Chapter 3
The night air whips my hair around, and I take another deep breath as I hear it again—my name, softly carried by the wind. I look toward the table where my friends are talking among themselves. No one is looking at me, let alone speaking directly to me.
“Hello?” I whisper into the darkness, but no one answers. Only the slapping of the waves echoes around me.
A chill runs up my spine as I step away from the ship's edge, absolutely uninterested in figuring it out at the moment.
“Briar, come relax,” Oak shouts, as I move their way. “Have a drink.”
“You better hurry, or Oak may drink it all,” Maines chimes in.
I make my way back to the table, my footsteps silent against the roaring waves. Although my hearing is often limited on the ship’s deck, I can’t shake the feeling that I need to listen.
I place both hands on the table and lean in, staring directly at Oak. “How much have you had to drink?”
“A few.” A wide grin spreads across his face. “But not enough.”
“Oh, I beg to differ,” Maines snaps.
“Okay, maybe five glasses,” Oak laughs.
“Try eight,” Maines adds.
Silas coughs, propping his ankle on his knee. “Light weight.”
“Fine,” Oak huffs. “I’ve had enough that I might finally let Maines tie me up tonight. She’s been begging to.”
Silas and I snap our gaze to Maines before exploding with laughter.
“Okay, Mr. Hombern.” She turns red, and her jaw drops. “I believe you’ve officially had and said enough tonight.”
“Nah,” Oak says, offering his wrists to her with a wink.
“That’s what happens when you start drinking long before the party starts.” Maines grabs his cup, and points. “Look at Silas. He isn’t a drunk fool.”
“Come on,” he argues, reaching across her for his cup. “He’s always this stiff.”
Maines stands and places her hands on her hips. “I think it’s time we retire for the night. We have a big day tomorrow, and I don’t think you will want to spill your guts on the pier in front of the wonderful people of Andorwood.”
Oak grabs the bottle and tips it back.
“Let’s do this, darling,” he says, wiping his mouth with pride. “It’s time to be roped.”
Maines snatches the bottle and slams it down on the table with a thud, glaring at him.
“If you two don’t hear from me tomorrow,” Oak wobbles and a laugh booms from his throat, “please come untie me.”
Rage radiates off Maines as she pulls him away.
“Pray for him.” Maines tugs at his waist. “Because if you don’t hear from him tomorrow, it’s because I’ve fucking killed him.”
Silas laughs as she stomps toward the stairs, Oak stumbling close behind, both of them waving their goodbyes.
“Oak Hombern is something,” Silas says, still laughing. “I’ve never met anyone quite like him.”
“He’s been this way since we were children. Well, not a drunk fool, but he sees the fun side of life.”
“It’s important to have friends like that,” Silas says.
“As children, he always made me laugh until my stomach hurt. I’m happy to say that still happens now as adults,” I respond, smiling as I reminisce.
My mind goes back to a summer when Oak and his father visited.
We spent our days outrunning guards, reading books, and I often made Oak perform any ritual related to his Lumor ability.
Even at a young age, I was fascinated with the magic of light and wished I could wield some myself.
Ritual after ritual, Oak would show me how he could illuminate the world around us.
He has a way of brightening the darkest nights, even outside his magic.
“Tonight was fun,” Silas says. “It felt normal. I know that isn’t something we’ve had much of, but when this is over, I’m excited to experience the joys that this life can bring us.” Silas leans back in his chair, taking another drink, and I just look at him for a long moment, enjoying the view.
I grab his hand and rise, pulling him to do the same.
His strong body towers over mine as I stand on my toes to reach his mouth.
I gently slide my tongue across his lips, teasing him, before I whisper in his ear, “I want my other birthday present now.” I slide my hand across his abdomen and down to the seam of his pants.
“Some distraction would do me well, don’t you think? ”
Silas jolts from the touch, his gaze filled with heat.
“Finally.” Silas smirks. “I’ve been waiting all day for this.”
His eyes darken as I lead him down the stairs toward our small cabin. His hands begin exploring my body from behind, trailing up and down my spine and sending shockwaves straight to my core in anticipation.
Before I can make it across the threshold, Silas spins me, and his lips find mine. His kiss becomes feral as he guides me backward toward our bed. I turn us before he can sit me down, causing him to fall onto the cot with a thud, his eyes growing large in surprise.
“Now, now, Mr. Nastronde, I believe you said you would do whatever I wanted.”
“I did,” he agrees.
“So, I’m in charge.”
His gaze turns wild. “Go on.”
“Lay back,” I demand.
He hesitates but obeys.
“Good boy,” I mock.
Silas stretches his arms wide above his head before tucking them under his messy hair. A devilish grin spreads across his face as he waits for me to continue.
“You may only move when I say you can.”
He nods.
“I need your words,” I say, sharply. “So, use them.”
“I’ll only move when you say I can.”
“Perfect.”
I move toward the bed and place my hands on his muscled thighs, slightly massaging them, before moving my hands up his body.
I remove his shirt, revealing his toned stomach with the many faded scars in no organized fashion.
Starting at his neck, I begin to kiss him, soft and gentle.
I make my way down his chest, then stomach.
A deep moan leaves his lips as I move lower, just barely above the waistband of his pants, before I pause.
Raising my head, I gaze at his handsome face, his eyes drunk with lust and a hint of wine.
I begin to slide down his pants, never breaking my stare, and start kissing once more.
Lower and lower with each delicate peck, I flick my tongue against his warm, tanned skin.
His hands move and tighten in my hair as I near his cock with my mouth.
I lift in a flash, and his hands drop to the side.
“Are you moving?” My shadows begin to dance around my body as invisible hands snake up his, slowly massaging their way to pin them down.
“Briar, let me fucking touch you.”
I return to my ministrations, teasing him with my lips.
“Seeing you utterly defenseless brings me joy,” I breathe. “I want you to beg, Prince.”
He growls low. “It would take me mere seconds to pin you down, Briar.”
“Not yet.”
His head lifts from the bed as he props himself on his elbows. “You. Are. Wicked.”
“Silas,” I warn, asking him to lie back.
His head falls backward onto the sheets once more, and I begin to move my mouth, my lips grazing over his tip. I flick my tongue in a rhythm that has him squirming under my hold.
“That delicious fucking mouth will be the end of me,” he groans, voice low and needy.
“Is that all?” I ask, moving my tongue from his length. “That doesn’t sound like a plea to me.”
His gaze meets mine, and his hands attempt to move against my hold, desperate to touch me. His stare is filled with hunger, only for me and what I’m teasing him with. My heart races in my chest, and my body fills with excited anticipation.
“I need you, Briar.”
“More,” I snap.
“If I don’t have you right now,” he pauses and groans, “I will… fucking die.”
I lower my gaze, returning my mouth so close to his tip that I know he can feel my breath.
“Then let me be the one to bring you back to life.”
Silas Nastronde, the Prince of Darkness, is helpless under my touch.
It brings me great pleasure knowing that I am among the very few who might be stronger than he is.
I lick slowly from the thick base of his length to the tip, before wrapping my lips around his entire cock.
A low moan leaves his mouth, desperate for more, as I pump up and down as far as my mouth and throat allow.
I move my hand in tandem with the rhythm of my mouth, gripping hard.
He’s enjoying this, and so am I, his moans echoing around us as I lower down again. After a few minutes, I release him, wiping my mouth slightly, and he barks in protest.
I step back a few paces, my shadows still pinning him down, and stare at him. Silas looks stunning while totally under my command. I slowly begin to unbutton my shirt until it falls to the ground in a graceful descent. His eyes grow wild, staring at my bare breasts.
“Get over here,” Silas demands, but is still unable to move. “Now.”
“Such an impatient man,” I reply, smirking.
“I’m not fucking joking.”
I begin to unbutton my pants. He wiggles under the hold of my shadows, desperate to free a hand to touch me.
Just like my blouse, I let my pants fall to the ground, having purposefully skipped undergarments earlier tonight for this very moment.
I stand and bask in his gaze for a moment before I begin to lower my own hand, tracing every inch of my chest and moving toward my hips.
I take my time before I reach my own wetness and tip my head back at the touch, my body desperate for friction.
“Fucking Gods,” he whispers.
I plunge two fingers into my own body, causing a whimper to leave my lips as he watches.
“Do you want to touch me, Silas?” I ask, on a moan.
“Yes,” he rasps.
“Do you want to fuck me, Silas?”
“My love,” he groans, the impatience obvious in his tone. “I want to fucking ruin you right now.”
I grab my aching breasts, staring at him.
Silas trembles as he watches me, desperate to reach me. “I want to devour you, your soul, and make you forget your own fucking name. I’m going to make sure mine will be the only godsdamn name you ever scream again.”
I snap my fingers, releasing my shadows. “Then ruin me.”