16. I Fell Off The Wagon
16
I Fell Off The Wagon
Aliza
D id it matter that our bond was only the manufactured one of Rhodd Anfarwol? Even if we’d had no fae bond at all, just the easy, normal familiarity of the friendship we’d cultivated, I’d still want to kiss him. He was right; the bond was meaningless. It made no difference. I’d want him either way.
For a moment, Idris hesitated, and I thought he might pull away, but then his hand, still beneath my chin, slid to my throat. His thumb swept from my chin to the dip between my collarbones, before his fingers hooked behind my neck.
I barely noticed the sting in my arm as I wrapped it around him, too distracted by the soft nip of his teeth on my lower lip, a request that had them parting for him. When his tongue swept into my mouth, I stopped caring about bonds or murder or blood stains. Nothing mattered but him, and the fact that his touch was like a drug that made me light and fizzy and molten all at once. Did I have the same effect on him? Did I make him feel like he could kiss me forever and never grow tired of it?
Only, he hadn’t kissed me, not since the Fairy Glen. Since then, since that goodbye kiss, I’d been the one to initiate. What if he didn’t want this? What if he just felt sorry for me ?
I broke away, taking a hasty step back. My eyes went at once to the witch’s corpse, and all my blood rushed to my feet. I fumbled for the nearest chair, collapsing into it.
Idris blinked away the haze that clouded his eyes and rushed to the bathroom only to return a moment later with armfuls of supplies. He dropped to his knees before me, once more examining my arm.
“This is the second time I’ve come to your room, only to find you bleeding.” He dipped a cloth into a bowl of water and carefully cleaned the blood from my arm. “If it happens again, I’m going to kill someone.”
“I’ve already taken care of that.” My attempt at humour fell flat, for me at least. Idris chuckled.
“I’m going to assume that this was your first kill?”
I chewed the inside of my lip, pondering. “I don’t know. Part of my job–my old job, I mean–was euthanasia. I’ve helped animals die peacefully when they were too sick or injured to have much quality of life left. I don’t suppose that counts.”
Idris glanced up at me. His eyes were only on me for a second before he resumed his work, but that second carried weight. Understanding. “You have a good heart, Aliza.”
“Thanks.” My voice was barely above a whisper, but I willed strength into it as I continued. “I also killed one of those things that were in the cave, on the way to save you, but this witch was the first-the first person.”
I glanced at her again, averting my eyes quickly.
“My first person was one of the guards at Henangof.” His voice simmered with darkness as, despite the heat of the fire, my skin erupted in goosebumps .
“Henangof? Isn’t that where–”
“It’s where they took you, yes. I killed as many as I could.”
It took me a moment to realise my mouth had fallen open. For whatever reason, I’d assumed he was a seasoned warrior, that spilling blood was in the day-to-day repertoire of fae princes. “Really? That was the first time?”
“The first time I succeeded. As a boy, I was obviously trained in combat, but my father reigned over a peaceful kingdom, and I never saw real action until that day. I’d never killed a person. There were times I wanted to, though.”
“When Taryn died?”
He nodded, studiously avoiding my gaze as he continued to clean my already pristine wound. I bit back the urge to point out that he was merely aggravating it–I didn’t want the contact to stop.
“It was an ambush. I never got the chance to fight, however much I wanted to. And I tried to kill the vampire, too, though I’m not sure that counts as a person.”
“He does,” I insisted.
Idris worked silently for a while. It was only when he opened a jar of green paste that he said, “I’ve been wondering what happened that night, with your undead friend.”
Oh god. This again? He’d asked me the night I left Neath, and I’d avoided giving him a straight answer. Things were different between us now, though. Maybe I should tell him the truth.
I licked my lips, steeling my courage. “I kissed him.”
He’d probably guessed as much by my state of undress, but at my confession, Idris’ hands faltered as he scooped a dollop of paste from the jar. “ I see.”
The tips of my ears heated. “I’d just overheard you talking to Anwir. I was angry and upset and I wanted to be in control of something.”
He smeared the paste over my wound, and a cool, soothing sensation sank into it, easing the sting. “And a starving vampire was the thing you attempted to control?”
Fair point. It hadn’t gone well at all. “Idris?”
He grunted in acknowledgement, but I waited in silence until he looked up questioningly.
“I much prefer kissing you.”
Faint colour bloomed over his pale cheekbones, and though he dropped his gaze, I didn’t miss the smile he tried to hide. He pressed a cloth to my arm, then wound a bandage around and around.
“Now it’s my turn to ask you something personal.”
“Go ahead.”
My guts churned and swirled sickeningly. Did I really want my question answered? Yes, however much I might not like it. Before I could talk myself out of it, I asked, “Was Jane your mate?”
His voice was carefully light as he responded, “What do you know of mates?”
“Not much.” I didn’t want to bring Anwir into this, to reveal that his words had gotten to me, lies or not. “I was reading a book about fae bonds and I came across it.”
“Well, no. Mates are rare, and she wasn’t mine.”
Relief surged through my body like it had broken free of a dam. Before I had time to question why I cared so much, Idris glanced up at me, a line between his brows.
I hadn’t annoyed him with my probing, had I? Time to divert. “Do you think that somewhere out there, I’ve got a mate waiting for me? ”
“All I can say is, I hope he’s patient.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m not done kissing you yet.”
It was my turn to blush. Every brush of his fingers as he finished winding the bandage around my arm sent little zaps of electricity skittering through me. When he was done, when his hands fell away, I was almost disappointed.
“Are you alright?” he asked.
“I’m fine.” I nodded. “What about you? A lot’s happened since the night of the ball. Are you… okay?”
Tension flitted across his face, and Idris rose to his feet, turning his back on me. Somehow, I was standing too, following him as he crossed to the window, bracing his hands on the sill and stared out at the black of night. I hesitated, my hand hovering an inch from his back. Before I could decide what to do with it, he spoke.
“The answer to that question changes based on the day, even the hour. I will never again be the male I once was. I will never be whole, but yes. A lot of the time, I think I am… okay.”
Finally, my hand settled on the curve of his spine. He was tense, but after a moment, he softened. I stepped closer, sliding my arms around his waist and resting my cheek between his shoulder blades. “You haven’t had any more… urges?”
I made it sound so basic, as though he hadn’t wanted to throw himself out of the sky. Idris twisted in my arms, leaning against the sill and pulling me to him. His eyes were soft as they flitted over my face. “You saved my life that night, Aliza. At first, I wasn’t sure that I was glad of your meddling, but now… Now, I am. Now, I think I can be happy. ”
I smiled. “You’re happy?” So what if I didn’t feel it through some stupid bond? It didn’t matter as long as he felt it.
He returned my gesture with a lazy grin. “Alarmingly often.”
“I’m glad. And I’m glad you’re here. What do we do about–” I threw another reluctant look at the shrivelled corpse of my would-be murderer “–the body. We should wake Sage, I suppose?”
Despite his claims that he’d only recently become a killer, I couldn’t shake the suspicion that he’d be more adept at whatever came next than I could ever be. Would I be in trouble? Could stabbing someone with a flesh-decimating dagger be classed as reasonable force? Whatever happened next, having Idris with me made it slightly less terrifying.
“Ah. About that.” He gently extricated himself from my arms and retrieved my robe from the side of the wardrobe, casually stepping over the dead witch as though she was a decorative rug. He draped the garment around my shoulders. “Sage is already awake, and waiting for us, along with Anwir, and I’m afraid we are late.”
“We are? What for?” I’d barely tied my belt and slipped my feet into my slippers when he seized my hand and marched me out into the dark corridor.
“Believe it or not, there was a reason why I stopped by your suite at three in the morning, and it wasn’t only to kiss you. I’m going to assume, based on lunch yesterday, that Anwir has already tried to charm you.”
I opened my mouth to explain that I hadn’t fallen for it, but Idris shook his head, his brisk pace unfaltering. “I need you to say yes.”
“You… what?” I would have stumbled to a halt if his hand hadn’t tightened around mine, guiding me onward .
“Say yes to Anwir. I know it’s a lot to ask, and I would never put this on your shoulders if I had a choice, but this is bigger than any of us.”
I dug my heels in, refusing to take another step. Idris turned to face me, his expression carefully blank.
“What exactly are you asking me to say yes to?” I demanded.
His gaze roved over my face, and he gulped. “Go along with his plan.”
My breath hitched and my hands curled into fists, twisting out of his grip. Hurt punched me in the gut. After all Anwir’s lies, after his plans to use me, Idris wouldn't palm me off on him, would he? “Why would you want me to do that?”
Those kisses we’d shared, did they mean nothing, just like the bond he’d told me to ignore? Had I got the wrong idea about whatever this was between us?
“At lunch, you said you were considering his proposal.”
“He asked me to carry on pretending . That’s all. That’s what I was considering, not a marriage proposal or anything insane like that.”
Was that a spark of hope lighting his tired eyes?
“I thought a part of you still wanted to be queen?”
Had I said that? “I want to help people. That’s all I’ve ever wanted. As queen, I could do a lot of good, but I don’t want to be Anwir’s queen.” I took a tremulous breath. “I don’t want him .”
What was I thinking? Why was I saying these reckless, dangerous things? Was it shock? Adrenaline? There was no other reason I’d disregard the fact that he’d just all but told me to marry his brother, except for the niggling kernel of disbelief lodged inside me. The way he smiled at me, the way he always sought to hold my hand, the way he kissed me… No matter what stupid words came out of his mouth, I did not believe that he wanted me to be Anwir’s queen.
Idris’ chest expanded as he sucked in a breath. “Then tell me what you do want, Aliza.”
You .
Panic flapped in my chest, as frantic as a caged bird. I couldn’t say it. I couldn’t open up like that. Admitting to wanting a kiss was one thing, but I’d never wanted a relationship. It hadn’t been something I’d ruled out forever, just a complete lack of interest in having to squeeze a man into my list of priorities. I didn’t have the time for whatever drama a boyfriend would bring, for the feelings . But now?
I gulped. This was new, and I didn’t know how to handle it, but I had to say something. “I kissed you, didn’t I?”
Ah, yes, an excellent confession, well done, Aliza.
I would have squeezed my eyes shut and willed the ground to swallow me whole, but Idris took a slow but deliberate step closer, forcing me to tip my head back to maintain eye contact instead.
“You don’t want Anwir.”
It was a statement, not a question, but I answered anyway. “No, but—”
My words were cut off as he lunged for me, seizing my face in his hands. My eyes barely had time to widen before his lips claimed mine. My feeble protests died on my tongue, or maybe his, as it swept into my mouth.
Yes .
This was right. This was where I was supposed to be. Everything I wanted. The warm glow of our bond surged, a blinding light, a supernova obliterating everything else inside me. Idris felt it too. I knew it by the desperation with which he clung to me, as though he couldn’t get close enough, couldn’t taste or feel enough of me.
It wasn’t meaningless at all. Far from it. It was everything .
Idris pushed me backwards, his mouth never leaving mine as we stumbled, my back hitting the wall with a muffled, painless thud. Pinned between unyielding cool stone and the insistent, delicious warmth of his body, I arched against him, using the wall as leverage.
His hands abandoned my face, skimming over my shoulder and down to my waist, where they gripped, his fingertips digging into the soft, silk-covered flesh. A possessive gesture, claiming. If he wanted to, he could pin me here and do anything to me, and I’d be powerless to stop him. Those hands, gentle as they were, could hold me still no matter how hard I fought. But fighting was the last thing on my mind.
I clung to his neck as though I could stop him from fleeing when he inevitably came to his senses. As though I needed him exactly where he was, as our tongues fought for dominance and our bodies grappled, unable to resist whatever it was that drove us. The bond? Fate? Carnal lust? I didn’t know, or care. What did it matter as long as his lips were on mine, as long as his hands were on my body?
One of those hands skimmed up my ribs, sliding under the neck of my robe and over my shoulder. The strap of my cami fell away, along with the robe, leaving my skin mind-meltingly bare beneath Idris’ broad hand.
The air simmered. Or was it my skin?
Magic crackled over me, a sharp skittering that robbed me of my breath. I broke the kiss to suck down a gasp just as blue-white light flared. My eyes snapped open. Tiny threads of lightning darted and slid over my chest, throwing the edges of Idris’ face into beautiful relief. His gaze locked with mine, his eyes as soft and heavy as I’d ever seen them.
“It’s alright,” he murmured. “I won’t hurt you.”
“I know.” I held his stare as I arched into his touch, panting at the tiny zaps and crackles darting over me.
I placed my hand on top of his, guiding him down. By the light of his magic, I drank in every detail of his face, of that captivated expression. His pupils blew out, obliterating his pale irises as our hands closed over my breast. Only a thin layer of jersey separated his palm from my peaked nipple, and I pressed into his touch, greedy and shameless.
His massive chest rose and fell with every heavy breath, the warm pulses of air fanning over my face in the most tempting way. I wanted to breathe that air, to steal it and cut it off with another kiss.
Light flared and my breast tightened as a surge of magic pulsed into me. I gasped, my knees all but buckling, but pinned by Idris’ body, I didn’t fall. His lips crashed back to mine, kissing me with renewed urgency as his hand kneaded and squeezed.
God, I wanted more. I wanted him to rip my cami away, exposing me to him. I wanted his mouth, his teeth, his magic, everything he had to give. I wanted it on me, with nothing shielding my skin from his.
He rocked his hips, and I moaned into his mouth as my body spasmed in answer. I wanted him. I wanted him to be mine.
“Idris.” His name was edged with a breathless whimper.
He smiled against my lips. “I want to hear all the sounds you can make,” he breathed, his gaze locking on mine. With one hand still caressing kneading my breast, the other travelled to my belly, slipping inside my robe. Fingertips brushed bare skin, sliding beneath the waistband of my pyjama bottoms at a slow, taunting pace. “I want to see what your face looks like when you fall apart.”
So, there had been no time for me to change out of my blood-stained pyjamas, but there was time for this? Finally, a male with his priorities straight.
My heart crashed against my ribs at a dizzying speed. If that was what he wanted, who was I to deny him this particular education? I wanted him to know. Needed it, almost as much as I needed to know how it would feel to have him break me into pieces.
I hooked my fingers at the nape of his neck, pulling him in for another kiss. My permission.
His hand travelled lower. Lower. The pads of his fingers skimmed over the sensitive, greedy nerves between my thighs.
My knees gave an almighty wobble as my breath seized, trapped and frozen, unable to leave despite my mouth falling open. Idris pulled back just enough to study my face as his fingers slid along my centre, coating themselves in the moisture gathered there.
My breath tremoured out of me.
God. I loved this. Needed it. More of it. Never wanted it to stop.
None of my hookups had ever made me feel like this, as though electricity shimmered in my veins, tautening every nerve, winding them tight. None of them had made me quiver like this, and certainly not with such ease.
One touch and I was already purring.
Idris’ fingers slid back and forth, teasing, gliding around that sensitive spot without ever making direct contact.
My breath, freed at last, sawed in and out. My chest rose and fell, lifting Idris’ other hand with it. He toyed with my nipple through the fabric, each gentle pinch simultaneously tying my muscles into knots while turning them to jelly. All the while, he watched me with lust-misted eyes, his breath as ragged as mine, that hungry, breathtaking gaze as intimate as any touch.
I clung to his neck, trying to pull him closer, but he didn’t budge. I wanted his tongue in my mouth, and his fingers in my body. I wanted to be consumed. I wanted everything, now, but Idris refused to bow to my pressure.
Instead, he dipped a finger into me.
My eyes fluttered back as I cried out, heedless of who might hear. I didn’t care. Didn’t have a fuck to spare for who might sleep nearby, who might stroll along this moonlit corridor. What did any of it matter when Idris was touching me like this?
When my gaze rolled back to his, it was to find him watching me with unabashed desire, those beautiful, pale eyes blackened by greedy pupils. The sight nudged me further into the clutches of madness, as he added another finger and drove it deep into me.
The fullness dragged another moan from me, and I arched my back against the stone as the heel of his hand provided the perfect leverage to grind against.
There was no strength left in my limbs. I was putty, his to mould, and he was intent on twisting and stroking me into something unrecognisable. Something exquisite.
His artistic hand rolled back and forth, those broad, long fingers gliding and circling.
Why was this so quick, almost shamefully so? My blood roared in my ears, all but drowning out my continued whimpers and moans. Heat pooled low in my pelvis, hotter and hotter as the threat of release rose like a glittering wave.
Too soon. I couldn’t. I shouldn’t. I needed–
A flare of blue-white light. A shock of electricity bolted through my nerves, and I exploded, a detonated bomb. My cries rattled around the cavernous space, but I barely heard them. Barely cared, not as Idris strummed every last note from me, until I was a quivering, whimpering mess, still twitching with aftershocks. All the while, his gaze never left my face.
He maintained that eye contact as his fingers slid free. “And now I want to taste you.”
Flames rushed my already too-hot skin as he sucked his fingers clean with the slightest groan. Finally, his eyes fluttered shut. Taking advantage of his distraction, I seized his collar and brought his lips to mine, sweeping my tongue into his mouth. His hands flew to my waist gripping tight enough that I half expected him to hoist me up, leaving my legs free to wrap around him. Why was I wearing anything under this robe?
His mouth dropped to my neck, nudging my jaw to make space. A shiver raced down my poor, limp body as he dragged his tongue over the exact spot Jacques’ fangs had once pierced, leaving twin pin-prick scars, now obliterated by immortality. His lips caressed the sensitive area, as though he could kiss away the invisible mark once and for all.
I lolled my head to the side, exposing my neck to him as my fingers wove into his hair, curling into a fist. Heat was already pooling in my belly again, and my racing pulse picked up speed. Was I really going to let him fuck me in the corridor, where anyone could see?
Yes. Yes, I was .
Idris did not seem to share my conviction. He straightened, a secret smile curving his lips. “Do you have any idea of all the things I want to do to you?”
I was nothing if not an eager student. “No. Show me.”
His smile widened as he leaned in to kiss me again. “Not here. Not tonight. I want to take my time with you, and unfortunately, we’re keeping my brother waiting.”
“I don’t care about your brother,” I panted, half pleading. I didn’t care about anything but this. Him. Us. Especially not when he said things like that.
“Good.” He kissed me again, deep and thorough, but when he broke away, he righted my clothing, covering my shoulder and tightening the belt of my robe which had come loose in the fray. “But as much as I wish it wasn’t the case, we have to go.”
His fingers laced through mine, and despite the thrill of his touch, cold crept over my skin. “Tell me what’s going on.”
The last traces of desire faded from his eyes, replaced with something horribly like fear. “I will. I’ll tell you everything, but not here.”
My mouth went dry. I swallowed, my throat catching. “Lead the way.”