22. Krait
Chapter 22
Krait
I ’d begun to watch the Central Queen more since that night when Caym had slipped into her head.
I’d begun to pick up on her small idiosyncrasies. She held her hand to her neck when she grew nervous. She picked berries out of muffins to avoid eye contact when she wasn’t in the mood to talk. She rubbed at her wrists often—I couldn’t pinpoint the trigger for that.
She whistled quietly when she found a peaceful depth of sleep. The sound soothed me as I fell asleep on the other side of the room on that too-small cot.
I hadn’t asked about the dagger, but part of me wished she would confide in me. Every day, I woke before she did and left the bedchamber to afford her privacy.
This morning started like any other. After lighting the candles in the bell tower and scratching my head as I attempted to add marks to my running list against the Queen’s character, I headed down to my library.
Since she couldn’t read in Brennac, she’d taken to lying on the chaise, stomach down, and fiddling with the tassels of a pillow as I translated aloud. I knew she was listening because she stopped me to ask me questions or catch me if I slipped into Brennac.
Yesterday she had lain there with her legs kicking in the air behind her as I read sections that had set the hairs of my arms on edge.
“You must listen, Fifth Heir of Desidero. Find the Last Daughter of my dearest Isleen. She is the key to ending Death’s reign—the key to setting us all free,” I’d told her, and conveniently omitted some details. She’d accepted it as fact.
Eventually, I’d be ready to face her with the truth.
Our heir was destined to prevail against Caym.
Today we’d try something different than reading. After setting a game board down on a low table at the center of the library, I placed colored stones on it. Tugging two large cushions over to the table, I prepared for her arrival. Like clockwork, Sybilla would show up soon to let me read to her before we visited the amphitheater for physical training.
I knew she was capable of compulsion, but it wasn’t coming easily to her. She’d revealed through subtle details that as a child those around her had convinced her that her power was a weakness, something to conceal, something to be ashamed of.
“Good morning,” Sybilla chimed from the foot of the stairs, pulling me from my thoughts.
I hummed a response, hating to admit that the flutter of eagerness to see her.
Our second council meeting with the rulers of Henosis was scheduled for later that evening—concessions and decisions. Then tomorrow we were introducing Sybilla as an ally to my people.
“Ryn let you in?”
“I always let myself in,” Sybilla answered. “Ryn taught me your little passphrase.”
Impossible...
I narrowed my gaze as she stepped further into the library. The bruising on her neck was now a light purple and had nearly faded. She wore dark-green linen breeches and a white tunic, looking more casual than I’d seen her. Her curls were tied up atop her head with that stupid blue ribbon. She was barefoot, having kicked her slippers off at the bottom step.
“What are we reading today?” she asked as she stepped onto the library ladder and leaned far to the right, taking in the titles of the texts.
“No reading.” I sat down on one of the cushions cross-legged.
“What are we doing then?” She spun on the ladder, leaning against it and gripping the rung over her head to balance.
The sight made my mouth dry. I imagined her up there, just like that, only wearing far less clothing...
Enough.
It might not be the worst thing to find her attractive. It would certainly make parts of the prophecy less dreadful.
I cleared my throat. “We’re going to play a game.”
“That seems like a waste of time,” she said as she teetered precariously on the ladder rung. “How exactly will games help strengthen me against Caym?”
“If you come down from there, I’ll explain.”
She rolled her eyes but stepped down from the ladder. After seating herself across from me, she said, “Fine. Get on with it. How do we play?”
Sighing, I reminded myself to add:
IV. Impatient.
“It’s like checkers, but instead of pawns, there are five different colored stones. None of the pieces belong to either of us until you jump stones of the same color and collect them. You can jump multiple if empty space between them allows it. I’ll go first and show you.”
“Do you often go first ?” she asked me with one side of her mouth curving up.
I sighed, pushing away the mental image she’d conjured. I wanted badly to say “never” but she was baiting me with that lewd comment. Instead, I ground my teeth and reminded myself to add to the list:
V. Vulgar.
I focused on the board and made my first move. Blue jumped blue, leaving an opening for her to jump a green stone. She would probably miss the fact that moving that stone would allow me to jump two yellow stones. I collected my blue stones and waited for her to take the opportunistic move.
“Your turn,” I said.
She found the green and took the short-term gain as I’d expected.
VI. Shortsighted
Smirking, I jumped two yellow stones and collected all three of them.
“By the way, I’m good at this,” I noted.
“Clearly,” she huffed out. She looked tired again today—still breathtaking but the color had faded from her face. There were signs of a rash on her cheeks and chest. Her eyes didn’t hold the same fire they usually did.
“Focus on the game, and then when you’re feeling your most focused, try to reach out and get me to do something. Maybe you being in a different state of mind will help you to get past my mental shields.”
“What do you want me to make you do?” she asked skeptically.
That statement thrilled me in ways it shouldn’t have.
“You could make me get up and do a jig if you wanted to,” I grumbled.
“Oh the things I can think of...” She trailed off with wistful theatrics. “Why in the world would you want to teach me to control you?”
“Because despite what evil you think of me, I would prefer you survive your next encounter with the Death Origin,” I answered. “And I’d much rather you control my mind than he control me.”
“You are not so evil.” Her lips pursed as she concentrated on the board, leaning over it. The collar of her tunic dropped off one shoulder. My mouth went dry again. I dragged my eyes away from where the seam met the tops of her breasts and down to the board.
“You sound so sure.”
She’d lined up a triple jump of yellow and squealed as she hopped the stones. She made a dramatic show of pulling her winnings to her side of the table.
Served me well for getting distracted…
Her eyes met mine. “I am sure. You’re infuriating, but the people here respect you. You have kept them safe from Death, kept them fed and happy for centuries…You have friends. You cannot be so horrid if people choose to be in your company...”
She trailed off as she watched me jump two blue stones.
Air escaped her lips in a raspberry sound of frustration. I was beating her at this game, even after her small victory. Concentration furrowed her brow.
“I thought about what animal you would be.”
“Did you?” I drawled in a dull tone.
“You are not an animal at all…You’re a tree.”
I scoffed. “A tree?”
“Yes…unyielding, stuck in your ways and rooted in your beliefs.”
I lifted a brow.
When my gaze met hers again, she was smirking, and she continued, “But you’re also strong. Reliable. You’ve created a home here for people to nest. It is not so bad to be a tree.”
She looked back down at the board with a deep flush across her cheeks. That eager flutter in my stomach stirred again.
Then my hand rose against my will, and I slapped myself across the face. Hard.
The fuck?
I hadn’t felt a caress against my mind. I’d felt nothing. She’d gotten past my mental blockades.
She gasped as my mouth hung open in surprise.
“Oh, fuck! Krait, I’m so sorry—that was meant to be a much, much lighter tap! I swear it.”
Sybilla crawled around the table and leaned over me. Cupping my cheek in her palm, she knitted her brows together and her lips slightly parted. Her gentle touch against the stubble of my cheek smoothed away the sting.
A laugh rumbled in my chest.
“You sadistic prick. Why are you laughing ? I could have snapped your neck!” she exclaimed.
Dramatic.
Her shoulders collapsed forward, her head almost knocking into my chest.
“You made me slap myself,” I said. My cheeks hurt from the stretch of a smile that was wider than I’d worn in a long while. “I asked you to make me do something, and that’s what you chose?”
The rise and fall of her shoulders indicated she was fighting laughter, too. “I did,” she choked out through a laugh. “I’d do it again too.” When she lifted her head, our eyes met.
“Do you even understand how much my friends would pay to have been able to do that?”
Something shifted in her expression—softened. Her hand still caressed my cheek, which no longer held any sting, and her touch was intoxicating in a sobering way.
The humor of the moment faded as she held my gaze with a need that I tried my hardest not to match. Our noses were so close, and her hand dropped from my cheek to my chest.
She shifted and crawled over me. I fought a groan as she lowered onto my lap. Though the air had been light with humor moments before, it now felt heavy, with no reprieve from my lust.
I should have pushed her away.
Every instinct screamed at me to stop her. She didn’t have all of the pieces of the prophecy—to let her act was to take advantage of her.
I thought myself better than that.
Until her hand trailed up my chest to my neck and her gaze followed, seeming fascinated. As her fingers traveled over my pulse point, a shiver ran down my spine.
This was a good thing, wasn’t it? Let her desire me. Let her want more.
She leaned forward and replaced her fingers with her lips. Her mouth grazed my throat, traveling up to the sensitive spot just below my earlobe. Every fiber of my control begged to be snapped. “Fuck...” I whispered as my head fell to one side.
My hands stayed planted on the ground beside her knees, but my Shadows weren’t behaving. She sucked in a breath as they snaked around her waist and teased the skin on her lower back, climbing beneath her tunic.
My hips gained a mind of their own and ground upward to meet her warm, welcoming core. The sound of her gasping into my ear nearly undid me.
She moved, and her lips brushed against mine, open, alluring. I longed to taste them more, longed for a kiss less sweet and more exploratory.
“Enough,” I ground out between our breaths.
I could not let her carry on without knowing the full weight of Isolde’s prophecies.
At once, she seemed to surface from her desire, sliding down my knees. It might have once brought me some pride to have a woman this worked up without even having to take her clothes off—without even really kissing her. Now, it just made the empty feeling inside me grow.
“Shit,” she muttered before lifting herself up in one swift motion. “Shit, shit, shit.”
“Charming,” I groaned as I adjusted myself in my breeches.
“What the fuck was that?” she spat.
“I believe that was all you.”
“ All you, my ass—I felt those Shadows creeping up my shirt, you pig.” Her hand rose to meet her throat. “That was a lapse in judgment because it has been a while, and you were being nice to me and…and...it won’t happen again.”
“What, missing your Sun King? Ready to fill that empty feeling with something meaningless?” Those words weren’t for her though—they were for me. I kept digging a hole for myself and said, “What is it that you learned from that dagger, Sybilla? Is he not still your devout lover?”
What did I even care? And why was that symbol still tickling something in the back of mind?
“Fuck you,” she growled. She rose and crossed the room to pull on her slippers. “If I want pleasure, then you are the last person I should consider.”
Her actions hadn’t matched those words. Yet still, it stung, which made me even more pissed.
“It seems you’ve considered me plenty. You were all too quick to scheme up a marriage of convenience when it suited you.”
She huffed, fists clenched and cheeks pink, then stormed away with a growl of frustration.
Maybe I truly was the sadistic prick she thought me to be because she looked all too alluring when angry. As the door slammed shut, I cursed beneath my breath and fell backward against the cool tile.
Feeling guilt had no part in my plans.