Chapter 13 #2
I’m too overwhelmed to fight him, too stunned to react, and I close my eyes, reveling in his touch. His fingers move to my face, my lips, then back to my hair until they’re tangled on the nape of my neck, pulling me closer.
I should resist.
I’m tired of resisting.
His lips touch mine, and my hands find his chest—to push him away, I think, except that my fingers curl into the fabric of his jacket.
My mouth opens against his, and I feel the warmth of his tongue and the faint sweetness of the wine still on his lips. Meanwhile, his arms find my waist and pull me in, so close, the feeling so comforting, soothing, like when he held me in that cave.
The truth is that I’ve wanted this touch since that moment, perhaps since I first laid eyes on him.
Perhaps it’s too soon, but there’s no coming back from this.
We can’t unkiss and pretend nothing happened.
I can’t pretend I don’t feel anything for him.
Not anymore, no. The time for lies and self-delusion is gone, and I yield to that desire, that ravenous part of me wanting and wanting—wanting Alayel.
His mouth grows hungrier as he walks me backward until my knees hit the edge of his bed, until the world tilts and I find myself lying on his soft covers, the weight of him pressing me down.
Something inside me warms and uncoils, something wild, finally set free. Why should I resist him? Why should I deprive myself of this moment, of this pleasure?
It’s like he senses the shift in me, as a smirk forms on the corner of his mouth and he devours me with his eyes. I want to be devoured. In fact, I want to be fucked.
His smirk sharpens as his fingers hook into the neckline of my dress and yank—hard, tearing the side seams. My brassiere is exposed, but not for long, as he pulls it down, revealing my breasts.
He pauses for a moment, taking me in, his ravenous eyes drinking every inch of my exposed skin, until he palms my breasts. Then his mouth is there, his tongue caressing my nipple, creating a trail of heat from his lips to my core.
I’m lost in the warmth of it—until I’m not here at all.
I’m on the island, and it’s not his tongue but something vast and strange and magical that drags slowly over my breasts with a soothing, healing touch, awakening a fire in my lower belly.
Then I’m in the hallway, the rider on top of me, his hands holding my wrists, but the fire in his eyes is not hate, but desire. His chest presses against mine, and I realize I’m naked, basking in the feel of his chest against my nipples, his hips between my legs.
His what?
I surface back on Alayel’s bed, my body trembling, horrified at my thoughts, at myself, at the way those memories became distorted and strange.
“Something wrong?” There’s concern in Alayel’s voice and worry in his eyes.
If he knew what has just crossed my mind, he’d be a thousand times more concerned.
But then Alayel’s words come to me, smug and pretentious: I want you naked in my bed, legs spread for me.
The memory is like a bucket of water hitting me, breaking a spell.
His hands grasping my breasts feel wrong, so I push them away and sit up. “Sorry. I… It was a tough day.”
He caresses my hair. “I know. And it’s fine. We don’t have to do anything. I got too carried away and I’m sorry.”
The earnestness in his voice makes me regret pushing him. “It’s not your fault. I’m just… still in shock.”
He takes my hand and kisses it. “It’s understandable. You almost died.”
I didn’t, though. The rider said he wasn’t going to kill me, but it’s true that I could have gotten seriously hurt.
“Yes…” I pull up the dress, but I think Alayel ripped it too much, and it’s loose on my chest, so I have to hold it with my hand. “I need to rest.”
He kisses my cheek. “You deserve rest after your extraordinary feat today, but you deserve a queen’s bed. Stay here.”
“Commander Mallor said someone would summon me tomorrow morning. I’d rather be in my room.”
He sits on his bed again, lazily leaning back, as if in an invitation. “If you change your mind, you know the way.”
He’s so insanely handsome that I almost consider staying and letting him finish ripping this dress off of me. I’d lie naked on his bed, legs spread for him, welcoming and willing, my core wet and hungry for his cock. I could even scream Your Highness.
But something stops me.
Perhaps it’s realizing I might have had too much wine, or that I’m still shaken by the encounter with the rider. Maybe I want to make this decision when I know I won’t regret it.
My chest feels light as I step out of his room and into the hallway. Maybe it’s because of this loose dress that I have to hold up with one hand.
I forgot to ask what happened at his ball—if it was disbanded, and if there was any panic.
A strange sense of relief washes over me as I get to my room. Maybe it’s knowing that I’m about to be alone again, or that I’ll be in the little corner of this castle that’s mine.
I sit on my bed and let the dress fall off my body like it might have fallen had I remained with Alayel. My mind’s too confused about him.
No movement this time, no Ava, and a wave of sadness comes to me. They’ll probably move the hatchlings, and I might never see them again. Perhaps one day, when they’re grown, flying freely in our skies, I’ll glimpse them from a distance. Still, the thought of being separated from them aches.
I step out of the dress, place it on a chair, then pull on my sleeping clothes, but a movement catches my eye. I turn—and freeze.
It can’t be. I’m shocked, and yet, strangely, not surprised at the same time.
Little Ava is on my bed, small blue scales on her skin, contrasting with the white sheets.
How did she get here?
I sit on my bed and pull Ava onto my lap. She lets out a soft coo and wiggles in my arms, as if to find a nicer position.
Was there even enough time for someone to bring her from the nursery? And who? Why? I know for certain that it wasn’t Alayel, but I can’t understand who else would have brought her here.
After the attack, I’m sure that their room will be moved to a safer location. How am I going to find it? And reunite her with her brother?
“Who brought you?” I whisper.
Ava tilts her head and caresses my arm with her snout.
“Cute little one, I like that you’re here, but I don’t want your brother to be alone.”
She squeaks twice, so loud that I fear someone could hear her in the hallway, and I shush her.
“Quiet. It’s best if nobody hears you.” I place her back on the bed. “Wait just a minute, will you?”
I get up and put on the gray uniform of the cleaning crew, then turn to Ava. “I’ll be right back.”
She stares at me with her cute little eyes and blinks, making me feel guilty for leaving, even for a moment, but I have to do this.
There’s a supply room on this floor, and I hope it’s not closed at this hour. But then, it’s around seven or so at night, even if the early ball and the attack and my moments with Alayel makes it seem that it’s much later.
A woman sits behind the wooden counter, crocheting a scarf, her fingers moving the hook fast. For a moment, I’m watching my mother. A pleasant memory bubbling up despite everything.
“Hello?” I ask.
The woman gets up and puts the scarf aside. “How can I help you?”
I ask for a basket, but they have none, and I decide to take a bucket. With rushed steps, I carry it back to my room.
When I close the door behind me, I look around—and see no Ava.
“Hello?” I whisper, then take the lumos jar to get a better look at the bed, but she’s not there.
“This is not the time to hide.”
I look around some more, then find her in a corner on top of the drawer chest, her little wings curved around her. She looks at me, and I extend a hand to her, which she takes, then climbs over my arm and lands on my shoulder.
“Let’s try to find your brother.”
She chirps and stomps her little feet, and I crouch. “This is going to feel odd, but it’s for your safety.” I put her in the bucket, where she spins, as if to check that there’s really nowhere to move.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “It will be fast.”
I place a cloth on top of the bucket to cover it, but she squeaks loudly.
I lift the corner of the cloth and look at the little dragon. “Ava, you’ll need to be silent. It’s super, super important.”
She just stares and blinks, but at least she stops making any sounds. Hoping she remains quiet, I cover the bucket again, then leave the room and head to the stairs, wondering if I’ll even find her brother and if anyone is desperately looking for her.
And then I still can’t fathom who would have brought her here—or why.
The staircase is still empty, and I descend quickly. When I get downstairs, I hear voices and the sound of hammering.
Ava coos in the bucket, and I decide to go on, hoping at least to get a clue to where they are planning to move the little dragons, or if they’re missing Ava.
A carpenter is installing a new, fragile-looking wooden door in the hallway. Nearby, guards and academy officials stand watching, including Commander Mallor..
His eyes land on me—and Ava decides to chirp right at that time. I fake a cough, hoping nobody noticed it, then step back and turn around, meaning to rush up the stairs and hide.
“Recruit Mayara.” Mallor’s voice. I turn to face him, and he says, “I’ll meet you in a minute. You can wait in my office.” He doesn’t sound like he’s reprimanding me, which is odd. I doubt he’s happy to see me here.
“Of course.”
I lower my head in a sign of deference, then go up the stairs again, meaning to drop Ava in my room before heading to his office, but then I hear steps behind me.
It’s the commander.
“We can go right now,” he says. “Do you know the way?”
“I think so.” I raise the bucket. “Can I bring this to my room first?”
“There’s no need. We’ll be quick.” His voice is not harsh and yet it assaults me with a wave of dread.
I keep climbing, then stop by a door, unsure if it’s the right floor, and Mallor steps ahead of me.
“This way. Come.” His annoyed tone makes me shudder.