Chapter 22
Atlas
Atlas stood near his balcony doors, his ceremonial jacket half-unfastened.
The new weight of the crown still echoed at the base of his skull, even though it no longer sat on his head.
His hands gripped a glass of untouched whiskey, and his gaze was lost in the quiet swirl of mist creeping up the cliffs beyond the castle.
The day was finally over. The funeral. The coronation. The new form of power they showed off to the lords of Lephyrin, promising a better, more prosperous future under his reign.
All of it sat heavy in his gut.
The creak of his chamber doors sounded, followed by light footfalls, but he didn’t turn. He closed his eyes briefly, rubbing at the bridge of his nose.
“You’re up late,” Atlas said, trying to keep his voice even. “I thought you’d already turned in after the ball.”
Elowynne didn’t answer immediately, but he listened to the soft rustle of her gown as she crossed the room. “I could say the same to you.”
He finally turned to face her, offering a tired smile.
“It was a long day.” He blew out a breath, his thumb nail picking at the glass in his hand.
“The speeches, the crown, the pressure to look like a ruler and not a fucking wreck. And, of course, my brother—” Atlas cut himself off with a quiet sigh, dragging a hand through his hair.
Elowynne took a step closer, her head cocking to the side. “What about him?”
“I know him. I know Draevyn better than anyone,” Atlas started. “And the bastard lied through his godsdamn teeth tonight.”
Elowynne’s lips parted. “What do you think he lied about?”
Atlas’s eyes narrowed. “You were there, Wynne. What didn’t he lie about?” He threw his whiskey to the back of his throat, stormed across the space, and slammed the glass down on the fireplace mantel. “He told me he forgave me. I almost believed him. Almost.”
His eyes met hers across the room. “You saw it. The way he looked at me during the coronation. It was like he wanted to melt the damn crown on my head.”
He let out a slow breath and looked to his soon-to-be queen. They still technically needed to marry. Everything became so godsdamn rushed once his father passed, but she was his wife all the same.
In the low candlelight, Elowynne looked ethereal. The gold coronation gown clung to her in all the regal ways it should, and the rubies in her hair shone with every subtle movement.
She was gorgeous. Everything he never thought he’d ever have or deserve.
But the way she stood there in silence began to unsettle him.
Was she afraid? Truthfully, she had every right to be if she was. Everything had happened so fast, and now they were left to pick up the pieces of a kingdom bleeding behind closed doors. A kingdom that was still so foreign to her, even though he recalled how much she admitted to loathing her own.
Atlas knew he didn’t deserve her loyalty, but gods help him, he needed it.
“I know this isn’t how you imagined our reign would begin,” he said before clearing his throat. “And you’ve been stronger than I’ve been through all of this.”
He slowly moved toward her, searching her face as she stood entirely still. “Is everything alright, Wynne?”
She continued to stare at him, not saying a word.
Atlas reached for her, sliding one arm around her waist, the other hand rising to rest lightly against the back of her head. When he pulled her close, she didn’t resist, but she didn’t melt into him either.
He rested his chin atop her head. “I don’t want you to fear me,” he murmured. “Not ever. Not because of what I had to do. I know what’s said about my blood, about the Rowe name. But I’m not him. I’m not my father.”
Laughter slipped from her, and he froze as the sound gave off a soft echo. It wasn’t her usual laugh, certainly not the one that broke free when they were teasing each other. This one was lower, silkier, like it was wrapping itself around his throat.
“I’m not afraid of you,” Elowynne finally said. “Why would I be?”
Before he could respond, she stepped out of his arms, putting space between them.
“You just don’t seem like yourself,” he said cautiously.
Elowynne turned fully then, her expression unreadable as her eyes held his. “Your brother,” she changed the subject. “Why do you think he lied?”
Atlas didn’t answer right away. Draevyn’s betrayal still hadn’t settled properly. The chaos of that night, the memory of Esmyra bleeding, the fire, the screams, his brother rushing to her side to help…
“I don’t know,” he said, the words stiff. “I trusted him with my life. I still don’t understand what changed. Maybe Esmyra did something to him… manipulated his mind or something.”
“She didn’t.” Elowynne’s words were clipped, as if taking offense.
“I know she’s not elven, but she has other ways. Other powers beyond our understanding.” Atlas sighed. “Or maybe… Maybe he really does love her.”
Elowynne’s body jolted, and she took a step back, looking like she was physically struck. “What?”
Atlas’s brows furrowed. “I mean, he’s said it several times, but I just can’t fathom how the man could fall so deeply for a fucking monster,” he said. “But maybe it’s true, and he does love her. And that’s why he let her go.”
She scoffed, sucking in a breath. “Draevyn does not love her.”
“Since when is that what you believe, Wynne?” Atlas cocked his head to the side as he studied her. She was acting so strange, so unlike herself. “And this wouldn’t be the first time a man chose love over honor.”
“I don’t know,” she said quietly. “Someone as honorable as Draevyn would never risk everything for someone like her.”
“That’s also how I felt, but it appears I don’t know my brother as well as I assumed,” Atlas admitted, stepping close enough that her breath warmed his collarbone. “Because that’s exactly what he did.”
He exhaled, shaking off the storm of thoughts. The fire crackled in the hearth, the echo loud in the silence between them.
“But enough of this,” Atlas said, giving her a soft smile. “Will you come to bed with me?”
With a glint in her eye, she placed her hand in his, letting him lead her toward the bed.
The maroon velvet curtains around the canopy rustled as he sat on the mattress staring up at her.
He watched her in the dim firelight, struck again by her elven beauty.
The way her hair fell, the curve of her cheek, the line of her neck.
But there was a stiffness to her movements, acting as if they hadn’t shared a bed several times before.
Still, Atlas shook the doubt. She was tired. They both were.
He held out his hand once more. “Come here, beautiful,” he whispered, and the subtle, sharp curve of her lip sent his heart racing in anticipation.
Atlas reached for her hips, his hands settling on her curves as he pulled her into him. Elowynne lifted the hem of her dress as he guided her onto his lap. Her powerful thighs straddled him, each of her hands resting on his shoulders.
“Tell me how we’re going to conquer this threat, my king.” Her teeth sunk into her plump bottom lip. “Tell me how you plan to rid us of these enemies. Tell me how you’ll make sure we’re safe.”
“Is this what turns you on now, my queen?” he said with a throaty laugh. “Watching me defend your honor.”
“Mmm,” she purred. Her eyes bore into his as she leaned in, guiding him back down on the bed.
Before he knew it, Atlas was lying flat on his back, Elowynne perched right above him. For a moment it felt like the world narrowed to the space between them.
“How will we defeat them?” she asked. “Tell me how you plan to rule our world.”
Elowynne leaned into him, her fingers brushing along his jaw until she slipped her hands beneath his tunic. Her scent enveloped him as the cool touch of her fingers trailed up his chest.
“Velsinyte,” he breathed, his voice barely audible as she teased him. “Mining more of it is the only way. And once we rid this world of the evil that crawled up from the depths, then I plan to rule Lephyrin with you at my side.”
As his thoughts of it ran rampant, heat rushed to his cheeks while sitting beneath her mischievous gaze.
Elowynne licked her lips, her low voice curling in his ear. “Do you want me, Atlas?”
Atlas tried to settle into the moment, let go of the tension still clinging to his shoulders. But something gnawed at him, a subtle, instinctive wrongness he couldn’t quite shake. However, he ignored the chill running along his spine and let himself fall into it.
“Oh, I do,” he said, drinking her in as she hovered above.
His hands found her hips, pulling her closer, their bodies pressed tight. She leaned down to him, the heat building between them as they lay heartbeat against heartbeat.
But then, as he moved to kiss her, Elowynne bit his lip.
Not gently. Not teasing.
Hard.
Atlas drew back with a breath, startled as he remained beneath her. She’d never done that before. Had never looked at him like this either, eyes gleaming with some feral amusement.
She grinned at his hesitation and, without thinking, he reached up and cupped her jaw, eyes searching hers.
“What was that, Wynne?”
Her head tilted. “I thought you’d like it,” she admitted. A bone chilling smile spread across her face. “Your brother certainly does.”
Atlas thought his heart was about to drop out of his ass. His pulse roared as his grip on her jaw tightened, her cheeks squishing together. “What the fuck did you just say?”
The question landed between them like a blade. What she was implying… her with… with Draevyn. Bile crawled up Atlas’s throat.
And then, in a slow, graceful shimmer, it all melted away.
Elowynne’s face peeled back to reveal eyes of a glacial blue. Her braided dark hair came undone, revealing long midnight locks that now draped over crimson markings seared into her arms. A vicious grin formed on her sharp lips.
All fucking gods.
Atlas’s breath caught. “You,” he growled.
Esmyra only smiled as the rest of her illusion peeled away like fog from the sea. She tilted her head. “Surprise.”