Wooing the Witch Queen (Queens of Villainy #1)

Chapter 15

15

All evening, the cage Saskia had erected around her temper had been bending and shuddering under too much pressure, but her interaction with an actual goddess had—she’d thought —been the final blow.

Now, she knew she’d been wrong.

This —escaping at long last into the comfort and refuge of her library only to find her librarian, already threatened by Divine Elva, now being groped by her so-called ally —was the blow that shattered the crumbling remnants of her cage, leaving nothing but red-hot fury behind.

All of her burning focus landed on the fae across the room, whose small, dimpled hands were still pressed against Fabian’s chest as if they belonged there. Saskia’s precious laboratory notebook fell with a thunk onto the floor. She didn’t cast it a single glance.

She needed both of her hands free for battle.

“Darling!” With a tinkling laugh, Lorelei finally— finally —stepped back, but first, she gave Fabian a godsdamned pat on his chest, as if to offer reassurance… or perhaps a hidden message. Was she setting up an assignation for later? Wait, was he —?

Fabian stepped backwards with a long, lunging stride that spoke of nothing but relief to be free.

Saskia took a shuddering breath. She couldn’t let herself think about the depth of her own relief. Not now. Not when Lorelei was dancing towards her with a smile so smug, it practically screamed of fabulous secrets and bawdy jokes she wasn’t yet ready to share.

“My dear Saskia,” purred Lorelei, “what perfect timing! Your lovely librarian was just about to pr—that is, to teach me everything he knows about written spellwork. Would you care to listen to the lesson, too?”

“ What? ” Saskia stared at her, momentarily thrown off-balance. “Why in the world—?”

Fae or not, Lorelei knew more about spellwork than almost any wizard on the continent. In the first full meeting of the Queens of Villainy, she’d given her expert opinion on various spells in this library after no more than a passing glance. Why would she need Fabian to explain any of it now? Unless…

Saskia’s eyes narrowed. Was this some deceptive new flirtation technique? Did Lorelei imagine that pretending ignorance would somehow make her more appealing to Fabian, as it would have to that crowned fool who’d sat beside Saskia at tonight’s feast? If so, Lorelei certainly didn’t know Saskia’s librarian.

She wouldn’t be given the chance to rectify her mistake.

Taking a prowling step forward, Saskia raised her hands…

And Fabian said, “Everything’s fine! I would be happy to explain the principles of written spellwork, if Queen Lorelei would still care to hear them. It all comes down to choosing a basic structure and understanding the rhythms of classical Serafin pentameter.”

For the first time since Saskia had stepped into the room, Lorelei’s eyes widened with unguarded surprise. She whipped around to stare at him, open-mouthed.

Fabian’s face was hidden behind his enigmatic mask, but his voice was calm and confident as the infamous Siren of Balravia gaped at him. “There are three essential elements to every spell, no matter which structure is chosen. The first element, which sets the spell’s intent—”

“That’s enough.” Despite everything, Saskia had to bite back a smile at Lorelei’s gobsmacked expression. The fae queen looked more disgruntled than Saskia had ever seen her—but Fabian had gifted Saskia with the moment she needed to wrest her own temper back under control. Fury still thrummed through her body, but under his steady gaze, she forced herself to lower her arms and tamp down her waiting magic. “Lorelei, you may play your games with any other man you like, but my staff is off-limits. ”

“That’s—!” Lorelei cut herself off, her eyes narrowing. “Wait. All of your staff? Or just this delicious creature, in particular?”

“ All of them,” Saskia gritted. “I protect what’s mine. Always. ”

“Hmm.” Lorelei looked between the two of them for a long moment—then shrugged carelessly. “Oh, very well! I’ll find my night’s entertainment elsewhere if I must. But Saskia, just so you know…” Fearless as ever, she flitted to Saskia’s side and put one light hand on Saskia’s braced shoulder, ignoring the dangerously bunched muscles underneath. “I really meant it,” she breathed into Saskia’s ear, “when I said before that your librarian is intriguing. I’d work to ferret out all of his mysteries as soon as possible if I were you!”

At that, Saskia couldn’t hold back a low growl of rage—but Lorelei was already dancing away, laughing as she left the room.

The library door fell closed behind her, leaving Saskia and Fabian alone in the close, warm circle of light cast by the oil lamp. Tension still palpably vibrated in the air. Even Fabian’s familiar was gone, no doubt snoozing somewhere among the shadows of the shelves.

So no one else would witness her loss of control if she stalked directly to him, pulled his head down to hers as she’d been longing to for weeks, flung aside that damned mask, and finally—

No! With a snarl of frustration, Saskia turned and strode back to the spot where she’d dropped her laboratory notebook. Pages lay scattered around it on the carpeted floor, casting years of careful records into disorganization. A burning pulse beat in her forehead as she knelt to gather them up, barely conscious of the soft sounds of footsteps moving towards her.

Would the frustrations of this night never end?

Fabian sank down to the carpet beside her, his cloak fanning out to brush her skirt. Saskia let out a long, shuddering breath, the knots in her chest beginning to loosen under the warmth of his presence.

Just another few minutes, she promised herself. Once she’d collected all of her notes, she could bury herself in work until she was too tired to think anymore and she could fall into sleep like a deep, dark pit, safe from every political or physical alarm of this long night. She could keep hold of herself for a few minutes longer.

So, as Fabian lifted a sheet of scribbled notes from the ground with his usual steady, gentle care, she took a deep breath and then reached past him to continue her own part of the work.

She’d misjudged her timing. He straightened as she leaned. Their bare wrists brushed against each other… and held.

He didn’t move away.

Saskia froze, her arm still stretched out in midair. Her gaze was still aimed at the paper-strewn floor between them, but every inch of her body pulsed with awareness of the tingling contact between the lightly haired top of his warm, lean wrist and the smooth, vulnerable inner skin of hers.

She didn’t move to break the contact.

Neither did he.

She hardly dared even breathe, lest she break the shimmering possibility of the moment. If she did, and he lunged away from her again, the way he had the first time they’d touched… or as he had from Lorelei, just now…!

She couldn’t bear the uncertainty any longer. Slowly, reluctantly, she tipped her head backwards.

Fabian’s eyes were dark and shadowed behind his mask, but she could hear his quick breathing and see it, too. His cloaked chest rose and fell before her with his shallow pants of breath.

That was most certainly not revulsion… and something inside her caught fire at the sight.

This flame had been banked for weeks, only waiting to be set free. Saskia’s tongue darted out to moisten her dry lips as she considered her options—and Fabian’s cravat shifted with his convulsive swallow.

His gaze followed her movements as if pulled by a string.

Her lips curved with triumph. Finally.

She would never force her attentions where they weren’t wanted… but she would damned well seize the opportunity that had been gifted now.

Slowly, deliberately, she slid her hand against his skin until she held his wrist between her fingers. Her grip was purposefully light; he could pull away with ease at any moment.

Instead, he shifted infinitesimally closer, his breath growing harsher.

She could easily reach up and lift his concealing mask out of her way—but no. For the first time in years, Saskia felt the urge to slow down and play … and she couldn’t think of a more enticing partner in the world than her soft-spoken, ever-restrained librarian.

How far could she push him before he lost all of that restraint?

Attuned to every shift of his breath, she tilted his wrist until his palm faced her. Then she stroked the forefinger of her free hand lightly across that sensitive skin.

He shivered, eyes falling closed. Heat bloomed deep within Saskia at the sight of his pleasure.

This was the most addictive form of power she had ever tasted.

Slowly, carefully, she traced the lines across his palm, keeping her touch tantalizingly light.

Letting out a low groan, he leaned even closer.

Stilling, she waited until he opened his eyes again and met her gaze. Then she lifted his hand and gave a darting, teasing lick to the vulnerable center of his palm, where so many lines met.

“ Saskia! ” His low, rough cry mingled protest and demand… and marked the first time he’d ever spoken her true name rather than her royal title.

The fire within her surged at the sound of it, breaking free of the last of her restraints.

She grinned up at him, feeling as wild and free as the girl she hadn’t been for years. “Yes?” she said politely.

Then she popped the tip of his long forefinger into her mouth, bit down lightly, and sucked hard.

“Gods!” His whole body jerked.

She ran her teeth against his skin as she slowly released him, savoring the salty tang. “Should I stop?”

“No,” he said hoarsely. “ Please don’t stop. But I need to touch you, too.”

“Hmm.” Saskia had to bite her lip to hold back uncharacteristic, bubbling laughter. Instead of letting it out, she raised a single eyebrow in mock-haughty consideration. “I don’t think it’s quite time for that yet.”

“But—”

“ Sit back, ” she told him sternly… and the flames inside her shot even higher as he followed her order without protest. “That’s better.”

His legs were so deliciously long! She climbed over them to straddle his warm thighs, the thick folds of his cloak bunching beneath her. He’d propped himself up with his hands on the floor, fingers flattened against the thick carpet for balance. Reaching beneath the silver mask, she tipped his chin back, and gloried in the quick pant of his breath as he allowed it. “It is time,” she said, “to lose your cravat.”

She’d never untied one before, but she had always been a fast learner. She whipped off the long black cloth only a moment later, while his arms visibly clenched on either side with the effort of keeping his hands off her.

She could never get enough of this kind of power! Saskia savored the tingling pressure of the air between them as she studied the bare skin of his neck, still tipped back and entirely at her mercy. At this time of night, his fair skin was intriguingly stubbled with dark flecks of hair… and it flexed before her with his swallow.

She couldn’t wait to explore every inch and learn which bits would make him moan.

Sliding her right hand into his hood, she closed her fingers around the soft, thick curls at the back of his neck. Then she curved her other hand around one firm shoulder and leaned in, savoring the catch of his breath and the sensation of his pulse speeding up against her fingers.

She had always loved conducting thorough experiments.

As Saskia dragged her lips and teeth on a teasing, wandering path along his newly exposed throat, taking his reactions as her guide, her world became a blur of heat and discovery and the glorious sensation of his rapidly hardening figure beneath her…

Until the library door opened once more and Mirjana’s harried voice sounded just behind them. “Saskia, you know you can’t just—what in the world is going on here?”

Curse it! Saskia froze with her lips still pressed against Fabian’s warm, stubbled throat.

Her ex-lover had always known how to deflate her self-confidence in an instant. But as she slowly, reluctantly drew back, preparing to turn and face the withering disapproval of her First Minister, the man beneath her suddenly shifted.

A moment earlier, he’d been reclining in graceful submission, head tipped back and lost to the pleasure of her touch. Now, his back straightened and his brown gaze, fully alert, fixed on hers with a message that she couldn’t mistake: she wasn’t alone in this. His strength was hers.

Fabian was ready to support her in this coming confrontation.

Saskia vowed, at that moment, that it wouldn’t be necessary. He’d trusted her enough to be vulnerable in her arms. She would not allow him to be harmed for that now.

Lifting her chin, she rose to her feet with careful precision. By the time she finally turned to face Mirjana, her own face was as cold and set as the perfect statue of a queen. “I believe it is customary to knock before entering a room after midnight.”

“A private bedroom, perhaps. But a library ?” Mirjana let out a high-pitched, sharp-edged laugh. “Did you even recall that this castle is full of guests? All of whom we’re currently trying to convince that you’re not wildly out of control?”

Scalding heat rose in Saskia’s chest, but before it could spill from her lips, Fabian spoke, his voice as quiet and courteous as always. “Out of whose control, exactly?” he inquired as he rose to stand beside her.

Saskia bared her teeth in a ferocious smile, tamping her emotions back down again. “What an interesting question. Would you care to give it an honest answer, Mirjana?”

“Hardly.” Her First Minister’s delicate nostrils flared, but she didn’t spare Fabian so much as a glance. “I am not accountable to your librarian, and I don’t appreciate being addressed in such a way by your latest plaything. You and I are partners, so—”

“We are what ?” Saskia gave a spurt of disbelieving laughter. “It’s been years since we were last together in any romantic way! We are certainly not—”

“I made you queen !” Mirjana snapped, color rising to flush her fair cheeks. “ I was the one managing all the threads of the rebel movement by the end. I hunted you down in the first place, drew you out, and taught you how to talk to humans again! And I was the one who made you finally see sense and take the throne nine months ago. If I hadn’t forced you into doing your duty, you’d still be hiding in that forest with your magical friends now, playing at witchcraft all day long and pretending there wasn’t a kingdom that needed you!”

“You think I went into hiding for my own selfish amusement? My parents—! ” Saskia cut off her words—too raw, too dangerous… too late.

All of her hard-won shields had been used up this evening. Now, memories—held barely at bay ever since she’d first started planning this cursed night’s events—came roaring in to overwhelm her, replacing the people, the room, and even the carpet around her with too-vivid sounds and sights that she could never forget, no matter how she tried.

Her parents’ screams echoing through the palace walls…

Their blood had spread so far across that carpeted floor. Uncle Yaroslav had the carpet replaced, but every time Saskia had been forced to visit that room from then on, she could have sworn she still saw an overlay of blood. And then…

The scents of cinnamon and pine smoke at that next Winter’s Turning…

Her uncle’s openly calculating gaze as he’d debated exactly when he ought to kill her, too…

“Your Majesty.” Fabian’s fingers closed around her arm, warm and steady, pulling her back. “It’s very late. Perhaps it would be best to—”

“Saskia!” Mirjana stepped forward, speaking over him. “Don’t you dare go running off again now. We have important matters to discuss, without your librarian’s involvement. When it comes to high-level governmental issues—”

“Enough,” Saskia rasped.

Only a few minutes earlier, she had blazed with power and certainty. Now, she felt like an empty husk; a petty imposter swathed in too-revealing clothes, ready to topple at the slightest breeze.

The pages of her laboratory notebook still lay scattered on the floor. She trusted Fabian to look after them. She didn’t trust herself on anything at this moment.

Still, she wouldn’t leave him unprotected. “Go now, Mirjana,” she said with all the force that she could muster. “It’s too late for any more discussions tonight.”

“But—”

“I’ll go, too,” she said wearily. “I promise.”

“But… Your Majesty?” In Fabian’s suddenly lowered and tentative voice, she could hear once more the vulnerability he’d gifted her earlier. The skin of his bare throat was still temptingly exposed beneath his silver mask. His black cravat lay crumpled by their feet.

If she only moved a step closer…

Aching and empty, she took a slow step back. “It’s too late,” she repeated under Mirjana’s narrowed gaze.

Winter’s Turning was officially over.