Chapter 13
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
The entire flight to Brackroth was laced with feverish sexual tension.
It did not help matters that Caelian was seated across Kjeld’s lap and his impressive erection continued to bump against the back of her upper thighs and bottom for the remainder of the trip.
She tried to ignore the humming of her blood, the way it droned and rushed in her ears.
It was a scratching type of noise, the sort that made her skin itch.
It took every ounce of effort to be still, to try not to shift, but the combination of her obvious arousal with her lack of magic made it feel as though rough scraps of wool were being dragged across every inch of her skin.
As a lady of Aeramere, a fae born of stars and constellations, her power was also tied to her feelings.
She knew the only guaranteed way to find her fated mate—if she even had one—was to share a kiss.
For it was then her magic, and the magic of her suitor, would claim each other.
It wasn’t necessarily something designed by the fates or stars, but it was almost otherworldly.
Entirely out of her control and yet such an experience would make it seem that she was capable of choosing her own destiny.
But without the power to grant wishes upon falling stars, without any kind of magic coursing through her at all, each feeling and emotion were keenly tied to Caelian’s heart.
She felt everything fully. Expressively. Like she was flayed. Raw and vulnerable. Cracked open. As though a piece of her, some integral part of her very being, was missing.
Unfortunately for Caelian, Kjeld made those sensations a thousand times worse.
She knew his feelings for her were detached.
And she was not foolish enough to believe that undeniable physical attraction was the same as unequivocal love.
On the contrary, one was most certainly separate from the other.
As much as she didn’t care to admit such a wildly harsh truth to herself, she understood that while Kjeld may very well want her in every physical aspect, there was a good chance he was still furious with her for saving his life.
At least, she assumed as much.
He hadn’t told her otherwise, but she could tell.
There was usually a standoffish stiffness to his tone.
Especially when they were in front of other people.
More often than not, he chose to ignore her.
His moods were too unpredictable, fluctuating between genuine warmth and hardened disdain.
His kindness was tainted by cold demand, his patience with her often waned until it was entirely too thin.
The only time Kjeld had shown her any kind of care or concern was when she nearly died.
Even then, his demeanor was harsh, despite the fact that he’d been unable to control his longing for her.
So while Caelian would have loved nothing more than to lean into Kjeld’s broad frame and rest her head against him in comfort, she kept her posture impossibly rigid.
A manner born out of necessity because he’d given her a fair enough warning.
If she moved one more time, if she dared to rub her bottom against his thick shaft, even by accident, then he would bend her over and do unspeakable things to her.
Unspeakable yet decidedly thrilling things.
If only he didn’t view them as a punishment of some kind, for certainly he had to know how much she craved his touch.
Just when her back was beginning to throb, when all of her muscles were aching and taut, pained from lack of movement, when she thought for certain she would collapse against him whether she wanted to or not, misty gray clouds surrounded them.
Here, the air was chilled and damp. Below them, the Arcasian Sea gave way to the angry swells of the Havnokk Deep.
The violent waves crashed against a jagged coastline, pummeling the rocky cliff face with sea foam and saltwater.
Gray mist swirled around them, shrouding the sweeping mountain peaks of Brackroth from view, making the castle built on the rocky ledge overlooking the sea appear dismal and intimidating.
Caelian could understand why Creslyn was so eager to return to Aeramere.
There was nothing inviting about Brackroth.
Kjeld pulled his dragon’s reins and Odryss veered left, preparing to land in what looked like a rather bleak and muddy courtyard.
“Are you certain this is a good idea?” Caelian eased back, until she was able to stop herself from leaning into him, preparing herself for the inevitable impact.
She grasped the leather of his vest, her nails scraping lightly against the smooth surface.
“Should we land where the witch queen can see us? What if we’re not welcome? ”
“If she is indeed a witch, I guarantee you she already knows we’re here.” He guided Odryss lower, wrapping one arm around Caelian’s waist. “Best to hold on, my lady.”
Hold on to what?
She didn’t dare ask the question that plagued her.
Instead, she twisted to face him, flinging both of her arms around his neck, and squeezed her eyes shut.
There was a chance she could have been mistaken, but she could’ve sworn she heard Kjeld chuckle.
The deep rumble of his amused laugh reverberated through her chest, awakening her nerves, sending a rush of heat pooling low in her belly.
Odryss touched down moments later, but what was only a few seconds felt like an agonizing amount of time.
The sound of his claws digging into the solid earth splintered through the dreary courtyard as the chilly mist morphed into a damp drizzle.
Caelian shivered, gradually pulling away from the safety of Kjeld once the dragon settled, lowering himself to the ground.
“Keep your hood up,” Kjeld murmured softly, his rough demand a whisper meant only for her. “Last time your sister was here, they did not take too kindly to the fact that she was fae.”
“They?” Caelian squeaked, peeking over her shoulder, and Kjeld jerked his head to the far side of the courtyard. “But what about you?”
He shrugged off her concern. “Let them try.”
She glanced in the same direction as his calculating gaze, and tiny needles of panic pricked along her spine.
From a distance, she could barely make out the three figures walking toward them through the murky fog.
They moved in unison, and only when they were close enough for Caelian to realize the witch queen was among them, did the guards flanking her expand from two to six.
It was as though they were formed from the mist itself, seemingly appearing out of the unsettling air.
The witch queen sauntered forward, her boots clicking soundly, echoing through the open courtyard.
Crumbling stone walls rose all around them, littered with twisted vines as more guards appeared along the parapet.
Every pair of eyes focused on Caelian and Kjeld.
Watching. Tracking. Daring them to breathe.
Caelian gripped his hand, for no other reason than to calm the wild racing of her heart. “Do we…do we have a plan?”
“Yes. We’ve come to visit from Aeramere in a show of goodwill on behalf of the queen.
” With shocking ease, he scooped her into his arms, dismounted quickly, then set her on the ground without even a labored breath.
“We are only staying for a few days. We mention nothing of the dragon eggs. And we’re to be married. ”
Caelian nodded along, but on that last addition, she reared back and glanced up at him. “I beg your pardon?”
“I know it’s not ideal, but it’s the only way I can ensure your safety during the night.
” Kjeld carefully adjusted her hood, keeping it in place over her slightly pointed ears.
“If I am nothing more than your escort, a guard if you will, then we’ll be separated.
I will have no way of protecting you. Besides, Ariesian will kill me if anything happens to you. ”
She arched a brow, for surely this could not be the same man who harbored such hate against her for stealing his mortality. “I thought you wanted to be claimed by death.”
“I do.” Kjeld bit the words out. “But only on a battlefield, not because I failed at my duties as your babysitter.”
Caelian’s mouth fell open, and she quickly clamped it shut. “Forgive me, General. I did not realize I was such a burden.”
There was a flash of something in his eyes, some dark, shadowy blur of emotions, but then he blinked and it was gone. “Just pretend we’re in love and all will be well. Then we can return to Aeramere.”
“Wenfyre.”
Kjeld’s brows bunched together.
“Wenfyre,” Caelian repeated, unbothered by his needling glare.
“After we’re done here, you will take me to Wenfyre so I can prove to my brother that I am worth something even without magic.
We both know the only reason I’m here is to make sure the witch queen does not pay you any attention.
At least let me feel like I am more than a pretty face. That I can be of value.”
Kjeld opened his mouth like he intended to say something, then thought better of it.
He tensed, sensing the witch queen’s nearness, and carefully hooked Caelian’s hand into the crook of his elbow.
Though the movement was graceful and smooth, his grip was firm.
Relentless. “Whatever you say, min levska.”
Caelian had no idea what he said, but the way his accent thickened and rolled over each word like velvet made her knees soften.
They turned as one, as the couple they were pretending to be, and Caelian got her first real look at the apparent witch queen.