58. Reignited
T he order thrilled Adrian. He licked and nibbled down Rose’s slender neck, smiling against her skin as she moaned faintly, trembled, and her fingers tightened again in his hair.
And then he kissed lightly along her collarbone, nibbling more, sucking, scraping with his fangs. He opened another thin cut and licked along it to seal it, moaning at the taste of her, at the magic snapping in her blood.
Fucking heaven.
“Please,” she begged, her magic hot and sultry around her. “Dear God, Adrian, please.”
The sound of his name in her mouth was almost his undoing. He wanted more than anything to do as she asked, but he pulled away instead, taking in her lust-hazed expression, and wondered if that was all this was to her—passion, lust, the need for her mate and not him . He’d done much to make her doubt him, much to turn her away.
She’d left, after all, and he’d heard nothing from her.
He was afraid he’d never get her back.
And he didn’t want to muddy anything by diminishing their relationship to sex before expectations were set .
As she blinked her eyes, confusion taking over, he smiled and stroked her cheek. “I want nothing more than to take you right here against this tree,” he told her, “but I won’t. Not until we talk. Not until things are clear.”
She blinked again. “I don’t understand.”
“I have always been greedy. Selfish.” Tucking a loose curl behind her ear, he continued, “I’m not who I was, Rose, and I want to prove that to you. I’ve worked hard for it.”
Her expression softened. “I know you have, Adrian.”
“Kept tabs on me, have you?”
“I tried to. It killed me to leave, but”—she suddenly looked away, something he couldn’t decipher entering her eyes—“I had to.”
“I know. I understand. From the looks of things, you’ve done much here.”
She gave a short shake of her head. “Today was a win, but there have not been many . . . for me. But let’s not talk about that. Let’s talk about you. How are you, honestly?”
“Better seeing you again.”
She gave him a stern look. “Don’t flirt. There is much you’ve lost. Your father, your mother, the crown was thrust upon you before I was even out of the capital, or so I heard.”
“It’s all fine.”
“Fine?” Rose asked, incredulous. She pushed him away, and he took a small step back. “Your father was your idol. Your mother—”
“My father was a manipulative tyrant. Yes, I miss him, of course I miss him, but . . . You showed me things didn’t have to be the way he taught me. I just needed the strength and courage to make it happen. And Mother . . . I miss her, too, of course, but she was always so much more Dimitri’s, the same way I was Father’s.”
Rose nodded, running a hand up his arm in comfort. “Everything has changed.”
“Indeed. But for the better. I have a close circle of friends I genuinely trust and advisors who believe in the things I do. Dimitri is one of them.” Rose’s eyes widened. “He is much changed as well. Neigera is not the place you left.”
She opened her mouth to respond, and he cupped her face, stopping her.
“This visit is political, of course, trying to strengthen relations between our kingdoms as I’ve been struggling to do since the very beginning of the Slave War, but I also . . .” He cleared his throat. “I want my mate back. I planned to gauge how you felt, see if there was any hope of reconciliation.” He watched her swallow, thought her heavenly as her chest rose and fell with her breathing.
“I haven’t chosen a Queen. Because you are it. My heart belongs to you, my mate, the only one for me.” He wiped a tear as it streaked down her cheek. “I’ve made mistakes. I will be the first to admit that, but you were never one of them. You were the best thing that ever happened to me, stunning me with your brilliant light and waking up my cold heart. I love you, Rose. Always.”
Her tears fell faster.
“I wasn’t sure you could love my”—he set a finger to his scar—“ugliness.”
Sniffling, Rose reached up to trace the line with her finger. He closed his eyes at the tenderness, at her heat permeating the cold, making him feel not so unsightly. His scar was horrendous, disfiguring him, making him unappealing. He heard the whispers and what people called him behind his back.
“I could take it,” she whispered .
And he knew without a doubt that she would. She would take the jagged mark into herself, mar her own skin to save his.
But he couldn’t have that. He deserved his scar and needed the reminder of his weakness.
And what had grown from it.
So, he shook his head.
Leaning up, she kissed the edge of his jaw where the scar ended, and then next to his mouth, and then on his cheekbone.
“You’re as handsome as the day you saved me on the whipping block,” she whispered as she then kissed the slightly slanted corner of his eye.
“You’re the one who saved me, Rose. A soothsayer once told me that my mate would be my ruin. But you were my salvation.”
Her eyes searched his. And then she said, as if the words were painful, “I’m not sure things between us could ever work.”
His heart tightened. “Why?”
“Your people hate me, Adrian.”
“My people adore you. You are the Lost Princess, the Benevolent Maid, the one who showed mercy, compassion, and kindness to the least of them. You are a symbol of hope, strength, and perseverance.”
She shook her head. “Your counselors would never approve. Your nobles—”
“My nobles urged me to come months ago. My counselors are beside themselves with the notion.” Smiling indulgently, he lifted her left hand to kiss the finger he was determined would wear his rings, which burned in his pocket.
“Lady Julianna—”
“Rose,” he cut off gently, kissing her hand again. “There is no one else for me. If you’ll not have me, I’ll remain a bachelor forever, and Dimitri or his progeny will get the crown when I die or become unfit.” She frowned. “ And,” he added, “Julianna is now Duchess Holt, expecting her first child in a few months with my good friend Andrew.”
“The Marquis?”
“I gave him more lands and the title of Duke after the Uprising. He supported me unwaveringly during the Slave War and is now part of my inner circle along with Benny and Silas. They have been my greatest support in our restructuring. But I need you. I need my strong Queen beside me, helping to lead Neigera into the greatness I see.”
“I am no strong Queen,” Rose said sadly. “I am the Broken Princess, a glass doll with little power even in my homeland. It took years of fighting to win one battle in the Senate.”
“The first battle is always the toughest. Your hard work paid off with a victory this morning. The elves may see you as damaged and delicate, but you proved them wrong today. In the future, your opinions will have more weight.” He ran his thumb over the fingers of the hand he still held. “Neigera knows you were a spark in our revolution. We know who you are. Do not doubt yourself.” He tucked away more fluttering hair, loving the way the hellish breeze played with the strands. He’d tolerate it for that alone. He’d tolerate all of Constalaysia for her. “Together, we will be unbeatable.”
She rolled her eyes, and it made him smile. “Still arrogant as ever, I see.”
The smile stretched to a grin. “You know you love me that way.”
She softened, her eyes locked on his. He saw the want there, the craving for what he craved—real and true completion in every way, partners in name and bond. His heart beat faster with the hope that she was willing to try.
“Be mine again, my Rose. Be my light. Come home.”
But something like fear crossed her features when the high laughter of a child rang out. Her eyes went wide with panic as they turned to see a small boy dragging Aldric through the garden. It was a sight, the child pulling the huge werewolf by the hand. Aldric was shirtless and barefoot, having changed from his suit as soon as he was able. Rose’s Ciel flew ahead of them, swooping playfully down in front of the boy to make him laugh.
The sight of the hawk made Adrian’s chest ache. He hadn’t realized just how much he’d missed the shapeshifter.
Polymorph, he corrected.
“Adrian, there’s something I have to tell you,” Rose said in a rush, clutching his arm.
But then the boy shouted, “Mommy!” and threw himself at Rose. He laughed loudly as she tossed him high, high into the air, and he realized she must be using her magic. When she set him on her hip, he wrapped his arms around her neck, still giggling.
“I had snack with Alpha ’Ric.”
“Good,” Rose said. “I bet you were hungry. You missed your afternoon cup.”
“Thea brought his usual,” Aldric said, surprising Adrian with the familiarity.
But he knew Rose and Aldric had a relationship, a friendship , Aldric insisted, and he tried not to feel jealous. It was a futile endeavor, as it had been for years, especially with the new mystery of this child who called her mommy .
“Your Majesty.” Aldric bowed to him.
“Alpha,” he returned with a nod.
But he quickly looked back at the boy in Rose’s arms. He had dark hair like Aldric, yes, but his skin was pale and his eyes a reddish hue. As Adrian took in the round, baby-like features of his face, he wondered . . . But no . . . It wasn’t possible . . .