrustworthy?” she laughed.

“I wouldn’t expect you to understand,” he kissed her gently on the cheek, “but feeding you— after ,” a faint blush spread across his golden skin, “is an instinct I can’t ignore.”

“Can’t you just snap your fingers?” she challenged.

“I can’t explain it—" he argued, his lips finding her throat, "but I need to make you the plate of food myself." His breath hot against her already fevered skin. "Feed you—myself.”

“Is this some claimed male nonsense?” she asked, breathless from at the unfettered attention he lavished on her.

“Something like that.” He smiled softly. “Just—promise me you won’t leave these rooms.” He brushed a final kiss across her hand. “Please.”

The door creaked and applause broke out.

“Finally!” came the thunderous reply as Aurelia whirled to face the open door behind them.

Karro’s grin was one of pure joy as he barreled into the room, crushing Ven into a hug before Embra squeezed behind him, a whirlwind of emerald and celedon, sweeping Aurelia into an embrace.

The others at least had the shame to pretend they hadn’t been listening as they sheepishly entered the room to offer their congratulations.

Eavesdroppers—the lot of them.

A blush stained her cheeks as Asher appeared next to Seth, a smile of approval on his face as his green eyes met hers from the doorway.

Seth elbowed Nira, a conceited smirk tugging at his lips as his twin begrudgingly placed a gold coin in his outstretched hand.

“Shameless,” she laughed, earning a grin from the Wraith as he palmed his winnings.

It wasn’t long before Ven returned with a small feast fit for six and laid it on the low table between them.

They’d been left alone after Nira finally managed to chase everyone off, and she sat across from Ven in the well-worn chairs, enjoying the warmth of the hearth now crackling with a roaring fire.

In her darkest moments, she’d wondered if she would ever see this place again. Ever read the books here or drink a cup of coffee before the fire. And now that they were back—she wouldn’t waste a second of it.

Her stomach grumbled louder this time in response to the delicious aroma. Crispy browned chicken and the pot roast that she had come to miss since she’d left this place. Buttery green beans and thick slices of bread.

She tucked into the food greedily. She’d grown so lean and weak over the last month that all she wanted was to feel full again. She planned to be back on the Ledge tomorrow, training and trying to regain some of the strength she’d lost since she’d left.

Her mouth full already, she glanced up, catching the satisfied smirk on Ven’s face as he watched her eat.

“What?” she rolled her eyes, taking another bite of mashed potatoes drowning in dark brown gravy.

“Nothing—” he chuckled, taking a healthy sip of the wine in his hand. “I’m just a little envious of the food for putting that look on your face.”

She threw her napkin at him, but it did nothing to stop the flood of heat to her body.

If he kept looking at her like that they’d never finish their meal.

Desperate to change the subject, she asked, “Have you heard any more about Valea?”

His half-sister no longer seemed on the brink of death, thanks to Embra’s healing magick and a steady dose of Karro’s blood.

“Recovering well, so Embra tells me," Ven answered, his tone guarded.

“Do you think the Wraiths will accept her? Allow her to stay?”

Ven leaned back in his chair, lean legs stretched out before the softly crackling fire. “They’ll tolerate her presence so long as I tell them to . . .” He took another sip of the wine in his glass, his expression turning thoughtful. “Whether they accept her or not is up to her. ”

“You don’t trust her,” Aurelia hedged.

They shared blood—but they might as well have been strangers. She was still the daughter of an enemy kingdom.

“I trust her actions,” he replied. “And so far—those have been self-serving . . . Only time will tell where her loyalties truly lie.” He swirled the wine in his glass, just wine tonight. Not Red.

The taste of Ven’s blood was still fresh in her memory, but she didn’t take the availability of the synthetic blood the Allokin developed for granted. Especially now.

A small smile tugged at her mouth at the thought of Valea trying Red for the first time. She could only imagine the look of horror on the female’s sharp features at the thought of synthetic blood. Although if Valea had the nerve to ask, she didn’t doubt Karro would continue giving it willingly.

Did she have any memory of the hours he sat at her bedside? The deep purple smudged under his eyes from the sleepless nights? The melodies he hummed to her when he thought no one else was listening?

Giving blood was intimate—a vulnerability, but Karro hadn’t hesitated for a second to offer it to speed Valea’s recovery.

Whatever one-sided attachment had formed between them was so obvious to her that Aurelia wondered if everyone else saw it, too.

That was something that didn’t feel safe to bring up just yet.

If Ven had noticed the way those two circled each other, sized each other up—he didn’t let on.

At first, Aurelia had suspected it was the excitement of a worthy opponent—Valea was one of the few people they’d come across who could hold her own against Karro . . . and then it seemed as though he simply enjoyed the challenge. The female all but hissed at him whenever he spoke to her.

The image of Maloch’s heavy blade slashing through the air ripped through Aurelia’s thoughts. Valea’s bloodied body at his feet.

She’d thrown herself in front of him—and there had been nothing self-serving in that . . .

And the look of anguish that had twisted Karro’s features as he’d laid her at Embra’s feet, begging— begging for Embra to heal her . . . She couldn’t quite make sense of it.

If Ven spent any time wondering about it, he didn’t say. Or he’d rather not think about it at all. Valea was his sister, after all. Half -sister. But Karro was nearly a brother to him.

It definitely wasn’t something she would have cared to think about if she’d found herself in the same position.

“And your brother—are you satisfied that he is safe and well?” Ven quietly asked.

She considered the question for a moment.

It was strange to find a piece of her old life fitting into her new one. But now . . .

Asher was here. With her. With them .

When she’d seen him again for the first time, his eyes had been lit up in laughter—his mouth split wide in unfettered joy, nearly making her feel like an outsider in this place that she had come to call home.

But maybe he could call it home as well.

What came after was something she hadn’t had the time or the energy to consider. She was so overwhelmed with the mere fact that he was here —alive—that nothing else really mattered at this moment.

“Yes,” she finally answered, her words closer to a sigh of relief as she sank back into the chair.

“Good,” Ven answered, snapping his fingers.

The plates were cleared instantly, but a hunger for something else was in the depths of his gaze as he slid the table out from between them and prowled toward her.

Her heartbeat thudded in her throat, every thought emptying from her mind as his deep voice rumbled through her chest, licking fire down her spine. “Because I plan to occupy the rest of your evening,” he drawled, his body towering over hers as he placed his hands on either side of her chair, caging her in. “And the entire night.” He kissed the sensitive place below her ear, the tips of his fangs grazing her neck and sending a fresh wave of goosebumps across her skin. “And tomorrow morning if you’ll allow it,” he whispered against her throat.

“I seem to remember something about a rug . . .” she murmured.