EIGHT
G ardens climbed the hillsides beside the towers and met behind the castle in a lush bowl that overlooked countless forest-filled slopes.
I admired them through the windows while writing to Bernie to inform her of my safety. Snow fell, dusting terraces and filming the blue and pink tulips. Idly, I wondered what magic was needed to keep them thriving during the colder months.
Guards stood under awnings. Others patrolled the cloud-shaped hedges and flower beds. Now and then, a glimmer of armor sparked just beyond the tree line of the woods.
I could only guess what Garran might fear now that the Unseelie had been locked in their realm. I hadn’t lived long enough to know what life had been like for these royals prior to the war. Perhaps such precautions had always been necessary.
Yet murmurs within the castle halls ceaselessly interrupted my attempts to write. As did Elion’s warning and the memory of Atakan’s blood-spattered boots and clothing.
Distracted, I decided to keep the letter precise but long enough to comfort my sister. I gave it to Elion, who promised to ensure an owl would depart as soon as night fell.
The murmurs became clearer as I floated through the halls and drifted toward the soft voices. Staff spoke of skirmishes near Ethermore’s royal city of Cloudfall and whispered excitedly about the impending ball.
Evidently, danger still lurked beyond the spelled borders of the Unseelie kingdom. Although intrigued, I failed to feel much else when my own safety was but a long-ago wish.
The staff merely paused in conversation to dip their heads when I passed, seeming unconcerned to be caught gossiping while on duty. Agatha would’ve had them tossed from the castle grounds—disgraced—unless my father caught wind of it. Then they would simply have their payments docked for a time.
I missed lunch. Intentionally.
Taking advantage of whatever the prince was doing—likely torturing unfortunate souls or entertaining Ruelle—I curled upon the floor cushion to nap.
I woke before the door opened, blearily watching the flames in the hearth. So when it slammed, I sat up before my hair could be trodden on again.
Atakan set a tray of delicious-smelling stew on the nightstand. “You will not be joining us for dinner.”
If he expected me to be offended, then he hadn’t even half a brain. “Merciful Mothers.” Loud and close to laughing, I sighed in relief. “Perhaps your sour persona is hiding something a little sweet.”
He tensed, and his immediate irritation almost caused me to do the same.
Before he could spill his vitriol, I gestured to the meal. “Am I to believe you haven’t poisoned it?”
“If you’re truly half faerie…” He walked to the door, a smirk thrown over his shoulder. “Then use your lacking senses to find out.”
The stew cooled in the frosted air barely touched by the fire.
After long deliberation, I did as he’d said and sniffed the bowl, cutlery, and even the bread. I was no expert at detecting poisons, but I’d sensed enough oddities in my twenty years to know when something was off and when something was simply wrong.
I devoured every drop of stew, dragging the bread through the remnants and leaving no crumb behind. Pleasantly full, I foolishly took more time bathing than I should have.
The door swung wide open.
Atakan leaned against the frame. “Still breathing, then,” he said.
“Disappointed?” My arms itched to cover my breasts. The water hid them, though not quite enough. If I moved, he’d see all of them. If I left the tub, he’d see all of me.
Damned idiot , I inwardly scolded.
“I’ve yet to decide.” He tilted his head, blond strands falling over a thick brow. “Perhaps you should get out so I can properly ascertain how I feel.”
His voice had dropped—deepened.
Maybe there was simply water in my ears. “You know I won’t hide from you.”
His teeth scraped his lower lip. “Do I, though?”
The steamed air chilled.
He was challenging me. Hide or play. Fight or surrender. He knew I loathed cowering from him.
He also knew I wouldn’t.
My toes curled against the porcelain as I grappled for a way out of this. “Why don’t you go and bother Ruelle with your cruel charm?”
He hummed and scratched at his clean-shaven jaw. “If I thought that might bother you, then I would. Alas…” He straightened and unhooked the towel from behind the door. “I suspect you’d rather I spend the night in her bed than in my own.” As he offered the towel to me, his mouth curled. “And I do hate to give you what you want.”
“Prince, I’ve already told you…” My eyes narrowed on the towel as if it were a hidden trap in the woods. “If you wish to touch me, all you need to do is ask.”
“I don’t like asking, and I don’t like you.”
My laughter was genuine. “You’ve made that abundantly clear.”
“I never said anything about touching, either.” He shook the towel. “Make your choice, dread.”
“Call me something else, and maybe I’ll make my choice quicker.”
“I think you’ve already made it, and you’re just enjoying making me wait.”
He wasn’t wrong. I was making him wait. But I wasn’t enjoying it.
At least, I wasn’t until I gripped the side of the tub and stood.
Water cascaded down my body. The prince’s eyes widened ever so slightly. Impressively quick, he steeled his expression. His features turned to stone, save for that muscle feathering in his bladed jaw.
With my eyes on his and his own on my breasts, I took the towel.
That glowing gaze drifted to my soft stomach, fastened upon my wide hips, then dared to roam even lower. Before it could settle between my thighs, I draped the towel around me and stepped out of the tub.
Then I left him in the bathing room to sit in front of the fire.
Atakan entered his bedchamber a moment later. Stroking the scars upon my ankle, I listened as he removed his coat. His boots thudded against the wood floor. His bare feet would have made his approach nearly imperceptible if I hadn’t been wound so tight—so hyperaware of his presence.
He stood behind me.
In an effort to stop fear from increasing my heartbeat, I asked, “So what have you decided?” At his silence, I reminded him, “Are you disappointed that I still breathe?”
“Yes and no.”
Then my hair was gathered—so unexpectedly and so gently that I stilled.
He didn’t let me stay surprised for long.
He wrapped it around his hand, tight and stinging my scalp as he stepped closer and pulled. My head was forced back until I stared up into those menacing yet beautiful eyes. “Drop the towel.”
Satisfaction slithered through my cold veins, warming them instantly. “Why?”
His eyes narrowed. His hand tugged. “Then don’t.” But he didn’t release my hair, and he didn’t move.
He was so close, his knees brushed my shoulders. I wanted to drop it. Goddesses knew why, but I wanted to unwrap the towel. I wanted him to see me again, and I should’ve felt ashamed.
He was more than despicable. He was a monster.
Yet the towel fell to my lap with one nudge of my fingers.
I held his gaze, and he held mine. I understood then that this wasn’t about embarrassing or shaming me. He’d long learned that he couldn’t force those things so easily.
This was what I’d suspected when I’d left this very castle a year and a half ago—a game of hunter versus prey.
One neither of us wished to lose.
His grip on my hair gentled as he inhaled sharply and allowed his eyes to move to my breasts. My nipples had already hardened. From the cool air , I told myself. But the air couldn’t make them ache.
It was his attention that awakened my body. That made it betray me by hungering for the one thing I should never crave.
I didn’t want him.
I just… wanted . Victory, mainly, but I would settle for the smallest of prizes to use as stepping stones along this perilous journey.
Judging by the way he shifted, he tried to stop it.
He failed. His throat bobbed as he swallowed, and more flecks of emerald darkened his gaze. He was lusting after the creature he loathed.
His order was ragged. “Stand up.”
I did so without thought.
“Good.” He released my hair and stepped back.
I collected the damp strands over my shoulder, combing them to appear unbothered as he studied me.
His nostrils flared, and his eyes met my mound. A slow blink, almost drowsy, and then his gaze jumped to mine. “You’re aroused.”
Tilting my head, I frowned and feigned confusion.
“I can smell it.” His voice was rough, crinkled brows further confirming his perplexed state. “You know I can.”
“What would you like me to say?” My burst of laughter was breathy yet genuine. “That I’m sorry?” Shaking my head, I moved for the dressing chamber.
“You will sleep in the bed.”
Stunned, I turned back to face him. I hadn’t thought this far ahead. It likely showed as I stood frozen. “Naked,” I said, to be certain that was indeed what he’d meant.
In answer, he loosened the already loose ties at the neck of his tunic, then lifted it over his head.
“You truly are a monster.” I refused to look at his chest. It would only give him more tallies on the scoreboard.
He kept his britches on, and I caught a glimpse of the violent definition of his hips when he leaped onto his bed.
“You have no idea.” He stretched over the side farthest from me, his elbow bent and his head in his hand. “Are you not dreadfully tired after barely sleeping last night?”
How he’d known such a thing when he hadn’t returned to his rooms was something I’d need to ponder another time. When I wasn’t wholly focused on his every breath, word, and minuscule movement.
I confessed, “I am, actually.”
His brows rose as I traipsed to the bed.
Gingerly, I lowered over it. Surprisingly comfortable despite the atrocities he’d likely committed on the mattress, I turned on my side, too, and curled my arms over my chest.
He glared. “Remove them.”
I smiled. “But—”
“Remove them, or I’ll tie them to the headboard.”
I shivered, feigning delight at the thought. But although it would terrify me to be at his mercy in such a way, I couldn’t ignore the jolt of excitement within my chest.
“I thought you were simply being a bold fool, but perhaps I was wrong,” he murmured, seeming utterly sincere as his eyes left my exposed breasts and met mine. “You do enjoy this.”
“Enjoy what?” I whispered, not meaning to but suddenly without enough breath.
His answer was a wide smile that revealed his dimple and tightened my stomach with anticipation and alarm.
Perhaps Etheria, the goddess of this realm, was as cunning as her children. Monsters shouldn’t look like him. Shouldn’t be granted the beauty to disarm their prey with a simple, half-dimpled, portrait-worthy smile. Every inch of Atakan Ethermore was a trap designed to entice and torture and kill.
The fire crackled. The air in the room stifled, thickened from tension.
Feathers rustled, crushed as the prince dropped his head to the pillow and placed his hand in the space between us.
Painstakingly slow, his last two fingers curled with his thumb, leaving the index and middle finger standing straight toward the curtained canopy of the bed. “Sit on them.”
My heart roared in my ears.
Hearing its fast dance, Atakan smirked.
Useless excuses spun through my mind as I remained silent and stared at that cruelly divine mouth. Excuses I didn’t want to voice. I shouldn’t have even been tempted to rise to this challenge. It might have been another game, but he was completely serious.
I could surrender, as I was sure he expected, or I could chase the feelings warming my body and win.
A bargain cannot be broken. It went against the spiritual laws of these creatures. One cannot be cunning and trustworthy at the same time—so deals were essential to maintain relationships and a semblance of order.
I stated my terms. “If I sit on them, then you will sleep on the floor.”
Long lashes nearly met his thick brows. “My, my…” He dragged his tongue over his teeth. “You are bold indeed.”
Reaching over the mattress, I stroked those two fingers. “The choice is now yours.”
He didn’t move them, and he didn’t remove his eyes from mine. I’d gained the upper hand. So of course, he said, “Fine, but only if you come.”
I wasn’t sure I could.
But I was shamelessly sure I wanted to try.
My finger traced the long length of the two digits he wished to place inside my body, pausing at the callus upon his knuckle. I would’ve preferred only one finger, but saying so could give away my innocence.
The last thing I needed was for Atakan to learn about that.
Just as his fingers began to curl around my own, I exhaled, “Fine.”
His chest rose, then fell in a heavy heave when I sat up.
Slowly, I inched toward his hand on my knees. Not since I was so young that I needed assistance bathing had I been this exposed. I’d been so fixated on the future I’d now met and ruminating on how I might survive it that I hadn’t thought I wanted to be.
I’d never realized how much I wanted to be.
As soon as his fingers brushed my core, I gasped. I stared down at his hand, waiting for it to move.
It didn’t. Wouldn’t.
This was my decision. This would be my doing.
I took his fingers and, with care that likely hinted at my inexperience, slid them through me until they encountered my opening.
Then I lowered onto them.
Atakan hissed. Veins bulged in his forearm as it clenched. He wanted to do it himself, and realizing the restraint he battled gifted me the bravery to ignore the burn and spread my knees wider.
I pushed down.
I made sure to stop before his fingers met the barrier I’d yet to break, and while I breathed through the discomfort, I dug my own fingers through my hair. My eyes closed. My breasts felt heavier as I shifted the long strands over my shoulders.
I bit my lip and glanced down at the prince.
His mouth had parted—gone slack. His eyes fastened to his hand between my thighs, almost completely emerald.
Allowing my own to roam over his pectorals to his abdominals, I traced the deep grooves between them and imagined what it might feel like to touch them. Scrape my nails over them. My earlier arousal returned, and I rocked my hips to chase the growing heat.
Faster. Harsher.
“Dreaded Mildred.” Atakan slid his teeth over his lip, and swallowed. “You’re dripping all over my hand.”
Those husked words only ignited more flames. But it wasn’t enough. I needed more, but I couldn’t bear down. If I did, I would break. I also couldn’t touch myself. I knew he wouldn’t allow it.
“Touch me,” I rasped.
As if he’d been waiting, he accepted the challenge instantly.
I thought he’d touch my breasts, as he’d seemed somewhat fascinated by them. Instead, he licked his thumb.
Then brushed it over my clit.
My thighs shook, and I moaned.
The sound shocked us both. His eyes climbed to mine, then returned to the fingers I rode with desperate juts of my hips. He brushed me again, then waited and watched. On the third touch, he applied more pressure, and I moaned louder.
I had no space in my hazed mind to feel embarrassed about the guttural sound. Pleasure swam through me, bittersweet.
Atakan crooned, “There we are.” He took his thumb away, waited for suspended seconds, then circled my clit. “Give in, defiant creature.” Softly, he flicked it.
Rapture stole me. So swift, I became nothing but feeling. Nothing but pulsing and mindless warmth. My body took over as I surrendered to it.
A mistake.
Pain chilled me to my quaking bones.
A near-silent scream fled me as I fell forward onto my hands. My arms and breath trembled.
I hadn’t realized how close the prince was. Not until he moved my hair aside to study me as I breathed through gnashed teeth.
Lust glazed his eyes, but shock rounded them. He sniffed, then sniffed again as he reared back. “No…” His laughter was hoarse with disbelief and unmistakable delight. “What have you done?” He wriggled his fingers inside me.
I flinched and growled.
He chuckled. “Darkest fucking skies, dread.”
The burn was so intense, so complete, it was all I could do to keep from whimpering.
“You saved yourself for me.” With unexpected gentleness, he removed his fingers from my stinging body. “How unfortunate,” he said, thick with dry amusement.
His throaty groan lured my eyes.
He dragged his tongue over his fingers, then placed them into his mouth. The pain faded the longer I watched him lay there, lazily and thoroughly cleaning my pleasure and destroyed innocence from his hand.
My body rewarmed.
Before I could manage thought, let alone tell him I hadn’t saved anything for him, he left the bed. A burgundy scarf I’d used to secure the drapes to the bedpost unraveled with a yank. The mattress dipped as he moved in behind me on his knees.
To drag the silk through my wet core.
Again, I flinched and tried to crawl away. My hair was seized.
He tutted and gathered the strands around his hand, tilting my head back. His gaze crashed into mine. The words were a caustic whisper in my ear. “You really shouldn’t have given me that.” He nipped my earlobe. “Never will I let you forget it.”
Then I was released.
I collapsed over the pillows, too exhausted to so much as think about cleaning myself. I pulled the twisted bedding over half of me, uncaring after all he’d seen.
The prince opened the nightstand drawer, then closed it three seconds later. He’d placed the scarf in there. I knew it in my weary bones.
Sleep had almost taken me when he snatched a pillow from behind me.
He muttered a myriad of wonderful curses as he settled upon the floor. “Don’t think it’s escaped my notice that you won twice just now.”
I smiled into the pillow covered in his scent, feeling safe enough to close my eyes. At least for tonight.