Tower of Shadows (Once Upon A Wicked Villain #2)

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

HAVEN

Rozlyn rolled onto her side, her soft lips so very near to brushing Haven’s chest. Her breath came out slow and even as she slept, and he kept his arm folded around her waist. It was only to anchor her to him if any of the dark remnants broke through his sorcery. But he was confident that nothing could get past it.

Throughout the rest of the night, Haven drifted into dark dreams and woke several times, but it was enough to keep him clear-headed on the journey. He’d grown used to not getting proper sleep, used to his thoughts and rage keeping him up at all hours. Even in his gargoyle state, he’d rarely slept, and at night, when he broke free of his marble cage, he’d been determined to find a way to rid himself of the fucking curse.

But the past few times he’d closed his eyes, Rozlyn was pressed against his chest. And it was her who drove his thoughts.

Beneath the eerie orange glow of the orbs, Haven peered down at his cuff and found that it had faded a little. Rozlyn’s appeared the same. The consummation had worked wonders, and soon, the binding objects wouldn’t be on their wrists at all. When they vanished, he would have to deliver Rozlyn to Nightshade’s manor… Fuck him .

Rozlyn exhaled slowly, drawing his attention back to her face. She was far too trusting—a weakness. What she hadn’t realized was Haven didn’t need to bring them into this closet at all. He could’ve simply kept them in the larger part of the attic that he’d also warded, where they could’ve slept farther apart. But he’d been a selfish bastard, wanting her body against his, even if it was torture for him. And it had been. He could only imagine what it would be like to lick his tongue up her wet pussy. At least once. It was a regret that would burden him—he should’ve done it the night they’d consummated. Yet he didn’t only want to fuck her core with his tongue—he wanted her mouth back around his cock until he spilled himself inside her so he could watch her expression as she swallowed his cum.

Fuck .

Haven had tortured himself long enough, and it was time they left. They’d gotten enough rest and his shadows informed him that the storm had stopped hours ago. If he remained there, he would be too tempted to whisper in Rozlyn’s ear and ask if she wanted to be fucked again. And he knew her answer would undoubtedly be yes . There was no more time to waste though.

Lifting his hand to the wall, he released his shadows to make certain the remnants weren’t lurking about, waiting in dark crevices. When his shadows slipped back inside him, it was almost dawn and clear to leave—the remnants hadn’t dared to show themselves again. Without a doubt, they feared what Haven could do to them if they got near Rozlyn.

If it hadn’t been for coin or believing the curse would turn her to stone, would Rozlyn have already attempted to run away? Even though Haven would return to stone without her hair, Rozlyn wouldn’t become a marble gargoyle outside the tower. He’d lied to her. But lies were necessary to keep one obedient. He knew Vivienne well, and she would’ve left him to his own devices if she’d uncovered the truth. Something about Rozlyn made him believe she wouldn’t.

“Get up,” Haven said, gently shaking her shoulder. “The storm’s over and we need to leave.”

Rozlyn made another soft noise and yawned, her back rising against his chest. He took a harsh swallow as she turned to face him, his arm still bound around her.

“Is it already morning?” she asked as she stood and stretched her arms.

Haven studied her curves for far too long before he answered, “Almost.” He waved a hand, needing to distance himself for a moment, and the closet door opened.

“I have your back.” Rozlyn retrieved her dagger, and her concerned stare met his. It was a look he hadn’t seen from a woman in a very long time. She cared about him, considered him a friend .

His chest unreasonably tightened. That would change nothing. Not his revenge. And not her outcome in the end.

Rozlyn stepped into the attic room while he pushed up from the floor, stretching his numb legs. Haven inspected the area, his piercing gaze boring into the walls, before nodding. She didn’t wait for him to lead her—instead, she brushed ahead of him down the staircase and into the hall, her gaze sweeping the walls and the path. He couldn’t tell whether she was brave or foolish, but there was nothing here she needed to fear at the moment.

The manor stayed quiet as they slipped outside into the light mist, the sun rising somewhere behind the overcast sky. Pools of water lingered across the land of hardened dirt from the heavy storm. Rozlyn snipped off a tendril of hair, and Haven replaced the golden one in his locket.

After relieving themselves near the manor, Rozlyn drew a cookie from a small silk sack in her satchel.

She bit into the dessert with a delicate sigh as he arched a brow and inhaled a bit of cinnamon. “Why are you eating?” Haven grunted. “It’s unnecessary.”

“You don’t have to drink your liquor, yet you have.” Rozlyn winked. “I was in the mood for something sweet.” She broke the cookie in half and held the unbitten piece in front of his face. “Here.”

He didn’t part his lips for her, only studied the cookie and its colorful chunks. “You made this?” he inquired.

“Your kitchen allows one to get creative with their food. So I did.” She smiled brighter and nudged the cookie against his lips. “One bite.”

Haven furrowed his brow but opened his mouth and bit into the dessert, mostly so he could feel her fingertips against his lips. An overly sweetened blend of sugar and fruits slid against his tongue. Not entirely awful, but something he wouldn’t have chosen for himself. “Too sweet,” he said as he chewed.

“Ah, so you like your desserts more bitter.” She pressed her hand back into the silk bag and revealed a square piece of dark chocolate. “I had guessed your tastes already and brought you something along too.”

Haven narrowed his eyes—he didn’t need her to care about him, to know the exact things he enjoyed eating. And while he wanted to tell her he loathed those sweets, that she was wrong, he took the chocolate she now offered him and chewed. Of course it was fucking delicious.

“And I was right.” She grinned, stuffing the sack back into her satchel. “If you want another, I have more.”

“We’ve wasted enough time.” Haven released his wings and placed one of Rozlyn’s arms around his neck, then folded his hands over her backside as she held onto him.

He took off through the mist, his wings cracking like thunder against the strong gust of wind. Rozlyn’s trembles remained at a minimum compared to the prior times. The stench wasn’t as strong as the prior day, and he flew them for a couple of hours before descending.

He didn’t need one of Adham’s spies reporting that the Marquis of Shadows was heading toward the castle. It wouldn’t be hard to tell who a winged gargoyle was, and while some might believe Haven was visiting, that wouldn’t be the case with Adham. He would know it was for revenge and Haven wanted to arrive with no warning at all.

A forest of dead trees appeared through the mist as he drew closer. “We’ll travel on foot from here on out,” Haven said.

“I like the sound of that much better,” Rozlyn shouted over the wind, cracking one eye open.

“If you’re afraid of boats, then you might want to prepare yourself,” he grumbled.

“I love boats!” she chirped, her body no longer trembling.

Haven rolled his eyes, but he found himself fighting a smile. He frowned at that—nothing she did or said should’ve been the least bit adorable. Once Vivienne begged for Haven to bed her, any thoughts and temptations he’d had would end.

As he touched down on rocky ground, Rozlyn left his grasp and held onto his arm to steady herself against the uneven terrain. He drew his gargoyle form back inside himself and waved a hand in the air for his shirt and boots to cloak him.

Haven walked beside Rozlyn at a brisk pace through the forest of dead trees, her smaller legs struggling to keep up, yet she didn’t complain. Through the light mist, not a single thing—living or dead—milled about. He kept his attention trained on the tops of the trees as well as their surroundings when he recalled the fucking will-o’-the-wisps slinking out from the bog.

They continued walking south and the ground became rockier until they broke through the narrow trees. There, a murky green lake produced a foul sulfuric odor. A squishing sound filled the air as the water rippled.

“This is pleasant ,” Rozlyn drawled, cupping her nose and mouth. “I hope you don’t mean for us to swim across it.”

Haven’s stare fixed on a small white boat gliding across the water in their direction, a young dark-haired sorcerer rowing the oars, his back facing them. “No,” he said. “I told you we were taking a boat.”

Haven stepped back with Rozlyn into the shadows of the trees and waited for the boat to dock. As the man knelt to rope it, Haven grasped Rozlyn’s hand and led her across the dock.

“That’s not necessary,” Haven said, his shadows unfastening the rope. He stepped into the boat with Rozlyn in his arms just as the man whirled to face them.

“Get out, you bastards!” he shouted, drawing out a spelled crystal.

Haven cocked his head, his shadows pouring out of him, shaping into blades and swirling closer to the man. “Now, is that any way to speak in front of a lady?”

Rozlyn scoffed. “As if you don’t have a filthier mouth.”

The man froze, then he bowed his head and dropped to one knee. “Marquis of Shadows, I didn’t realize it was you. You may use my boat for however long you wish.”

“If you mention I was here,” Haven said slowly, his words promising punishment. “My shadows will slice you apart so I can mount the pieces inside my tower.”

“I vow I will do no such thing,” he stuttered, his eyes remaining trained on the wooden dock.

“Good.” Haven sat on the boat seat and patted the spot beside him for Rozlyn. She blinked and sank down next to him as his shadows clasped the oars and rowed them away from the dock.

“Will you really do that?” Rozlyn asked.

“I think you know the answer.”

She cocked her head and folded her arms. “A forgetting spell would make situations like that less bloody.”

Haven arched a brow and smirked. “Such simple advice. It’s a wonder I never thought of that.”

“Glad you’ll consider it then.” She smiled, resting her satchel on the boat floor as he rolled his eyes.

When the boat drifted farther from the land, the foul odor dissipated, replaced by the scent of rain. The murky water became crystal clear, but that only made the situation worse for travelers.

“Are those bodies below us?” Rozlyn gasped.

“Yes,” Haven said, peering over the side of the boat as gray spirits churned around one another, their eyes wide, unable to blink any longer. “Once a spirit’s energy has been completely snuffed out by Souldark’s creatures, they wander to this lake and remain here.”

“No one can help them?”

“They should’ve helped themselves.” It wasn’t as if Nightshade’s job was a secret—all they had to do was find him. Perhaps barter with him if needed.

“Maybe if—” Two hands clamped down on the edge of the boat, then tugged it downward. Rozlyn and Haven lurched sideways, and his shadows slammed into the spirit, knocking it back into the water. Another seized Rozlyn’s wrist before yanking her out of the boat, the lake swallowing her screech.

Haven’s pulse raced as he jerked up from his seat, his blood pumping with fury. He shoved his shadows deep into the water, knowing they could glide much faster within the lake than he could. They searched through the collection of entwined bodies, pushed away their reaches, until a writhing light drew their attention, the maiden’s hair as red as blood. His shadows latched onto Rozlyn—another sliced through the spirit clutching onto her until it released her. Haven’s shadows held her closely, and she relaxed into them as they pulled her back up into his awaiting grasp. He held her firmly against his chest while a rack of coughs left her, her shoulders trembling.

“Well, that wasn’t the bath I would’ve chosen,” Rozlyn croaked.

“Don’t look at them again,” he ground out. “You’ll only tempt them to snatch you.”

She turned in his arms and cupped his face, then pressed her lips to his cheek. “Thank you for not letting me drown.”

“I still need you alive,” he said as his fingers brushed the skin where her lips had been.