Chapter 18
CHAPTER 18
T he air is thick with a heady perfume when we step inside. A servant peels my cloak away, and in that moment, I feel it—the aphrodisiac already weaving its spell through my blood.
Looking around, I realize that any rumors that Aeden hosts dull parties are wildly inaccurate. This is a debauchery-soaked banquet of pure indulgence, with a heated pool in the center. Beautiful, naked Fey writhe in the water, kissing and stroking each other in languid rhythms. Warm, humid air caresses my skin through my sheer gown.
I catch a glimpse of myself in a mirror and blink. I look stunningly Fey. My hair is pulled back in a jeweled brooch, and my body is visible through the sheer dress, another masterpiece by Jasper. Seemingly transparent yet cleverly designed, the gown is complete with the pockets I requested.
As someone hands me a glass of mead, I try to ignore that all eyes are on me, the new princess. My gaze slides over a room of lush pillows and hidden alcoves, of half-nude Fey entwined with each other.
The stiff formality of the palace dinners hadn’t prepared me for this.
“That’s Lord Aedan,” Talan says in a low voice. His hand lightly brushes mine as he motions toward a large table on the far side of the pool.
Holding a goblet of mead, Aedan surveys the room with a satisfied smile. A young woman sits at his side, her pale, narrowed gaze fixed directly on me. Her black hair cascades over her sheer golden gown. She’s gorgeous, and based on her spiteful expression, she hates me.
“Who’s she?” I ask Talan.
“That’s Eithne, his daughter. She was my lover for a while. Another one Auberon hoped I might marry because she’s nearly as rich as Arwenna.”
She grips a carving knife so hard, her knuckles have turned white, and her lips curl as she watches me.
“I have a feeling she’s not over you,” I whisper.
His laugh is a soft caress. “She’s ancient history.”
Something catches his attention, and his gaze darkens, a cold thrum of magic pulsing off his body. “Ah. Lumos is here. And he’s looking at you.” A sharp edge slices the velvety timbre of his voice.
I wonder if he’s heard the rumors I planted that Lumos is running a secret spy network out of Val Sans Retour.
Lumos’s dark hair is slicked back, and he looks utterly smashed, as usual. He reminds me of a cheap knock-off Talan. The surface-level similarities are apparent, from the clothing he wears to the rings on his fingers, but he lacks Talan’s most striking characteristic—his heart-shattering, unearthly beauty, the kind that steals breath and makes it hard to think.
“Come on.” Talan’s voice is a sensual whisper. “Let’s look like we’re enjoying ourselves.”
He slides his hand over the small of my back, his palm warming me through the delicate material of my gown, and guides me to an alcove where cushions lay piled over a bench. The heady scent of spiced wine and incense wraps around me, and the delicious hum of magic pulses through the air.
Talan pulls me into his lap, one arm around my waist, and I nestle close against his warm, muscled chest. The man has much strength tightly coiled in his finely carved body, and his power radiates over me like the sun.
“Nia,” he murmurs, “we’re supposed to be in love. Look into my eyes.”
I meet his gaze, and for a moment, everything else fades away—the music, the chatter. There is only him, the Dream Stalker, his dark, smoldering gaze making my blood heat. I lick my lips.
Focus, Nia.
I came here to kill him, but first, I have to play the part.
My thoughts become hazy. It’s hard to think straight when I’m this close to someone so perfectly, impossibly beautiful.
He reaches for my throat and slowly strokes his thumb along my collarbone, sending molten heat through my veins. With each brush of his fingers, my rational thoughts evaporate more.
We’re close, body to body, and some of his thoughts seep into my mind. I want to kiss every inch of your skin, to caress you with my tongue. To taste you would be to sip the nectar of an exquisite bloom…
“I think you’ll surrender to me eventually,” he murmurs, tracing a slow circle on my back. “And when you do, there won’t be anyone else in your thoughts. Not anymore. Because sometimes, when you look at me, I think you want me to tear your dress off and fuck you so hard, you’ll wake the dead screaming my name.”
A heated flush spreads over my breasts. Am I a game to him, a challenge for him to conquer, the only one who ever said no ?
I should fear him. I should hate him, but some part of my thoughts are under his spell. “So unrelentingly confident.”
His right hand slides around the back of my neck, then into my hair, tangling in my curls. Closing his eyes, he gently brushes his lips against mine, questioningly, his breath mingling with mine.
At the light touch, fire streaks through my blood, and my heart races. He explores my mouth, his lips moving with a slow, sensual intensity. I run my hands over his chest, feeling the hard planes beneath the soft fabric. He deepens the kiss, his tongue finding mine. He tastes like mead with a hint of cloves.
He grips the back of my hair and kisses me harder, claiming me, his tongue stroking mine. Molten warmth plummets through my body. His left hand shifts to cup my ass. Beneath the delicate fabric of the dress, my nipples tighten, aching. The thin, silky material torments my skin.
The sensation of his lips against mine is as powerful as a storm. Oh, gods . I shift my hips, an ache building in my core.
As he breaks the kiss with a quiet moan, he tugs my hair back just a little further, exposing my throat. His mouth claims my throat, his tongue marking me with heated brands where my blood pulses. An uncontrollably fiery need builds inside me, and all I can think about is him sliding his hand up the hem of my dress, touching me where I’m slick with heat. I know exactly how amazing it would feel to have his hands on me where I need them.
He lifts his head, his eyes heavy-lidded as he meets my gaze. I’m breathing quickly, my chest flushed and my heart racing. He knows how turned on I am. He can hear my heartbeat, see the flush over my skin. The truth is painfully clear.
Only now do I realize that my fingers are gripping the soft fabric of his shirt.
Talan licks his lips, his gaze shifting over my shoulder.
“I think now is our moment,” he whispers in my ear, his breath warm against my skin. “Aedan is watching.”
The mission.
Of course.
I inhale sharply, dragging myself back from the depths of desire.
I pull away from him and stand. My nipples are hard against the fabric of my sheer gown, but a Fey wouldn’t feel a moment’s self-consciousness about it, so I try not to think about it, either.
Sliding his hand in mine, Talan leads me to Lord Aedan’s table. The lord stands as we approach. “Your Highness,” he says, raising a glass of mead to us. “I’m so honored to have you here this week.”
Eithne does not stand. “Hello,” she says cooly, staring daggers at me.
Talan rests his hand on the small of my back. “Lord Aedan, may I introduce my wife, Princess Nia de Morgan?”
“Princes Nia, I’ve heard so much about you, and now I’ve seen it with my own eyes—the only woman in the kingdom who can make the prince truly smile.” He takes my hand and presses his cold lips to it.
“Charmed.” While his fingers are touching mine, I unleash my powers.
Pain shoots through my skull, nearly blinding me, but I grit my teeth and power through it, diving into Lord Aedan’s mind.
And nearly lose myself inside it.
Aedan is ancient, and his mind is infinitely more complex than most, sucking me deeper and deeper inside its labyrinth. This happened to me once before, long ago, when I touched the mind of Caradoc, a Fey mage. Back then, it caught me by surprise, and I couldn’t find my way out. But this time, I resist the vortex of confusing thoughts, emotions, and fantasies. Skirting the edges, I try to find a way to influence it, but it’s like trying to push against an oncoming ocean wave. There’s nothing for me to grip and use. The only clear need that I can recognize is that Aedan is quite tired and hasn’t slept well in centuries. But when I search for anything deeper, I get pulled into the dangerous whorls and eddies of his thoughts. I can’t do it. I can’t control him.
I pull my magic away, breathing hard, my head throbbing.
“Are you alright, Princess?” Aedan frowns at me.
I realize I have his hand in mine, and I’m crushing it.
“Yes, just a bit dizzy.” I let out a delicate laugh. “The mead here is much stronger than I’m used to. Thank you for steadying me.”
Aedan puffs out his chest, beaming at Talan. “I’ve been telling your father for years. The mead in the palace could be so much better if he’d only let me supply it.”
Talan flashes him a charming smile. “Ah, Aedan. Your mead is, of course, exceptional, but in Perillos, we have a refined palate and don’t require strong mead to make our women agreeable.” He lifts his glass in a toast. “Some of us rely on charm, but of course, you always did have unusual tastes, didn’t you? Your predilections might require more coaxing.”
As Aedan stares at us, open-mouthed, Talan guides me away again, his hand resting against my lower back.
When we reach a quiet corner, I turn to face him, draping my arms over his broad shoulders and brushing the back of his neck with my fingers We need to look like lovers whispering.
He lowers his head until our mouths are inches apart. “What happened?”
I’m pressed tightly against his steely chest, feeling his heartbeat through his clothes. I turn my face up to his. “I couldn’t make him do it. In fact, I couldn’t even read his mind. It’s too complex. I can’t find any way to motivate him.”
“Motivate him?” His hand slides down my spine in a slow caress. “Nia, I’ve seen you make a noble confess all his dirty little secrets. What’s so complicated about Aedan?”
The warmth of his muscular body washes over me. “Ker-Ys was simple. I used his fear of you to push him, and he confessed because I made him think you already know everything. He thought confessing was his only choice, but Lord Aedan…I can’t understand his thoughts enough to influence them. All I can tell you is that he’s been sleeping badly. I don’t think he’s slept well in centuries, which I’m guessing is because of you. But that’s hardly a reason for him to confess to you. I’m sorry, Talan. I’m not sure there’s much I can do.”
“I can’t move forward without him.” Talan’s muscles go tense against me. “You’ll have to try again.”
I tilt my head up, my lips grazing over his strong jawline. He lets out a quiet sigh.
“It won’t help,” I whisper, “and it might end up with me being swallowed by his thoughts, permanently insane. Do you really want to explain to Lord Aedan why your wife has become a gibbering mess after touching him?”
“Let me think.” His hand moves lower. Idly, his thumb traces my hipbone, sending shivers of heat over my body, each lazy stroke skimming the sensitive skin beneath my diaphanous gown. “You said he’s tired, so you know one thing he craves. Can you make him go to sleep?”
I bite my lip, thinking, and his gaze drops to my mouth, his eyes darkening into something dangerous.
“I think so,” I whisper, “but won’t it look suspicious if he suddenly falls unconscious?”
“Not here.” Talan’s warm hand on my hip sends distracting heat licking down my body. “We’ll surprise him in his room. You get him into a deep sleep and destroy his defenses. Then, with your help, I’ll step into his dreams. If I stand close enough, I’ll be able to sculpt his dreams and use them. And once I manage it, I’ll be able to carve a permanent way for me to do it again in the future. That way, I can slowly get him under my influence.”
I don’t answer. Over Talan’s shoulder, I see the two figures step into the hall, their capes blood-red slashes against the dimly lit space. My blood runs cold. It’s Maertisa and Vidal, the only two people in the kingdom who can recognize me.
Cold dread crashes over me. They cannot see me. They are two of the most dangerous captains in Auberon’s army. They’ve met me before, and they know I’m a Knight of Avalon. I was standing right next to Raphael when they captured him.
The question is, what would Talan do if they screamed out the truth about me?
Talan is whispering something to me now, but my thoughts are in a panicked haze, and I can hardly focus on his words.
I’m looking past his bicep, watching as the twins walk closer to us. My heart slams against my ribs.
I need to hide my face.
“Nia? Are you ready to do this?” Talan asks.
I look up into his dark eyes and push him down into a seated position in an alcove, then straddle him.
He arches an eyebrow. “Didn’t get enough before, did you?”
The air between us grows sultry, swirling with heat. I cup his face, pulling him in for a kiss. His lips meet mine, pressing me against the hard steel of his chest. Slowly, his hands stroke the length of my spine.
He kisses me fiercely, claiming me, and I drape my arms around his neck. With every stroke of his tongue, I grow hotter, my desire coiling more tightly. Moaning slightly, I shift my hips against him, and liquid desire plunges into my belly. I’m overwhelmed by the delicious warmth and the teasing friction of his body against mine.
Slowly, I pull away from the kiss, breathing rapidly. He’s cupping the side of my face now, his thumb stroking my cheek. He stares deeply into my eyes with a hungry expression, and his eyes lower to my lips. A muscle ticks in his jaw, and I have the sense that he’s wrestling with restraint as much as I am.
“You really are playing the part well, aren’t you, Princess?” he whispers.
I lick my lips. “Just keeping up my part of the bargain.”
“You’re very good,” he murmurs, “at being convincing.”
I swallow hard and glance around. The twins have wandered off to another part of the party.
It’s time for us to move.
“Aedan’s attention is elsewhere,” I whisper. “Let’s get out of here now and wait for him in his chambers.”
I slide off his lap and smooth my dress, trying to collect my thoughts.
“And just when you were starting to get interesting.” He takes me by the hand, leading me away again.
The memory of his kiss is seared onto my lips, and I press them together. Whether it’s the aphrodisiac in the air or the magic of his kiss, I can’t tell. But one thing is clear: his allure isn’t just a distraction. It’s an addiction.
And I have no idea how I’m supposed to walk away from it.