Chapter 15 In This Dome
In This Dome
Endymion walked me to the kitchens for lunch before taking his leave to do whatever it was he did in this court.
“Probably train,” I muttered to myself, feeling more than a little jealous if that was the case as I watched the perfectly tailored v-shape of his muscular back disappear behind the corner at the end of the hall.
Bitter, unfettered annoyance heated my body more than my now-flushed cheeks, and any peace I’d held moments before vanished like it never existed.
I shook my hands as if I could fling the feeling away like water, not quite sure what had spurred the sudden shift.
As if aroused by my mounting aggravation, my powers stirred—escalating me to fully vexed.
“Now you have something to say,” I hissed at it, fully aware I was talking aloud to the spark, or as Endymion would have me believe, myself.
Stars, was I mad at him again? What was wrong with me?
I made a mental note to visit Fenyte and ask for books on female cycles, knowing this feeling all too well—on second thought, I’d look for them myself.
I wasn’t keen on seeing if his eyebrows could go any higher, or risk him going on a diatribe about how the fae don’t need books on such things. Blah. Blah. Blah.
I shook my head, tasting the bitterness of my thoughts. No longer hungry, I abandoned any notion of food and made for my quarters before I reached the I shall slay anyone who looks at me wrong level of agitation—I didn’t need to decimate another hallway of innocent flowers.
By some miracle I made it to my residence without losing it, and I swear to the gods above that the fake smiles and empty pleasantries were almost the fucken death of me.
But I made it.
Now safely behind the closed doors, my boots were uncomfortably heavy, and I needed them off—now.
I cursed as I tried to unlace my boots—why did they have to be so bleeding tight?
The instant they were loose enough, I kicked them off, each of them flipping over a few times before landing on opposite sides of a tall vase of flowers, their sweet sent nauseating at best.
I tried everything to calm my mounting anger, but nothing worked.
Bath. Too wet.
Bed. Too soft.
Books. Too wordy.
Veranda. Too bright.
Finally—after layering in one solution at a time—I lay with my back on the slightly cooled tile in between four lounge chairs, two on each side butting each other with their backs to me, and the thickest blankets from my bed draped over top to cocoon me in darkness as I mindlessly played with the countless colors of my magic.
Although not as acute, my unprovoked anger still simmered like bubbling lava that threatened to explode its confines at any moment—and currently, the only thing keeping it from doing so was the small catharsis using my magic gave. Well, that, and the coolness of the tile against my flushed skin.
I heard Kai’s soft footsteps before the click of the handle. I closed my eyes. Counting to ten, I took in a deep breath and reminded myself it was her duty to take care of me—but godsdamnit, did she have to be so diligent?
“Good evening, Lady Nyleeria,” she called, and I clenched my fist so tight I thought my bones might crack.
In an instant, the fleck of bright colors floating in my sanctuary shifted to a blood crimson before sputtering out, stealing the only reprieve I’d been able to find today. “I told you not to call me that,” I snapped.
“I’m sorry?” Her voice was light as she whipped the sheets back to reveal the last vestiges of sunlight painting the sky.
Doing everything I could to hold my temper, I jumped to my feet and walked past her onto the veranda in search of any semblance of rational thought the sprawling vista might provide.
“Lady Nyleeria?” she asked, voice concerned.
I could’ve sworn I heard my tether snap as I whirled on her. “I told you not to call me that!”
Her cat eyes widened in fear as she took a step away from me. “I… I apologize.”
“You apologize?” I barked. “I don’t want your apologies; I just want you to do what I fucken ask.”
“I… I…” she stammered again.
I took another step forward only for her to take another one back.
“Why are you here?”
“You… you didn’t come for dinner, so I brought you some food and thought you could bathe.” Her gaze darted to the side, and I tracked it to find a dinner tray.
Clenching my fists at my side, I chocked back the power that begged me to unleash it on her. “Leave,” I managed, barely keeping my voice calm.
“I really think you should eat.”
“I. Said. Leave!” I gripped the tray by the edges and threw it against the wall, enjoying the sound of shattering glass and clattering cutlery.
She frantically looked between the tray and me before slowly backing up until, finally, she left.
Logically, I knew Kai had done nothing wrong, but emotionally I couldn’t bring myself to feel an ounce of guilt. So, I didn’t.
After that, I tossed and turned for hours, feeling uncomfortably hot in my own skin.
When I was sure there was no way the Dream Realm wouldn’t welcome me, I decided to take advantage of the ungodly hour, knowing the palace and its grounds would be desolate with the exception of a few well-placed sentries keeping watch.
I slipped on a light shirt, long flowing skirt, and a pair of shoes, then wrapped a shawl around my shoulders to account for the slight wind that’d picked up about an hour ago.
I would’ve preferred to take a swim in the lake, but I didn’t know the grounds well enough to navigate during the day, let alone at night, so I opted for the massive courtyard off to the east.
It was a lovely summer evening, and the cool breeze dancing along my skin was the first thing that hadn’t stoked my ire in a while. Slipping out of my shoes, I sat and wiggled my toes through the short grass.
“Fuck.” I sighed, rubbing my face with both hands as I mulled over everything that'd transpired since I got here and tried like the hells to stifle whatever was burning within me as I thought about what Endymion had said. How he’d implied Thaddeus would’ve taken what he wanted from me, regardless of my choice, and I couldn’t ignore that the sentiment was eerily close to Tarrin’s; how Thaddeus would sacrifice anyone and anything to save our people.
Only difference was, Tarrin was wrong—I wasn’t an exception to Thaddeus’ rule.
“Nyleeria?”
I nearly jumped out of my skin from the intrusion. “Gods above, what do I have to do to get some peace and quiet around here?” I snapped, power prickling alongside my annoyance.
Standing, I turned to find none other than the autumn commander himself clad in a loose pair of slacks and an infuriatingly delicious tight shirt. His eyes sharpened on me like they had just before we’d been attacked in the woods—like he’d marked a threat—though his countenance didn’t change.
“What do you want?” I asked, hand on hip.
He cocked a brow, and I didn’t miss how he widened his stance before crossing his arms, the rim of the short sleeves going taut, and something about his threatening posture made my vision go red.
At long last, rational thought left me, every fiber of my being lighting up with a wonderfully harsh tingling of magic.
In that moment, all I wanted—all it wanted—to do was hurt him.
No, annihilate him. However, it wanted to play with its food first, and as I’d learned earlier, words were one of my best weapons against the high and mighty commander.
“Do you like the view?” I asked, splaying my arms wide before I turned in a slow, mocking circle. “Is that why you’re out at this hour, come to look at your, what did you call me…oh right, your sacred star…your precious. Little. Spark?” The last three words came out as a sneer.
Beautiful, lethal darkness pulled around him, matching the glare he pinned me with. I smirked, knowing just how much he hated me classifying myself as an object.
“When’s the last time you used your powers?” he demanded, his tone slipping into a dangerous timbre.
“Wouldn’t. You. Like. To. Know.” I accentuated each word with a short step toward him, dropping my shawl to the ground on the last word. Gods, it was hot out here.
“It was your dream, wasn’t it. What was that…two nights ago?” he said, more to himself than me. The depth with which he looked at me had every facet of my being ignite until I was no longer able to discern where the burning intensity of my magic stopped, and I began.
As if sensing it, Endymion’s gaze turned predatory, his mouth hitching up in a smirk that was so downright sinister it almost had me sucking my bottom lip between my teeth.
Then, his eyed dragged their way from the tips of my bare toes all the way up in one, slow, motion as he drank in every, last detail.
My heart—no, my magic—no, both—fluttered.
“I do,” he said in a low drawl, the other side of his mouth ticking up. “Like the view, that is.”
Delicious, white-hot fury seared me into place as he closed the gap until we were mere inches away, forcing me to tilt my chin to meet his eyes.
Unable to form words, I swallowed, nearly panting from the inferno consuming my every, delicate, sense. And while a distant part of me wanted to step away, my magic wanted nothing more than for me to cease the space between us.
He walked around me, and I was helpless to stop a shudder rolling down my spine.
Endymion’s warm breath tickled the nape of my neck, and my eyes fluttered closed for the briefest moment.
“Don’t deny it, Nyleeria,” he whispered, his voice soft and velvety.
Gods, I didn’t want to—I was so tired of fighting.
I tilted away, exposing my long neck to him, and this time, my teeth found my bottom lip.
I was reduced to a swirling, wanton mess of an all-consuming blazing fire.
Nothing else existed outside the raw power radiating off him at my back, the warm breaths on my neck, and the magic that would surely bring me to my knees.
“I have to deny it,” I said through heavy breaths, knowing I was on the precipice of losing all control—or maybe I already had.
Glittering darkness slowly blotted out the moonlight as it encased us in its safety, and as it closed completely, the tingling nearly doubled all throughout my body.
I bit down a moan as tendrils of magic caressed their way from my temple down to the side of my neck, trailing down to my shoulder, where I knew his mouth hovered.
A whimpering sound slipped past my lips.
He stepped closer, the heat of his skin mixing with mine. “In this dome. For this moment. Be mine,” he whispered.
“Yours,” I found myself whispering. My breath hitched at the pulse of magic that rippled off of him, and in that moment I finally I gave in.
In a flash, every ounce of anger I’d been holding on to, all of the hurt, and the doubt and the pain I tried to hide bolted to my fingertips.
The rush of it had me staggering, but his magic wrapped itself around me, holding me in place.
And I let it.
“I’ve got you.”
“I know,” I breathed, pleasure building through me, all around me.
“Power like ours,” he said, voice still a whisper, “must be cycled continuously, or it will consume us. You can create worlds, or end them, Little Star—but you can’t hold on to it.”
“I don’t want to destroy,” I pled.
“Then don’t.”
Outstretching his arms by my side with palms facing forward, he unleashed unending magic that filled the dome to the brim with his glorious essence. As if coaxed out by the siren call of his, I lifted my arms, hand splayed, and finally let go.
If my power was bright like the stars, his was its opposite—blackness so pure my light both yielded to it and shone brighter against it. Our magic colliding was like a galaxy’s worth of stars in a moonless sky, and it was the most beautiful sight I’d ever beheld.
Sweet relief washed over me with every second that my raw, unbridled power was unleashed, his beautiful blackness meeting me with equal abandon.
“Endymion,” I moaned, back arching into him.
“I know.” His voice was guttural, and I felt him shiver against me.
Patiently, he coaxed every last drop of starlight into utter contentment, and as the last of the brightness winked out, I let his calming darkness envelop me, its texture like cool silk flowing against my skin, its presence protective, reassuring.
“In this dome. For this moment,” I said softly, repeating his words.
Feeling utterly sated, I let myself lean back into him, head lulling against the hard ridges of his chest.
“In this dome. For this moment.” He rested his cheek atop my head, then wrapped his arms around me, holding me tight against him.
And in the pitch black, as his very essence enveloped me, I allowed myself to exist—with him.