Chapter 13
Ido a lot of thinking. I have been experiencing emotional whiplash—something that happens when someone stops the horse too quickly and your head snaps back and forth, then back again.
I need Corrik to be Corrik, but I’ve ruined that.
Corrik holds guilt over his protection methods—not enough to end them, just enough to second guess himself at every turn.
I even threw a brat-fit one day over nothing. It was a cut and dry, Tristan-needs-a-spanking, situation and all I got was a token scolding, which did nothing to soothe my itch and only pushed it further toward the brat button, needing more of that feeling.
Corrik has to know. He’s too far toward the dominant end of the spectrum; he can sense what I need a mile away, but he won’t do anything about it.
This has the brat in me scheming.
Of course, I sit on the open window ledge where Corrik doesn’t like me.
He won’t shut the window, but he will spank me for it, won’t he?
I almost hope he’ll come in and catch me, almost. I toy with the idea of jumping off the ledge to a spot where I’m sure I can land.
It’s not far and with the way the stones have worn and tapered down, I could probably make it all the way to the bottom.
I know exactly where the guards are stationed and at which times they switch off.
Corrik is sure I’ll be abducted again, not believing how much the Aldrien king wanted me gone, but I know, and therefore I know I’m safe from that fate. I could go out for a stroll, get some outdoor time, climb back up and Corrik would be none the wiser.
As if he can hear the idea brewing in my head, I hear the locks to the door begin to open and I’m quick to jump down from the ledge and hop onto the bed with my book, and by the time he comes in, it looks like I’ve been reading on the bed all along.
“How are your studies?” he asks me, a smirk playing on his lips.
My studies have become the topic. At least it seems he wants me out of here, half as much as I do. “Horrible. I don’t get any of this stuff and therefore I can’t remember it.”
When I take the time to notice, I learn things about Corrik, things I adore, like the careful way he considers me and how he’ll approach my struggle so he can help me.
He sets his sword down against the wall near the armoire where his stuff is kept, his long hair shimmering, purple eyes glinting. “I will help you, my darling,” he says.
“I’m sure you have better things to do,” I tell him. I know he does. He’s a very busy prince. His brother Alrik, whom I’ve not seen since we’ve been back—he’s even busier than Corrik—keeps him occupied.
“I have no better thing to do. You are my first priority.”
I’m an arse. I’m acting like a child. Everything Corrik does is for me and he’s asking one thing, a big thing, but one nonetheless and I can’t do it gracefully. “It’s about magic. This book claims you can’t conjure something from nothing, but I’ve seen it done.”
“Tell me when, maybe you just think you have.”
I don’t want to give an example, but I do. “When Bayaden made this hair, where did it come from?”
He runs his hand through it, in awe of it because it’s attached to my head.
“Bayaden is talented, that is clear. To do this, you have to pull from the ether. The ether is Earth’s energy field, something that can be felt, but not seen and from there you can pull things or energy from other things via the quantum field. ”
“What about the part where the enchantment cannot be removed?”
He nods. “Again, something only the most talented and powerful can do.” I get a proud feeling in my belly because Bayaden is mine and I am proud of what is mine.
“An enchantment is a living thing; it is attached to your life force now and cannot be removed easily. I know he told you it can’t be removed, but I believe all magic, or at least most magic can be reversed.
But you can bind magic to other magic; think of the ether like a thread, and intent like a sewing needle. ”
“Ah. Intent. That’s the bit I was missing. Why does it not say that part in here? Seems kind of important. Perhaps it wouldn’t be so difficult to become an Elf if the instructions were better, hmmm?”
Corrik laughs. “Tell Cupper I said to update the book. Things like that are intuitive to us, we forget others won’t have that knowledge. I would still argue it’s not so easy to become an Elf, even with better instructions.”
“Agreed. It isn’t Corrik.”
“The exception is you though, my love. This is meant to be, Tristan. It will happen.”
I roll onto my back and stare up at him. As proud as I am of Bayaden, I’m equally proud of Corrik. His mother claims he isn’t kind, but that’s not true. He just has a lot of sharpness to him, but I appreciate his sharpness; it’s what makes him a good Top. “Cor? Was Andothair very submissive?”
Corrik nods. “He was. More than you.”
“There are times I can be,” I say, suddenly wanting to be as good as Andothair.
Corrik’s onto me. “You did very well during lessons, but I think I knew even then it’s not who you are. I don’t care, Tristan. I love you. I’ve even learned to accept that you have half an Aldrien accent.” He reaches out to toy with my robe.
I decide something. “I still want to take the test in two months.”
“You think you’ll be ready?”
“Yes.”
“That’s the spirit, Tahsen.”
I grab his large hand. “I think that we can be we when we get past this part of the story. Right now, there’s too much conflict.
And one of mine is my heart. It’s broken Corrik, and that’s where some of my conflict lies but it’s time to move forward.
You’re my forever, I want you to be. Beyond the treaty, or Markaytia.
I have been selfish too. I committed to this marriage, and the moment it got hard, I left it. ”
“You have every right to be upset, Tristan.”
“Yes, but to continue to be upset over what I cannot change is foolish. Father tried to tell me that and I listened for a while, but then I reverted to old patterns.”
“Things will be better, I promise. And they’re not so bad now, are they? You’ve had some fun? I even overlooked the other day when you and Diekin decided to play your arrow game again.”
“You’re not as sly about hiding your anger as you’d like to be.”
“And you’re not as good at hopping from the window to the bed as you’d like to be.” He arches one brow, his Dom brow.
It gives me the best shiver, but just because it’s a good shiver doesn’t mean I don’t take heed. “What? How in the Gods’ names did you know?”
“Your racing heart, and quickened breath.”
“Damn Elf senses.”
“I can’t keep letting things go. I won’t from now on, or you’ll get more and more out of sorts. I know something of brats.”
“We’re way more fun than submissives.”
He smiles fondly. “I agree, though a brat is still a kind of submissive. There’s surrender in it.
There is still much to teach you, husband.
But for now …” Corrik traps me between his knees, his cock is out quickly and he’s sliding into me.
“I’m going to teach about our ways you know,” he says into my ear.
“Please, Cor. Stop teasing me.”
“That’s no fun. Teasing you is the best part.” His large cock slides in and out, I moan gripping his husky shoulders. He laughs and his face breaks into one of the best smiles I’ve seen since I’ve returned. “I can’t wait for the days I can put you in chastity and you’ll suffer so sweetly for me.”
Unfortunately for me, my cock likes the sound of chastity, aching just a little more at the thought. You know that’s going to be torture, don’t you? But it’s two against one as it often is, my cock and Corrik teaming up against me.
“Mmmmm, like the thought of that do you?” he says.
“I never said that.”
“Not out loud you didn’t, but I can read you pretty well, my darling.
” He slows down, pumping into me at a maddening pace.
I try to push down longer, to feel him against my prostate more, but he won’t let me move.
“After three days of chastity, all I’ll have to do is give you a look and you’ll obey me, wanting release. ”
“I want release now you bastard!”
He laughs some more, pausing his ministrations to kiss me. “All right,” he whispers. “Come for me, Tristan.”
He grabs my cock and strokes, fucking into me again, long and slow, timing the two movements perfectly, so his cock hits my prostate when his hand reaches the base of my cock.
Come spills over his hand, as I let out a desperate cry.
He’s not long coming after me. Corrik is captivating when he comes, his blond hair tossing back, violet eyes glowing, mouth open in pure ecstasy.
He’s not real. He can’t be real. I don’t know how the Gods managed to make a creature like Corrik; breathtaking and dangerous all at once. “I love you most, Corrik.” Tears fall sideways down my cheeks.
“I love you most, Tristan.”
We make love several times till morning.
We’ve reached that enchanting place again, the one we had just before I was taken.
Things feel resolved, but that’s not a good thing in my life.
It means it’s time for the next adventure to begin and like with all adventures, it begins with a radical happening.