Chapter 11
Sulfur dissipated behind me as my portal closed.
I stood in the chamber without seeing the bed or chair or wardrobe of dresses that reminded me of my obligations to attend whatever festivities would soon begin. I wanted to vomit at the thought of sitting through hours of that.
What I really wanted was another shower, though I’d just washed in the river on the way back from my grandfather and Adeuto. But if I did shower, then I would really just stand in the water and stare at the clusters of rubies encased in the marble. As I had for the hour before portaling to my son.
No amount of water could wash away the revulsion I felt toward myself.
The lust had never been that strong. There had always been some level of awareness through it, even in Carmine’s presence.
But that.
Yesterday, barely a speck of me had existed in that state, and I’d done something that I’d sworn to never do again—I’d sought pleasure from Carmine.
The Carmine I had so firmly told would never experience the pleasures of my body again.
And I did that. Unfortunately, my unconsciousness hadn’t eliminated those details.
I’d moved against his cock, and I could distinctly recollect that he hadn’t moved at all in response.
I’d despaired about the fabric between us as I chased my climax, and he’d pressed his forehead to the wall instead of kissing my mouth or tearing off my clothes.
I’d kissed his neck.
I’d clung to him.
I had done all those things that I had sworn to never do.
My shoulders shook from the shame filling me. One week had undone three years, and I couldn’t even be furious with him for what happened. I could be furious at our mating, but really? The trust I held for myself had taken a hit.
I was a mess.
And I felt uncertain when I’d thought that wasn’t possible any longer.
Why had that happened all of a sudden? Without knowing why, then how could I be sure lust wouldn’t hijack me again and again?
That uncertainty was a plague of its own.
My only theory centered around the draining of my magic to near depletion.
Did my power counter the lust somehow? After the first round of Tiers, lust had afflicted me, too, but I had chalked that up to seeing Carmine again for the first time in so long.
And the lust wasn’t anywhere near the same mindlessness as last night.
Then again, I hadn’t expended nearly as much power in the arena in the first week.
“Fuck,” I whispered.
If that was true, then returning to the game for the last two rounds carried even more potential consequences. I couldn’t open that door to lust any further. I had to be capable of closing it again.
I yanked a dress out of the wardrobe at random. Tearing off my clothes, I pulled on the dress. It was a tangle of ribbons, but I welcomed the challenge to focus my mind, as I drew in each one in the various sections over my hips, thighs, and shoulders.
Mother be, what was this thing?
My dress didn’t matter. What mattered, as ever, was Adeuto.
Calm flooded me—a peace that had remained out of reach even when I’d held him close twenty minutes ago. Adeuto mattered. Winning the game to free my twin mattered.
Popping up on Carmine’s radar was always going to come with complications. I had learned something new about the connection between my power and the mating ritual that I hadn’t known before.
Now I knew.
But no matter what, if I set foot in the arena, and survived the arena for two more weeks, then the end result was the same. Adeuto might live. Even if my dignity wouldn’t survive intact.
In fact, seducing Carmine may even help ease my treacherous path.
I looked into the mirror and blanched.
Strategic sections of crimson ribbon trussed me up like a roast. The ribbons swept up and around my calves, thighs, and hips, but left my battle-hardened stomach bare but for the single ribbon extending upward to join the ribbons over my breasts.
I could see my nipples. Wincing, I adjusted the ribbons. When that failed, I strode to the wardrobe and sliced two circles of crimson fabric from another dress.
My eyes narrowed. He’d switched all my dresses to the color of his scales. That was new.
I shoved the circles of fabric under the ribbons and dragged them into place, then settled the ribbons over the top. There. Nipples disguised.
The rest of my body… not so much.
I spun to get a glimpse of the back of the dress, then squeezed my eyes shut against what was essentially a ribbon thong with a few hanging decorations over my ass.
This dress was not me.
But screw it. My pride had taken a huge hit yesterday, and I was in the mood to defy myself as well as every demon in this fucking fortress.
I pulled my hair into a bun atop my head and eased a few strands out to fall around my face. Done.
I murmured, “Just get through the night, Syera. Crumble into a fucking ball later.”
I shoved my feet into the ridiculous, towering, crimson heels, then strode out into the hall. Carmine wasn’t here to collect me, and I preferred the alone time to stomp out some of my fury.
At least tonight was a play—one of my most preferred royal festivities, in that I could just be bored in peace. Sure, the play was more like demon porn, but I hadn’t minded that back when Carmine and I were together.
I wrenched to a halt. Shit.
I was about to watch demon porn with Carmine.
My heart rate picked up, because my power was recovering quickly—insanely fast, really, which I had begrudgingly attributed to the fact that I had taken pleasure from my mate-intended.
But was my power recovered enough that I wouldn’t be hijacked by lust again?
“You’re late.”
I glanced back at Gratia. “Wardrobe malfunction.”
Gratia circled in front of me. “I’d say that’s the point.”
For it to malfunction? I expected she was right.
She gestured to the doors at the end of the hall. Sounds of the royals within trickled out. “Shall we?”
I lifted a shoulder, then felt her gaze on me as we walked side by side.
“You missed our meeting this morning,” she purred.
What meeting? Oh. “I was recovering.”
She lifted a shoulder in response. Not my problem.
True enough. “Tomorrow morning.” It really was in my interest to learn the ropes of how the royals were handled.
“I can make that work. But you used up another one.” She opened a door.
I frowned. “Another one of what?”
“One of your five favors from me. You have three left.”
We were really doing that? I entered in front of her. “Whatever.”
“And Syera?” Gratia had stopped by a group close to the door.
I grunted.
She smirked. “That trick with the purple was a work of art.”
I was a woman in need of a reminder she was badass tonight. A genuine smile graced my face. “One of my grandmother’s.”
The demon princess’s brows rose. “Your human grandmother?”
I rolled my eyes. “No, Gratia. My magus grandmother.”
“Same thing.” Her red eyes twinkled with humor.
She’d called my portaling into a demon trick a work of art, so I’d forgive her this once.
I set off in the direction of the thrones set in the back row of the stage seating. Huge crimson curtains hid the stage, and most were already in their seats.
My path forward was blocked.
“You killed my cousin,” Tygrio greeted.
I tilted my head. “She wasn’t prepared for battle.”
He was contemplative while searching my face. “How did you make a double of yourself? You fooled everyone. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“Would you like step-by-step instructions, Tygrio?” I asked.
The demon grinned. “Perhaps I don’t expect you to divulge the details.”
I walked forward, and he settled into step beside me.
“I didn’t expect you to still be alive,” I murmured.
“In some ways, neither did I.”
I cocked a brow his way. He was chasing death by taunting Carmine like this. “You may not be alive tomorrow, so I’ll take this chance to thank you for your advice about your cousin’s favorite tactic.”
He bowed his head. “Even with the warning, you fought with unrivaled grace, speed, and beauty.”
My lips twitched. “Good evening, Tygrio. Enjoy the play.”
The crimson hummed. “I shall… Syera.”
I hadn’t managed to be rid of my smile before I sat next to Carmine. At least Tygrio had served as a distraction. So much so that I’d forgotten my feelings of shame and dread until sitting here.
Carmine’s hand curled into a fist on his armrest. “What do you suppose I should do to a male who brings a lingering smile to the face of my mate?”
Mate-intended.
The action was painful, but I forced my gaze to Carmine’s. “A boy who brings a smile to my face, Carmine.”
Tygrio was just a boy. I’d destroy him in a week. He was meant for a normal female demon.
Carmine didn’t answer. His focus drifted over the ribbons around my upper arms and boobs, then lower.
I didn’t care, because there was only the usual presence of lust in me tonight. The mindless lust was nowhere to be felt. My shoulders relaxed. I wouldn’t make a fool of myself again. Tonight, anyway.
His tone was bored and icy. “You have regained control then.”
I didn’t react to the barb. “Disappointed?”
“Yes, though not in the way you suppose. I’m disappointed you cracked so easily. All your declarations had raised my hopes on the matter for a long chase. The hunt was a bore.”
Ouch. That was salt in every one of my wounds. Shame filled me, but I tucked it away for later. If I was to feel shame, then that shame was mine alone. Not his to wield as a weapon.
“That must be why things were so one-sided,” I said on a sigh. “I’d expected more of you. Disappointment sums up my feelings too.”
He pulled his attention from the stage to me. “Do you suppose that I wanted you writhing over my cock, demon? Do you suppose I wanted to give you any pleasure after what you’ve done to me?”
A new brand of shame trickled through me. That was unexpected. “If you didn’t want any part of that, then I am very sorry.”
In both the human and demon senses of the word.
“Why didn’t you just leave?” I asked him.