Chapter Twenty-One
There is a time to plant, a time to water, and a time to harvest.
Awe broke over Cyrus as if he glowed from the inside out. “You said yes.”
“I did,” I confirmed, my grin widening.
Motions fluid, he gripped my nape and yanked me higher, closer, while swooping down and claiming my lips with his own. There was no easing me into a gentle seduction. No soft exploration. He ravaged my mouth, and I ravaged his right back.
His fingers fisted a handful of my hair, creating a pressure and pull I relished. Pins dislodged.
He spun us both around, cupped my backside, and picked me up, then tossed me onto the couch.
Lips puffed, expression fierce, he tore at his jacket and dropped the garment on the floor.
But soon after he began ripping at the buttons on his shirt, he paused, huffed, and scrubbed a hand over his face.
“I might hate myself for saying this, but I think we should stop.”
Wait. What? I sat up, panting my breaths. “Is this about Domino?”
“I don’t care about your connection to the librarian anymore.
We’ll deal with that.” He collected the jacket and stabbed his arms into the proper sleeves.
Bending down, he braced one hand against the top of the couch and cupped my cheek with the other, stroking the pad of his thumb over the rise.
“The party. There isn’t time to love you properly.
And . . .” He scrubbed a hand over his face.
“There was a pre–Fall of Nations custom. From what I’ve read, it serves as a way to honor the one you love. ”
Oookay. “I’m listening.”
“I can’t believe I’m saying this,” he muttered. “But I think we should wait to be together until the marriage vows are spoken.” He arched a brow. “I’m assuming you’ve never been with a man.”
I chewed my bottom lip. “I, um. No, I haven’t.”
The tenderness he beamed at me would’ve knocked me to the floor if I’d been standing. Slowly he lowered his face to mine and kissed my lips with gentle reverence. “Let me make your—our—first time special, as husband and wife.”
His husky words burned a blush of pleasure into my cheeks. “All right. Yes.”
“The wait is going to be torture.” As he straightened, he pulled me to my feet. Smiling at me, he glided his strong hands over my dress, smoothing the material. He even tidied my hair, heart-wrenchingly gentle. “But I swear I’ll make it worth every second.”
Standing there, drinking in his gorgeous, branded face, I could finally see a path to overcome the prophecies written in our books.
Tomorrow, I would help acquire Emperor Dolion’s key and reclaim the field of berries.
Then, whenever the horn blasted and Astan officially selected Cyrus as a host, Cyrus would refuse, no matter the consequences.
He would become king of Theirland, despite this.
He didn’t even require the emperor’s blessing.
All he had to do? Publicly out himself as a Soalian, lead an army, and take the crown.
But would he agree? I thought he might. There was no other way to get everything we wanted without compromising our futures. Once we’d accomplished our goals, we could wed.
Think of it. Me, Arden Dawn Dolion. Cyrus, my husband. Flutters teased my belly. “Let’s not tell people about our engagement just yet. We have enough on our plates.”
Though he appeared disappointed, he said, “We’ll do this at your pace, however you are comfortable.”
“Thank you.” I was about to snake my arms around his shoulders when I caught sight of Domino, his features etched with pain. Except, no. The librarian wasn’t there. Our bond had dulled again.
A knock at the door ended the conversation and my musings. Time to attend the emperor’s “gathering.”
Cyrus and I walked hand in hand to a temple that featured a statue of Astan, midair, with massive diamond-encrusted wings outstretched, casting shadows across the room.
I tried to wrap my mind around the architecture.
Nothing held him in the air. Not a cord nor a base.
The stone was just there, centered between the ceiling and the floor.
More shocking, his horns had risen yet again and were now almost at full height.
I pressed my free hand over the pulse pounding in my throat. Closer to the end than ever.
There were other statues as well: Bala and ten hybrids.
The pet dragon crouched behind Astan to watch over him, roaring at the world, ready to leap at one and all.
To the right of her was a couple wrapped together in a highly suggestive lover’s pose.
Both beings possessed four arms each, and those arms covered a lot of ground.
To the left, two men reached for a large, round orb that hovered several inches above them, and like Astan, it had no anchor. One of the males looked to have daggers rather than fingers, while the other’s fingernails coiled like whips.
A female with three legs, each from a different animal, appeared to dance in flames, while the hem of her gauzy, transparent dress rippled at her feet.
Some kind of lizard man stretched across a dais in the back, his expression projecting boredom, anger, and glee all at once.
A catlike man raised a goblet as if toasting the others, while crystal tears glistened on his cheeks.
The being next to him possessed the lower half of a warhorse and the upper body of a man. He held two swords in the air, the tips crossed.
A man with four faces rode him, looking everywhere at once. One face was that of a human with thorny protrusions, the second some kind of goat, the third what might be a prehistoric lion with two sets of razor-sharp teeth, and the fourth that of a snake-monster-thing.
In the very center of the room posed a beauty I recognized: Briar Rose. My breath faltered. Flowers coiled around her throat, while vines covered her arms and legs. Leaves and petals created a dazzling gown. Roses bloomed in her hands.
Unlike the other statues, these were made with shiny obsidian. Shadows slithered around them all, flowing in and out of cracks.
All of it left me disquieted. Tick tock.
“Astan’s council of gods,” Cyrus muttered. “Prophecy tells us Astan, Briar Rose, and two of the others will be the first to gain their freedom in the coming waves, but it won’t be long before the others follow.”
“Are the gods inside these specific casings? Here?”
“Yes and no.” He lifted our joined hands and kissed mine. “These stones contain their essence, which seeps from a different dimensional plane than ours.”
Like Domino and me when one of us was spirit and the other flesh, the two of us one?
Shudders rocked me on my feet. Did the statues in Ourland contain the essence of actual beings as well? Entities determined to rule our world as their own?
Deep breath in. “Let’s get this over with.”
Cyrus led me forward with his arm around my waist. The emperor and Mr. Vyle had yet to arrive, but everyone else was present, the royals dressed in formal attire. The trainees wore clean fatigues.
I swallowed a groan. As if I’d needed another reason to alienate them. Although, when they discovered my engagement—and my allegiance to Soal—true separation would come.
Lolli especially stunned in a slinky black gown with less material than mine and a higher-wattage sparkle.
A headpiece made of obsidian created a fan of spikes.
Beads dangled over her brow, resembling bangs.
Rubies arranged to resemble roses circled her neck and climbed both of her arms from wrist to elbow.
They also wound around her calves from ankle to knee, glittering with her every step.
Masked waitstaff flittered about, carrying trays with the most delicious-looking delicacies.
Desserts, meats, and fruits never served to commoners.
Still full from dinner, I wasn’t even tempted to partake.
Some kind of pale, sparkling beverage flowed from a fountain, and judging by the laughter coming from the trainees as they imbibed, they loved it.
Roman wobbled on his feet as he saluted Cyrus. None of the others bothered to salute at all.
Lolli spotted us and, with a grin teasing the corners of her mouth, sauntered over, selecting a drink along the way.
“Hello, Cy.” She kissed his unscarred cheek and brushed her fingers over his broad shoulders, seemingly unconcerned when he stiffened. “Send your favorite accessory to play with her friends. There’s something we should discuss.”
I rolled my eyes. This high princess had no power over me, and we both knew it. “They aren’t my friends.” Roman had assured me of that.
“She stays with me,” Cyrus said, tightening his hold on my waist.
I could’ve gloated and remained, but I wanted her to understand I no longer viewed her as a threat.
More than that, I trusted Cyrus, my fiancé.
“Go ahead, have your chat. You can tell me all about it later.” I grazed my nails lightly over his brand in a mimic of her, and he leaned into my touch. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” he told me, unashamed for others to hear.
Lolli conveyed only boredom.
I sashayed off, expecting Cyrus to release my hand. To my amusement, he gave a little yank and spun me back into him. Impact pushed a laugh from my parted lips.
Expression fierce enough to startle, he commanded, “Stay where I can see you.” He used a hard tone I’d never heard before, and it took the fun out of the exchange.
I gave a terse nod. “Sir, yes, sir.”
He released me, and I pivoted, striding off. My heels clacked against the hard floor as I worked to school my troubled expression. The center statue drew my gaze. Those flowers. The petals appeared as soft as velvet, and my hands itched to touch.