Chapter 30 #2
“You don’t know your own power, do you? You’ve been sending me dreams, spectre. Filthy fucking dreams which make it very hard for me to keep to the vow I made you.”
“Then don’t,” I hissed between my teeth, my fingers finding his solid cock through his trousers and caressing it with need. If he’d been sharing in my dreams then he knew how much I ached for him, so why was he so insistent upon denying me?
“I will,” he replied, taking his fingers out of me so that he could catch my hand and stop my exploration of his dick.
He grinned at me in the dim light as I fought against a whimper and he raised my arm so that it could join with the other, pinned above my head in one of his hands.
“You’re still not ready for me, love. But I won’t let you suffer while I wait for you. ”
My spine arched against the wall as he took his sweet time running his hand back down my arm, along my jaw, down my neck, over my breast, my navel, the bunched fabric of my skirt, until–
“Fuck,” I hissed as he pushed three fingers into me with aching slowness, his thumb finding my clit while he stretched me wide.
Bastian dropped his mouth to my throat, licking, kissing, his stubble a rough delight on my sensitive skin while his fingers fought each other for the right to be the one to destroy me.
My whole body was trembling with need, desire rushing from me so potently I knew the Fae in the ballroom would feel it. There would be a fucking orgy breaking out by the time we returned if I wasn’t careful but- fucking hell.
I bucked against him, surging forward as he rubbed my clit in rough circles, the friction of his callouses bringing me to ruin far too quickly and yet not fast enough.
A cry built in my throat and I turned my head, giving in to what he’d demanded of me, my teeth sinking into his shoulder, my cry of pleasure buried against his skin.
I came in a flood of pleasure, my cunt clamping tight around his fingers, his wicked growl of triumph at my destruction making the ecstasy surge on for longer.
Bastian withdrew his fingers and I sagged against the wall, a heady smile on my lips which he kissed right off of them.
“Feel better?” he asked, releasing his hold on my wrists and gently tugging my undergarments back into place. They were soaked in my pleasure and would no doubt be a reminder of him throughout this entire meal and beyond.
“So you plan on luring me into dark corners and simply–”
My words cut off as a horrified shriek filled the air and we both jerked around to look back towards the ballroom.
More cries rang out, panic echoing from the walls and I shoved Bastian back a step before breaking into a run and sprinting towards the sounds of alarm.
Power buzzed around me, a shield of air magic springing from my fingertips to cover both Bastian and myself just as we burst from the concealed passageway and into the room filled with panicking courtiers.
“The king!” someone wailed and I used a blast of magic to force a path through the crowd so that I could approach the royal table where King Aquila lay slumped over the disturbed cutlery.
His arm was outstretched and a long, thin box was clasped in his weathered fist.
A Reaper was hunting for a pulse but I could tell with one sweep of my gifts that he wouldn’t find one. The king held no desires in his heart anymore for me to take a taste of but the echo of his final wish lingered like a foul taste in the air.
My eyes fell to the box in his grasp. His choice lay within that carved wooden trinket, only to be revealed upon his death…
Bastian moved close behind me, the heat of him enveloping me as he pressed my dagger against my side in offering. I’d forgotten I’d even dropped the damn thing and my fingers curled around it gratefully.
My gaze flicked to Prince Dragor who stood at the end of the royal table, his eyes burning into me despite the scene which was unfolding before us.
I turned my focus back to the dead king, inching away from Bastian but holding my ground while many courtiers began to back up, edging toward the exit. They wanted to hear which of the king’s children had been chosen for his heir – but they wanted to flee before the fallout of that decision struck.
Evard appeared through the crowd, striding towards the royal table just as Roarson moved to pluck the box from his father’s dead hand.
On instinct I caught my husband’s arm before he could pass me, jerking him to a halt and expanding the protection of my air shield so that it included him.
“What are you–” he began, tugging to free his arm but I only dug my fingernails in to hold him in place.
“Wait,” I hissed in warning.
“This cannot be serious!” Roarson bellowed and my gaze snapped to the small scroll he’d taken from the box. Clearly the king hadn’t selected him.
Dragor smiled darkly, moving to pluck the scroll from his brother’s fist but Laurena got there first, a wild laugh escaping her as she read the name upon it and thrust the scrap of curling parchment aloft.
“The king is dead,” she cried. “Long live the queen!”
The crowd broke out into excited chatter, some dropping to their knees and calling out praise to the new queen, others cursing and fighting to race for the exit.
“Laurena?” Evard growled, yanking on his arm in an attempt to free it from my hold but I snarled at him and tightened the air shield that surrounded us so that he couldn’t pass through it.
“My first decree–” Laurena’s gaze narrowed on me but whatever vile proclamation she’d been planning ended before it could so much as grace her lips, the bloody length of a sword appearing through her chest as Dragor struck like a viper from the grass.
Screams filled the air, the courtiers either ran or drew blades, battle breaking out as Roarson commanded his supporters into action to fight for the crown on his behalf.
Dragor’s warriors met them with sharpened steel and the clang of metal colliding echoed from the vaulted ceiling with horrendous sharpness.
“We need to leave,” I commanded Evard, shoving him around and forcing him toward the door.
“I need to fight for my–”
I punched him in the jaw to shake the bloodlust from his gaze. “Your brothers are better warriors than you,” I snarled. “But you are the better tactician. So tell me – what move should you make in this battle if you wish to see another day?”
Dragor bellowed a command for Bastian to join the fighting and I cursed as I shoved Evard away from my terrifying lover mere moments before he shifted, his oath to the prince compelling him into action.
Fae screamed louder as Dragon fire billowed above their heads, the statue of Gemini cracking down one side as Bastian’s tail struck it.
“Retreat,” Evard spat. “And let these two battle themselves towards death.”
“Good,” I hissed, my shield rattling as some bastard threw his magic at us in attempt to strike me or Evard from the game. “Then stay behind me and run when I tell you to run.”
Evard cursed but did as I’d commanded, letting me take the lead so that I could carve us a bloody path to the exit before Dragor could turn his wrath and ambition upon us next.
Blood flew, Fae died, a Dragon bellowed fire throughout the ballroom and through the midst of it all, I cut a blood-drenched retreat for the man I’d never wanted for a husband. Because my fate had become bound to his. For better or worse.