Chapter 39 #3
“Don’t,” Fenric begged. “Please don’t make me think about what we saw. I’m trying very hard to forget.”
Varyth’s jaw was clenched so tight I could hear his teeth grinding. His hands had finally dropped from my waist, but he’d stepped in front of me. Positioned himself between me and the others like his body could somehow retroactively shield me from this nightmare.
Too late, you absolute disaster. Far, far too late.
“You worked out the tension from sparring,” Darian announced brightly, his grin spreading across his face like wildfire. “Clearly. Very thoroughly worked out. All that... tension. From sparring.”
“So much sparring,” Fenric agreed weakly, still staring at the railing. “Never seen anyone spar quite so... vigorously.”
“With hands,” Darian added. “And mouths. Very aggressive sparring technique.”
I was going to strangle them both.
“Shut up,” Varyth growled, and there was murder in the words. The mist around him thickened, coiling like it was preparing to strangle someone. “Both of you. Now.”
“We’re shutting up,” Darian said, not shutting up at all. “Absolutely. Completely silent. Won’t say another word about the sparring. Or the hands. Or the—”
Varyth snarled.
And then, because apparently, he wanted me to die, Cindrissian’s attention flicked back to me, lingering on my dishevelled state. For the smallest, briefest moment, I saw it. Something flashed across his expression. Too fleeting for me to catch. But for half a heartbeat, it looked like concern.
Varyth finally managed to turn and face them, though his usual composure was nowhere to be found. He inhaled, deeply, like he was preparing to make some sort of swift, dignified recovery. He failed. No words emerged. Nothing. Just air.
Cindrissian’s expression remained far too neutral.
Fenric muttered a curse or a prayer for patience, his gaze darting skyward. His hands lifted, then dropped, a visible war against the urge to turn and leave and never speak of this again.
I couldn’t even fix my shirt. My hands had forgotten how to move. My legs weren’t steady. My throat wasn’t working. I wanted to vanish, dissolve into mist and float off the balcony and never return.
Varyth’s entire frame bristled. He cleared his throat, once. Twice.
“Can I help you?”
“I—” Darian started, then winced.
“We—” A pause.
He straightened, summoning some form of formality back into his bones.
“We were looking for you, Varyth,” he managed, tone strangled. “There’s an urgent matter that requires your attention.”
Varyth nodded, fastening the remaining buttons of his shirt, his movements stiff.
“Very well,” he said, wrestling back some control. “I’ll be with you in a moment.”
Darian did not need telling twice. He spun on his heel, grabbing Fenric and hauling him along as he practically bolted from the balcony.
Cindrissian, however, remained. His eyes dragged over me again, and my breath stuttered in my lungs.
The growl that rumbled from Varyth’s chest was primal, a warning. Cindrissian’s gaze snapped back to him. The tension between them thickened, the space between them crackling with an energy I couldn’t quite identify.
For a second, Cindrissian hesitated.
Then, he gave a single, measured nod. A silent acknowledgement. Without another word, he turned on his heel and strode back into the castle, his cloak billowing behind him.
I released the breath I hadn’t realised I’d been holding. My pulse was still too fast. Varyth remained rigid, his back to me, his shoulders tense enough to shatter. He didn’t turn, didn’t speak, just stared after Cindrissian’s retreating form as if willing him to disappear from existence.
And that growl of his?
I wasn’t sure if it had been for me… or himself.
I sighed, dragging a hand through my hair, trying to collect myself. Varyth was staring after Cindrissian, his jaw clenched, his fingers flexing at his sides.
Instead, he turned to me. “Are you alright?” His hands wrapped around my hips, tugging me closer.
I blinked up at him, suppressing a laugh. “I’m never leaving my chambers again.”
“That seems excessive.”
“I’m going to live in the walls. Become a cryptid. Haunt the castle.”
His laugh was quiet but real. “It wasn’t that bad.”
I pulled back to stare at him in disbelief.
“Are you insane? Cindrissian saw your fingers inside me. Fenric is probably throwing himself off the nearest tower as we speak. And Darian.” I shuddered.
“Darian is going to tell everyone. Everyone, Varyth. By tomorrow morning, the entire castle will know we were—”
I cut off as Varyth’s lips brushed against mine, a soft, fleeting caress.
“Let them know,” he murmured against my mouth. “Let the whole fucking realm know.”
I searched his face for any hint that he didn’t mean it. But his eyes were steady, certain, burning with something that made my chest tight.
“Varyth.”
“I’m tired of pretending,” he said quietly. “Tired of watching you from across rooms and acting like I don’t want to drag you into the nearest closet. Tired of other males looking at you like they have a chance when you’re mine.”
The possessiveness in his voice sent heat spiralling through me all over again. “Yours?”
His thumb traced my bottom lip. “If you’ll have me.”
The words hung between us, weighted with everything we’d been dancing around for weeks. Everything I’d been too afraid to admit. Too guilty to reach for.
“I’ll have you,” I breathed, the words barely a whisper but somehow the loudest thing I’d ever said. “All of you. Every infuriating, possessive, cryptic piece of you.”
His smile was devastating. Slow and wicked and completely unguarded for the first time since I’d known him. “Good,” he murmured, pressing another kiss to my lips. “Because I wasn’t planning on giving you a choice.”
A laugh bubbled out of me, shaky and surprised. He grinned against my lips, unrepentant, before kissing me again, deeper this time, both of us reluctant to pull away.
“Now,” he said, pressing another kiss to my lips. “I should go before Fenric comes back and I have to throw him off the balcony for looking at you.”
I laughed again, shaking my head. “You’re not throwing Fenric off anything. You can’t murder everyone who looks at me.”
“Debatable.” Varyth’s eyes glittered with dark amusement. “The male has seen far too much of my personal business for one lifetime.”
“Personal business. Is that what we’re calling it?”
“Among other things.” His hands tightened on my waist, pulling me flush against him again. “Though I can think of better names for it.”
“Such as?”
His mouth found my ear, breath hot against my skin. “Mine.”
The single word sent a shiver racing down my spine. Before I could respond, he was pulling back, putting distance between us with visible effort.
“I really do need to go.” He pressed his forehead against mine. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Tomorrow. Right.
The meeting with Nyxaria.
His thumb dragged along my hip, his voice dropping into a silken promise. “And after that… we can talk.”
Heat bloomed under my skin. I swallowed. Gods.
Varyth took a deliberate breath, schooling himself back into the unshakable, untouchable High Lord, straightening his tunic, smoothing his hair.
And then, with all the effortless authority of a ruler who hadn’t been caught against a wall with his hands down my pants, he strode back into the castle.