Chapter 20 Enlighten
Verena
W hen the song ends, he looks as if he wants to keep going and I almost open my mouth to ask us too. But we stop, eyes still locked. Other couples join the dance floor as another song starts.
“Thank you for the dance.” I speak softly, my words seemingly inaudible but I know he hears me. My heart continues beating fast and suddenly I do not feel like partying any longer.
When he finally lets me go, I step away and find his mother in the crowd as she watches her eldest child and myself.
“Verena, dear, you look stunning.”
I give her a curtsy, “Thank you, Calanthe. Merry Natal Day. I’ve suddenly gotten an ache in my head and I fear I need rest. I am deeply sorry for cutting your celebration short. If you’ll excuse me?” I ask, seeing how pale my skin looks in the mirror behind her, noting Eryx still staring at me, making his way over to us.
She nods in understanding, her eyes reading me as if she was my own mother and I take my leave.
My bare feet hastily take me from the room, not caring who watches.
The guards at the entry doors pay me no mind as I rush out of the doors. I need to get out. I feel as if I cannot breathe .
Something in me snaps, like a taut string finally breaking under pressure, and tears fill my eyes for reasons I’m unsure of. The salty liquid blurs my vision, threatening to spill over onto my cheeks. Everything tonight was overwhelming, a cacophony of sights, sounds, and emotions that left me reeling. I’m not quite sure how to feel, my heart a jumble of conflicting sensations.
I round a corner, my feet moving of their own accord, when I smack straight into another fae. The impact is jarring, and I gasp, the sound sharp in the quiet corridor. I struggle to hold back the water in my eyes, blinking rapidly. “Verena.” The voice is unfamiliar to me, melodic yet cold, and I look up to see a beautiful fae. Her features are ethereal, almost painfully perfect, with high cheekbones and eyes that shimmer like precious gems.
“Do I know you?” I ask her, my voice barely above a whisper. I try to leave without being rude, my body angling away from her imposing presence.
“You don’t belong here,” she hisses, her words dripping with venom. “He is not yours. Do you understand me?” Her eyes narrow, flashing dangerously. “Eryx will marry me, my father will see to it or otherwise he will lose his council’s approval of any future decisions. Leave Khyrel.” She steps closer, the scent of jasmine and something darker, more sinister, wafting from her skin. “Or you will not live to see another week.”
The threat, so blatant and cold, makes me scoff. I look into her muddy eyes, like stagnant pools of water, and feel a surge of defiance rise within me. The fear that had gripped me moments ago dissipates, replaced by a steely resolve.
“I do not even know you but I do not care. You threaten me?” I huff a laugh, the tears drying rapidly. “You have no idea who I am, what I have endured in my life, or where I come from. Eryx is owned by no one and he is certainly not owned by you, a pompous cunt who is probably so pampered she needs daddy to even shit.” I have no control over the words flowing from my mouth, but it doesn’t matter.
Her hands come up around my throat with a ferocious strength, cutting off my air supply and causing me to panic for a moment. But then my instincts kick in and I quickly reach for the small blade hidden under the fabric of my clothing. With swift movements, I slice upwards on her wrist and downwards on the other, drawing deep lines that immediately began to bleed. A warm, sticky sensation spreads across my chest as her blood drips down onto me.
She lets out a scream of pain and anger, stepping back from me. “What is wrong with you?” she shouts, her eyes blazing with fury and fear, a delicious mix of both.
I grip the blade in a defensive stance, forcing her to stop in her tracks before she can try to hurt me further. “I am not afraid to kill you, you wretched shrew,” I spat out, my voice laced with venom. “Come any closer and I will see to it myself, since no one else seems to have the guts.”
Blood continues to pour from her wounds and I can’t help but smirk at the damage. “You should hurry to the healers,” The taunting words leave my lips, “But be warned, your fae healing powers won’t work against the poison on this blade.”
She snarls at me before turning and running in the opposite direction of where I want to go. Dark red droplets stain the ground behind her, a satisfying sight for someone who had been treated like a puppet their entire life.
I sheath the blade and make it all the way to the stairs before Eryx catches up to me.
“I will see to it she is handled.” He speaks with anger.
“No need, I did it myself.”
He follows me all the way to my room and when I enter, instead of being able to slam the door shut, he places his hand there to stop it and welcomes himself in. I sigh from the motion.
“Verena.” He speaks again but I do not care to listen. I want to get the blood off of me. “Are you hurt?” He asks, noting the red covering my front.
“No.” My throat is a little scratchy from her grasp. She had a surprisingly strong grip but otherwise I am fine.
He approaches from behind, a presence I feel before his form comes into view. When he turns me to face him, our eyes lock in an intense gaze. “Look at me.” It’s a command—urgent and unwavering—but I surrender to it willingly.
“I care for you,” he continues, his voice low and fervent. “I do not wish to see you dead. While Alyra lacks power, her father certainly does not. I will speak to him tonight.” He pauses, the weight of his words sinking in. “Alyra is jealous of you, and I’m relieved to see that she doesn’t get under your skin.”
His declaration sends a jolt through my body, leaving me momentarily frozen as the air becomes thick and suffocating. Our breaths come in heavy gasps from the frantic rush that brought us to my room; his eyes blaze with a mix of anger and a deep-seated longing that has been present since the night began.
Dare I take that leap?
My gaze drifts toward his lips, drawn to their softness despite my instinct compelling me to look back up into his darkened eyes. They glisten with allure, plump and inviting, igniting a fierce yearning within me. Oh gods, how desperately I want to kiss him.
This feeling is so abnormal to me. I thought I had feelings for Dryston but none compared to this, not even as young fae when our hormones are raging to balance out. Dryston wanted me, even seemed to have no problem manipulating me into it. I thought we’d marry, that he’d be my husband. We’d have babies and live our life full of love and respect.
I want to laugh at the thought.
My entire life turned upside down just a few short weeks ago and yet here I am trying to throw myself at the next King who shows me a lick of attention. I am so pathetic.
Will this ruin our deal? We are supposed to marry if it comes to it and people will expect this. We’re supposed to publicly show that we are growing feelings for each other but at this moment? We are alone… in my room… with me in a dress that leaves little to the imagination yet somehow is still regal.
I can’t do this. I won’t allow myself to blur these lines and assume he has feelings for me like I did with Dryston. It’ll hurt too much in the end when he no longer has use for me .
I take a step back but before I can get far, his hand flashes to the back of my neck, pulling me to him. My hands rest on his chest, prepared to push him away. That is, until his lips meet mine in a desperate plea.
Suddenly I am melting into his touch, my chest completely against his as our lips meld together.
His hand tightens it’s hold on the back of my neck while the other grips my waist, pulling me closer. My hands are clenched in his shirt, wrinkling the expensive fabric.
Heat flares within me, the unfamiliar feeling rising. My heart beats so hard I fear it’ll pulse out of my chest. His body radiates warmth and I want more.
I go to move my arms around his neck, pulling his face down closer to mine. We both pull tighter, and I can feel every inch of him.
I feel as if I’ve been lit on fire when he squeezes, eliciting a light moan to slip from my lips as he grazes the inside of my mouth with his tongue. Gods , his tongue. My knees want to give out but he holds me too him and I feel his hardened cock push against me.
When a deep, resonant groan rumbles from his throat, it takes every ounce of willpower in me not to collapse to my knees, utterly undone. A warm wave of something akin to magic unfurls within me, sending tingling sparks dancing through my veins as if a hidden energy is awakening and purring softly.
He kisses me with a delicious urgency, prompting a helpless whimper to escape my lips. In this moment, I am profoundly grateful for the delicate fabric of my dress; its thinness allows for every sensation to intensify.
His lips leave mine only momentarily, granting me a precious breath before he begins to trail soft kisses along my jawline, down to the sensitive spot just beneath my ear where his warm breath sends shivers cascading down my spine.
With a gentle yet commanding hand on my waist, he urges me forward, and I instinctively leap into his arms, wrapping my legs around him as I seek closer contact. My body writhes against him, full of longing; another moan escapes my throat as he finds that sweet spot, drawing forth sounds of pleasure that echo between us.
I crave him—every part of him—right here and right now.
A knock reverberates around the room, jolting us both apart from the sudden noise. I slip from his grasp, tumbling backwards. Pants of air leave me as I adjust my dress and lightly touch my fingers to my lips, the scene replaying over and over. I stare at the ground, unable to remember why we stopped.
“Verena? Are you awake?” Ruelle’s voice cuts through the sudden chill I have now that Eryx is several feet away from me. My eyes meet his, still darkened from our moment. I take note his fingers tracing his hip, a confusing look through his eyes, while his other hand adjusts himself in his pants and now I can’t stop wondering what he’d feel like between my legs.
Ruelle’s footsteps retreat and I release a shaky breath.
I go to speak to him, but he cuts me off. “Good night, Verena.” Then escapes the room before a second more passes. It happens fast, too fast, and now I sit here wondering what just occurred.
How could I let that happen? Does he regret it? Do I?
He feels so good pressed against me, perfect even. He tastes like blackberry bourbon and the lingering flavor in my mouth alone makes me want to do crazy things.
He is intoxicating. And I can’t help but feel like I’ve known him my entire life. The birthmark on my side tingles and I hold my hand to it, trying to soothe the unnatural feeling.
I strip the dress off, wanting to sleep. But, even as I lay there, rest does not come to me.
I stare at the ceiling, thinking over and over about the feeling of him pressed to me, kissing me as if he was a starving man and I was the only thing in sight to devour.
My body tingles everywhere and it’s only when I finally see the sun creep up do I drift to sleep.