Chapter 29 - Glory
Glory
XXIX
The cavern was glorious.
I’d caught a glimpse of what they’d done with the space when Kalla had led me to and from the hot spring, but she’d kept us moving at such a pace that I hadn’t had a chance to take it in.
Colourful blankets and flickering, fae-magic lanterns draped across the tall ceiling, dousing the room in warm light that gave the impression of sunshine.
Something none of these people would ever be able to see with their own eyes.
The various stalls set up around the circular edge of the room, many now open for business, added to the effect.
In the middle of the space, a roaring bonfire licked upwards, the smoke drifting towards what appeared to be vents in the stone overhead.
Had everything been set up like this when we’d come in, or had they arranged it all while I’d lounged in the water?
Kalla found me and looped her arm through mine. “What do you think?”
“It’s beautiful. What’s the occasion?”
Her blue eyes gleamed. “Every night is an occasion, darling. If you haven’t figured that out yet, how have you lived your life? Come on, let’s get you something to eat.”
She pulled me away from Cammon into the thick of the crowds, and as I’d done before, I glanced at him over my shoulder.
He stood next to the doorway to his—our—room, his eyes still an inky black, his shoulders tense, his wings out but ruffled.
He was the image of frustration, and never had I empathized so much.
My body was still tingling with need. I could have kicked Cliff in the shins for interrupting us right when I’d made up my mind to enjoy a single moment of my life.
My conversation with Kalla in the hot spring had inspired me, and walking in to find Cammon dressed like that…
staring at me like that… I hadn’t been able to resist him.
I hadn’t cared what it would mean to give in, to succumb to his demonic influence.
Not the effect of the bond, but my body’s own urgings.
The memory of his blood, of the feel of his body on top of mine—mine on top of his—turned the pulsing between my thighs into an almost overwhelming squeeze.
After we’d rolled down that escarpment, my heart had raced so fast I’d felt its rhythm in every limb, and when I’d straddled his hips, the only thing I’d wanted to do was ride Cammon into oblivion.
I thought of his warning moments before I’d kissed him. His threat that if he lost control, he would drain me. I knew what would happen if he did. I would lose control of myself, forget all my worries and stresses, and become a creature of passion, devoted to Cammon’s pleasure and nothing else.
A week ago, the idea would have horrified me, but right now, bogged down as we were by so many dangers and other unknowns, there was a freedom in the concept that appealed to me.
Being here, among these vampires who obviously knew how to draw the heart out of every moment, I believed I could happily give in.
I could wrap myself in decadence and desire and forget everything else. No more pretending, no more hiding.
No more books, no more Ashara.
Yet the reminders of home—the parts I loved—faded under the kaleidoscope of colours and sounds and smells.
The atmosphere in this cavern ensnared me, dragging me deeper until my thoughts were nothing but a swirling blend of sensory stimuli, and I followed Kalla through the room without any awareness of where I was going.
My only anchor was the sensation of Cammon’s gaze on me through the crowd. It prickled between my shoulder blades, made the hair on my arms dance and my nipples tighten.
You tempt me more than anything else ever has.
This from a demon.
This without the temporary bond between us.
Who was I that I could have this much influence over a prince? A demon prince who was a master of temptation?
The thought was ludicrous and more than a little exhilarating. I felt powerful. More so than I ever had in my life.
Was that such a surprise? A tempest mage who couldn’t access her magic without demolishing a city, a vampire who couldn’t reveal herself lest she be torn to pieces—I’d only ever known how to hide. Under Cammon’s gaze, I stood bare. Exposed.
A shiver ran through me, and I didn’t know if it came from fear or arousal. A combination of both? To run or to give in. I had time to make up my mind.
Kalla pressed a cup into my hand, and when I took a sip, a mix of blood and brandy spilled over my tongue. Delicious, reviving, but not the elixir that was Cammon’s lifeblood. A second rate offering that promised survival but not the heights of perfection the demon prince had given me.
My beautiful, exiled prince. As lost as I was. So determined to find a place for himself.
Kalla led me to the cushions on the far side of the fire and shoved me into them.
She was talking to me, laughing about something, but I didn’t hear a word, my attention fixed on where Cammon stood on the other side of the room.
He’d retracted his wings, but the space around him remained as empty as if they were extended.
His eyes were clearing, the crimson shining through, but enough black lingered to tell me that if I were to go to him right now, he would carry me back to our nook to pick up where we’d left off.
Was that what I wanted?
I was caught up in the magic of this unique place, where I could be open about who I was without fear of repercussions.
Had that freedom gone to my head? I didn’t want to make decisions I would regret when we left.
Cammon and I still had a little over two weeks to travel together—through dragon territory, at that—and we needed to work as a team to reach our goal.
Sex could complicate things, and Olodin forbid emotions became involved.
If anything got messy, the entire mission could be at risk.
But maybe a single night wouldn’t hurt?
A shudder ran through me as reality fought against the siren’s call of bliss. I was trapped somewhere in the middle, not sure which road to take: the responsible route I always followed, or the sweet reprieve that would allow me to experience something I’d never in my life enjoyed.
Someone pressed something else into my hands, and I looked down to find a plate of food. Meats and vegetables flavoured with spices. My stomach grumbled, and I accepted that I needed energy to face whichever path I took.
“Eat,” Kalla whispered.
I took a bite and the flavours exploded in my mouth, as much a sensual experience as everything else I’d encountered in this place. Before I realized it, my plate was empty, and then it was gone, whisked away by someone moving through the crowd.
The beat of a hand drum, like a slow rush of blood, wove through the dozens of conversations flowing through the room.
I tore my gaze from Cammon—who still lounged against the wall, the image of casual, though I knew he was on constant guard—to look around and spotted a group of musicians set up to the right of the fire.
A woman with a set of pipes and a man with a tambourine carried a melody that was barely audible over the din, but that drum—there was no escaping the steady rhythm.
It reverberated through my veins and into my heart until the beat of both aligned and awoke.
“The music is something else, isn’t it?” Kalla murmured close enough to my ear that I had no trouble hearing her. “A whole other kind of magic.”
At her emphasis on magic, I cast a closer eye at the trio, and this time, I noticed the faint points of their ears, the almost pearlescent sheen to their flawless skin, the depth of their bright eyes.
My eyebrows shot up. “They’re fae?”
Kalla grinned and nodded. “They are indeed.”
Her gaze was fixed on the handsome white-blond man at the drum, who stared right back at her with an intensity that made me blush.
I looked between the two of them and smiled. “Yours?”
She sighed. “All mine.” A shadow of pain—healed but not forgotten—flickered across her happy expression.
“At a cost, but one neither Jael nor I regret paying.” She blinked, and the sorrow was gone, her smile once again in force.
“Which is why you should believe me when I tell you that wherever the beat guides you? Follow.”
Her hand settled on my back, and she shoved me off balance towards the centre of the room, to where the bodies of dozens of vampires moved to the music as though enthralled by that driving, sensual rhythm.
I rose to my feet and stilled, searching for a way out of the crowd.
But as though the fury were conspiring against me, they drew me deeper into it.
Fingers butterflied across my skin, fangs flashed, voices murmured a tone of encouragement in my ears, and before I knew what was happening, the mob spat me out on the other side of the fire. Right in front of Cammon.
He stared at me, his crimson eyes swimming with black, his hands stiff at his sides, and I didn’t know if it was the music, the food, or the spell of the night, but I reached for him and drew him towards me.
His large hands settled on my hips and pulled me to him, and I closed my eyes on a breath, relishing the solidness of his muscular body where it pressed against mine.
The drums pounded through my pulse, building, burrowing, until it wasn’t only my heartbeat that followed along with it but a deeper, growing ache.
One of Cammon’s hands slid up my spine until his fingers coiled through my hair to cup the back of my neck, and his other hand tightened around my hip. I ran my palms over his bare chest, my mouth watering as I followed the span of his golden skin.
His hardened length jutted into my hipbone, and the awareness that he wanted me as much as I did him heightened my arousal until I felt it slicking the insides of my thighs.
He inhaled sharply, his nostrils flaring, but I didn’t have it in me to be embarrassed by my obvious need.
I’d already accepted that, for tonight at least, I was ready to give myself to him.
To set aside all reason and responsibility, to play the fool, come what may tomorrow.
The last of the red in his eyes disappeared, consumed by the inky blackness, and he bent his head to nip at my bottom lip.
My fangs elongated in response, begging to sink into his flesh and partake of the elixir only he could offer.
But a second bite would be binding. I had enough rationality remaining to hold back. For now.
His husky breath skated over my neck as his mouth travelled down, his tongue flicking over my pulse, the crook of my neck, my shoulder.
He lingered there, tongue and lips savouring the curve of my muscle, and clawed at my hips, pulling me even tighter against him.
A low growl rumbled through his chest, vibrating in my ears, and I curled my fingers into his vest to tug him with me as I turned us towards our room.
He pulled back, his eyes wide, questioning, desperate and hungry.
So hungry. Starving. Primal. His horns pressed through his brow, growing and stretching until they were fully exposed.
Hesitant, curious, and driven by desire, I reached up and ran my fingers along the black, ridged shafts, and he closed his eyes with a shudder.
His expression and the reaction of his body were so breathtakingly erotic I nearly hit my edge right there.
And still I felt no shame or self-consciousness. All around us, the sounds and smells and taste of sex were in the air. A fury in celebration, vampires doing what came so naturally to them.
What could come so naturally to me if I allowed it to.
Something Cammon made me believe would be sinfully easy.
His chest heaved with another deep breath, and the groan of longing that followed sent a responding wave through me.
When he opened his eyes, he pinned me with a void-filled stare that stole my breath, and then his mouth was on mine as he guided me backwards.
For a heartbeat, I tensed, unused to letting someone else control my direction, but I drowned that part of myself under the beating throb of my desire.
The idea of letting him lead terrified me, thrilled me, and I didn’t give myself space to doubt.
For tonight, I would be a disappointment to practical, restrained Gloria Dolan. I would be the opposite of the buttoned-up miss who buried herself in books.
For tonight, I would live.