Eleven
Raina
The aroma of roasted herbs filled the air as we all gathered around the dining table, a rare occasion for me. I was glad we were in the royal family’s wing and not in the main dining hall. Too many painful memories lingered in that space.
However, I was making some new, not very pleasant impressions, in this chamber. Primarily, the discomfort of Lorne's gaze lingering on my face much longer than usual, his grey eyes intense and unreadable.
I suspected he might carry the self-induced guilt he felt over what happened in the cottage for a while longer. I wished I could do more to relieve him of his misplaced culpability.
Liam and I were leaving for Ephandor tomorrow morning and I hoped distance would help lessen that angst for Lorne. I took another long pull from the wine goblet, tucking away my concern.
The conversations around the table flowed easily. Soon, Aeryn's curiosity about Ephandor and Liam's family sparked a series of questions.
"Tell me more about Ephandor, Liam," Aeryn urged, her pale green eyes filled with interest.
Liam obliged, describing the lush landscapes, forestry, and hills that surrounded the place he’d grown up. As he spoke, I picked up on the subtle undertone of his longing for home.
I caught Lorne staring at me from across the table, his gaze heavy and deliberate. He’d been doing it the entire meal.
It didn’t seem as though he was feeling guilty tonight. He looked much more intent on communicating his thoughts, but I couldn’t be sure exactly what he meant.
Then he winked at me. An unexpected titter shook my shoulders at the idiot’s antics.
Liam's voice grew tense and short, and I glanced over at his sudden shift in mood.
"Are you alright, Liam?" Lorne asked with a meaningful look.
"I’m fine," he replied curtly, turning his attention back to his plate.
As the dinner continued, I found myself periodically stealing glances at Liam, trying to decipher the reason behind his darkening mood. But he steadfastly kept his attention on his food and, especially, on his drink.
The clinking of silverware on plates became the dominant sound. Low murmurs of conversation continued, yet there was a certain edginess in the air after that odd exchange.
Neither male had spoken since.
As I took a bite of the roasted pheasant, I noticed Lorne's stare still fixated on me, his eyes conveying an intensity that sent shivers down my spine. I was about to call him out on it when the male beside me spoke.
"Raina," Liam said my name abruptly, drawing everyone's attention to him. "It’s been a long time since you’ve visited the clan.”
My fork hovered just above the piece of meat it was about to spear. “It has.”
“Father is looking forward to the visit.”
I found that hard to believe. Unless he was looking forward to torturing me. He’d never harm me, but Brahm was an archaic sort of berserker who thought most problems could be solved physically.
“And Gunnar is still single, you know,” he offered in a casual tone. “Maybe while you’re in Ephandor, you'll find my brother a worthy prospect. You seem to like the big and broody type these days."
“The fuck?” Mirrelle hissed, yet everyone else seemed to be shocked into silence.
His words felt like ice shards tearing through my flesh. I clenched my fork so tightly that I could feel the cold metal digging into my palm. The blood rushing through my ears drowned out all sound.
I swallowed hard, trying to compose myself. "I don't think that’s an appropriate thing to say," I replied quietly.
"Why not?" he pressed, a taunting smirk playing on his lips. "He's a strong and capable male, next in line to rule."
Was he truly suggesting that I should, what? Pursue Gunnar? Bed him? What was Liam playing at? And why did it bother me so much?
“Is my brother not high enough in the ranks for your tastes?”
“Liam,” Nox’s deep voice rolled like thunder across the table.
“That’s right,” Liam snapped his fingers. “It’s the royal family that’s caught your eye.”
Mirrelle jumped to her feet, her chair flying backwards, pointing her butter knife at him. “You’re dead.”
The table erupted.
"Excuse me.” I got up, sure no one had heard me over the shouting.
My heart pounded in my chest as I stormed out of the dining room. I could hear my friends yelling insults at him, but I didn't care. All I wanted was to escape the suffocating atmosphere and find solace in the privacy of my temporary bed chamber.
I barely had time to catch my breath before Liam barged into the room, slamming the door shut behind him. Who did he think he was?
"What is wrong with you?" I yelled, my voice shaking with fury. "Why would you even suggest such a thing?"
"Because I saw the way Lorne was looking at you!" he snapped, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. "And you were giggling like some smitten teenager!"
"What?!” I screeched. “Is that what this is about? You’re jealous over some imaginary scenario you’ve created in your head? I wasn't aware that sharing a laugh with someone over dinner was a crime."
"Maybe not," he growled, taking a step closer. "But I saw the way you reacted to him. Do you know what that makes you look like?”
The implication stung, but I refused to let him see how much his words affected me.
"Maybe I was just enjoying myself," I goaded, jumping headfirst into dangerous waters. "For once, trying to forget, coping just the way you did."
If I thought his eyes were fiery before, they were an inferno now. Dark oranges and golds swirled the way they used to when he was deep inside me.
"Is that all it takes for you to forget?" he challenged. "A few laughs and a suggestive wink from Lorne? I didn’t realize you were that easy."
"Better than letting the past consume me while I wallow in self-pity and bitterness, taking it out on everyone around me," I snapped, the unspoken words hanging heavy in the air between us. Like you.
His chest heaved, breathing like a raging bull. He was losing it.
So are you, my psyche insisted.
"You have no right to be jealous, Liam. I’m not yours anymore, remember?"
"How could I ever fucking forget!" he shouted, stepping closer until our faces were mere inches apart. "But that doesn't mean I want to witness you throw yourself at every male who shows you the slightest bit of attention!"
"Throw myself at them? That’s rich,” I scoffed. “You have zero room to talk, Liam. I had to watch you at every function, with your slew of females fawning all over you. You’d wait to make sure I was looking before you stole a kiss or nipped their throats like you might mark them. At the Lunar Ball, you escorted one of them inside the bathroom and fucked her against the counter while I was in the stall, making sure I heard you bring her pleasure and then find your own.”
The memory was so jagged I choked on it. “What kind of male does that?”
He didn’t answer. Instead he tried to turn it back on me. “And how many did you let between your legs, hmm, flower?”
“Do not call me that.” The endearment was no longer his to use.
“Why not? Did you open those sweet petals for someone else? How many of them tasted that nectar?”
“Fuck. You.”
“Tell me!” he demanded.
“I’m a fucking pariah, Liam! No male would deign to show me an ounce of attention after what my parents did. Ever since they paid your family to get out of the contract, not one has ever looked my way. After what they did to Nox and his father? Most wouldn’t be caught dead even speaking to me. Or haven’t you heard? I’m damaged goods. Can’t be trusted, much less fucked.”
Unable to hold them back, tears spilled over and down my face. “I’m no one’s flower. Frost whore is what they call me. A two-faced mukana who only cares about herself,” I tacked on, quoting him verbatim from that gods-awful day.
Liam flinched, ever so slightly, and for a moment I thought he might apologize. But I was a fool. Always a fool when it came to him.
“I thought we were in a better place, Liam. That we could at least be cordial. But it seems like all you can do is belittle me at every turn. I don’t understand why you even bothered to save me. If I’m such a black-hearted opportunist, you should have left me to my fate. I doubt it would hurt half as much as this."
Liam inhaled, and his gaze dropped to my lips before rising back to meet my eyes. The air between us crackled and sparked, a single touch would ignite the room into flames.
"Get out," I seethed. "I don't want to see your face again. I’ll find somewhere else to go. I’ll sail to the other side of the world if I have to."
White hot fury radiated from Liam’s pores like heat from a fire, and yet, there was something else lurking beneath the surface, something more frightening than his ire.
His berserker.
The atmosphere around us began to shift. The anger and frustration that had fueled our heated exchange now blurred with a growing undercurrent of desire.
"Raina," he whispered, his voice rough with a raw emotion.
"Why, Liam? I understand most fae treat sex like it’s nothing. And I understood that you were no longer mine but that night of the ball … how could you?" My voice was barely audible as I struggled to contain the swell of emotions threatening to overwhelm me.
I’d never told anyone, had never planned to mention the incident that occurred just weeks after he’d hurled that box at me. I’d purposefully done my best to bury the traumatic memory.
It had stayed buried until recently, until it decided to rear its head over and over like it was a corporeal specter that wanted to break me.
"Because I'm a fucking idiot," Liam admitted, his face hovering just above mine. "Though, I didn’t even realize you were inside at first. I thought you ran off, tired of watching my antics.”
“And once you caught my scent?”
Liam took a deep breath. “I wanted you to hurt as much as I was hurting despite believing it would have no effect on you at all. You never looked like any of it bothered you. I lost my damned mind over it."
I hadn’t expected the admission and more tears fell. It made me feel weak and I detested it because I knew I wasn’t.
He pressed his mouth into a flat line as his eyes trailed the wet lines streaking down my face. The moment stretched forever.
I licked the salty wetness from my lips, freezing when his pupils dilated further and those captivating irises began to glow.
With a feral growl, Liam closed the remaining distance between us. Our lips clashed in a heated kiss, tongues tangling and exploring as he devoured me hungrily.
All rational thought vanished. We clung to each other like we’d found salvation, giving into the lust that had been simmering beneath the surface for far too long.
Liam's grip on my waist tightened, and I braced myself for the storm of emotion that was about to engulf us both. His lips devoured mine with a wild, libidinous fervor that left me breathless and aching for more.
His fingers dug into my hips as he hoisted me up and pinned me against the wall. My legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, our bodies fitting together like two pieces of a long-lost puzzle.
Liam tore at my shirt with a ferocity that left my chest exposed, vulnerable to the cool air lashing at my skin. My body trembled.
Teeth clamped onto my breast and I whimpered from the sting. Then his tongue laved and soothed the bruising skin as strong hands fisted the fabric of the back of my pants and tore them down the middle.
I fumbled with his belt and he knocked my hands away. I plunged them into his hair while he freed his hardened length.
“Hurry,” I demanded.
His breath was hot and ragged as he positioned himself at my entrance, and my breath hitched in anticipation. In one swift, powerful thrust, he buried himself deep inside, tearing a moan from my throat.
“Gods, Raina,” he cursed roughly. “You’re so fucking tight.”
My nails dug into his back as our hips rocked together in a frenzied rhythm. My inner muscles clutched him, coaxing him deeper.
“More!” I panted.
Liam growled and obliged with a sexual ferocity he’d never shown me before. His thrusts were brutal, claiming me as his own as if the moment would be our last together. And maybe it would be.
His fingers dug painfully into my backside. I welcomed the pain, yearning for more, needing to feel something besides the everpresent hollow ache in my chest.
I arched my back, inviting him to take me deeper still and he did so without hesitation. It was raw and intense, fueled by years of pent-up emotions.
Rain pelted the window panes, mirroring the frenetic pace of our lovemaking. The violent clash of our bodies against the wall was almost as deafening as the thunderous roar of my heart.
The climax hit like a tsunami, washing over me in waves as my muscles clenched around him. Liam stiffened, throwing back his head as he roared my name like some primitive beast, before collapsing into me, spent.
His sweat-soaked body pressed against mine. I knew this was the connection I’d been missing for so long. This was what I’d been yearning for.
Sometime over the last two years I wished I’d never known it, had never felt it with Liam. Having such intimacy taken away after experiencing something so life-altering had been a torture of its own.
He panted against my neck and I tightened my arms around him. For a moment, I let myself believe this meant something more than just years of bottled lust and pent up frustration.
As our breathing slowed and reality began to seep back in, my mind whirled with things I wanted to deny but couldn't suppress any longer.
Cupping his cheek, I lifted to press my lips to his. The kiss was soft and lingering, filled with all the love I’d kept inside for so long.
Liam responded at first, but then pulled away, his eyes averted as he withdrew from my body and set me back on my feet.
Feeling suddenly exposed and vulnerable, I picked up what was left of my tunic and used it to cover myself as best I could. I leaned against the wall, trying to make sense of what had just happened.
I watched as Liam tucked himself back into his pants, a mixture of regret and frustration etched on his face.
"We shouldn’t have … like this … it was a mistake," he babbled, shaking his head and taking another step away from me.
"A mistake," I repeated, voice raspy from our exertions. “That’s what I am to you, isn’t it? What I’ll always be. Nothing more than a mistake from your past. One you’ll barely tolerate, but only because of your future queen’s friendship with me.”
"Raina,” he began, running a hand through his messy hair. “If Nox hadn’t brought Aeryn to Thornewood for the bride trials, you would have likely been the winner.”
“He would never have married me and you know it. You’re a brother to him.”
“Did you know that before you arrived? That there was no possible way he would choose you?”
As a frost nymph, one of many kinds of fae, only the truth could pass my lips. “I believed it highly unlikely.”
Liam sniffed. “Yet you entered the trials.”
My mouth tightened. “Did you hit your head?”
“What?”
“You must have because you seem to have forgotten the names were drawn. I didn’t choose to enter anything. I was chosen when my name was pulled from that bucket.”
“You were the only eligible female in that province, Raina. There was only one name in there.”
He sounded pissed-off again. He was such an asshole!
“And that’s my fault, how?”
“You went willingly! Didn’t hesitate for a second!”
It hit me then, like a ton of bricks falling from the sky. This would always be the thing between us, the septic wound from which there was no recovery.
Liam would always believe I didn’t want to fight for us. He’d never allow me to show him what he’d meant to me, how broken I’d been when it ended, not when I hadn’t attempted to go against my family.
For that, I would always blame myself.
“And then tonight …" he hesitated, swallowing hard. "Seeing how much you enjoyed Lorne’s attention. It’s making me think that maybe my comment about Gunnar wasn't so out of line."
His words settled over me like a blanket of snow, numbing my heart and tunneling into the very marrow of my bones.
I may have made an egregious error in judgment by loving my parents simply because they were my parents, and choosing the family I so desperately wanted to love me back, but I was done being his punching bag.
“Let me see if I have this right. You expect me to treat other males with cool indifference because you cannot control your reaction to the jealousy it makes you feel. And if I don’t, I can expect to not only be slandered and shamed, I can expect a visit so you can fuck me like the whore you think I am.”
His jaw ticked. “Of course not."
"Then why did you do this?" I gestured between us, weirdly calm. "Why did you let this happen if you’re so sure I’d be just as happy to have the attentions of another?"
"Because I couldn't help myself," he conceded baldly. "Because every time I see you, I remember what we had, and I can't help wanting it back. Even if I know it's wrong to reach for it. And it wasn’t like you were trying to stop me."
More of the numbness spread through me, as if my frosty magic were leeching into every cell and easing my misery. I found it far preferable to feeling.
I embraced it. Held it tight and anchored it to my soul.
I fixed him with a cold, hard stare. “Then we are both fools. I, for one, will never be the fool again.”
I would never let myself be vulnerable to him again. I would be numb inside forever if I must, but at least I'd be safe from the heartache.
Liam stared at me for a long moment, searching my eyes for something. Whatever it was, I knew the second he found it.
"Raina, I–" He broke off, shattering the silence like glass.
Neither of us spoke. Not interested in prodding him, I let him work through it.
And then, finally, he nodded. "I understand.”
With that, he turned and left, closing the door quietly behind him.
I wondered what he would do if I called him back. Not that I would.
I was currently a prisoner within my own body, deadened to everything but the icy emptiness inside me. I assumed it wouldn’t last, but that was alright.
I was thankful for the reprieve from carrying the weight of lost love and toeing the thin line between love and hate. I would need the rest that this soul-deep exhaustion would give me tonight.
Because I had a feeling tomorrow was going to be harder than I ever imagined—and not wholly because of Liam.