Chapter 44
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
MORGANA
I wasn’t sure how long I remained in the observatory car, nor did I keep track of how many glasses it took to finish off the wine, but every nerve on my body buzzed as I twirled around the room. I eventually bounced into the next cart in search of food or drink but only found placating servants and two bunches of grapes. I ate the grapes, no doubt, but I craved something sweet. Chocolates, or perhaps pastries with lemon custard in the center. Oh, yes. That sounded divine.
I had shed my boots in the lounge area, my feet padding softly against the plush carpet as I moved into the next cart. The swaying motion of the train lulled me into a state of contentment. Each corridor seemed to stretch endlessly, but my mind was stuck on those lemon pastries I’d imagined. Eventually, I’d journeyed into the carts I’d never reached before. I jumped to a halt when two guards turned their gaze with a disapproving frown, holding up their hands in unison to keep me from moving past them.
“You are not permitted beyond this entry point, Lady Kyllingham.”
Ah, so a lady and a captive? How polite. I crossed my arms and cocked my head. “Why?”
The guards exchanged an uneasy glance before one of them cleared their throat. “Orders from the crown. No one is to pass beyond this point without express permission.”
“And if I have express permission?” I asked, lying through my teeth. They merely blinked, and I huffed out in frustration. I tapped my foot before twisting to retreat back into the lounge car. It was when the train door opened that I stopped.
“She can come in.”
I would have almost missed it if it weren’t for the way Aster’s words all but enveloped me. I wondered if he was using the shadows to emphasize his invitation, but when I glanced at the fragmented darkness frozen on the floor, I doubted it. Aster’s shadows were far more dramatic, from what I’d seen.
Far more lethal too.
I twisted around and grinned ear to ear at the guards. “I told you. Express permission.”
And as I ventured between their two wide frames, past Aster as if I had any business going into this area of the train, the pride swelled in my chest. Any faux confidence was swallowed right up when I caught sight of the glistening, golden filigree that accented the walls and bookshelves. I was puzzled at first, unsure how the books hadn’t yet fallen off the open shelves, but as I walked deeper into the car, I saw translucent, glistening barriers pressed flesh against them like a glass door. I almost approached it to touch the magic that protected the books, but when my attention transitioned over the maps scattered across a table, the bar cart with the finest of liquors and wines, and enough fruit to satisfy a small village, I saw something that was positively divine. Lemon tarts.
I gasped, scurrying over and taking one to nibble on. When I turned, Aster was watching me with a large, feline smirk. “Erynna has delectable taste in wine, does she not?”
“I must start taking notes,” I said with a nod, finding the nearest chair and taking a seat. “Is this where you hide away when we are not training?”
Aster’s smirk softened into a subtle smile as he poured himself a glass of deep red wine. The shadows seemed to dance playfully around him, complementing the softness of his expression. “You could say that. There are no servants or guards here. It allows me a bit of peace. Erynna’s cart is before this one, so it allows me to be as far away from the madness as possible.”
“She had no guards outside her door?” I asked, recalling the locked doors but no men on staff.
“Erynna prefers they keep her company inside the room. Either that, or she doesn’t prefer them at all.”
“Is that why you didn’t let the guards shoo me off, Aster? So you could have company?”
He lifted his glass in cheers. “Well, if you’re not slapping me around, we’re laughing. I’d consider that fun enough.”
I watched as the dark markings poked out from his gloves, swirling under his sleeve before bleeding out of his collar. It was no more opaque than mist on a foggy morning, but it tickled me with curiosity. “Can I ask you something?”
Aster inclined his head in a silent invitation. I watched as he leaned against the narrow table stocked with empty glasses and a few books.
“What do your shadows say to you?” I asked. “You speak about them as if they are sentient, and I must admit, it seems like they have a mind of their own whenever I call on them. Well, the few times I have successfully done so.”
Contemplation shadowed his stare, and he swirled his glass of wine as he considered his words. “They are… well, they are both part of me and something separate. Sometimes they gossip and tell me lies. Other times they are the only reason I walk out of a situation alive. They are a friend, and they are my foe.”
I leaned forward, my interest piqued as I put all too much effort into holding my focus. The lemon tart lay forgotten in my hand. “Have they ever wronged you?”
“Oh, many times.”
I smiled, warmth bubbling in my chest. “Tell me. When was the last time they played tricks on you, Aster?”
Aster beheld me, eyebrows furrowed as he moved closer. Eventually, he sat in the chair next to me, setting his glass on the table. Mindlessly shifting the maps around, he said, “How much wine have you had tonight, Morgana?”
“At least three.” I took his glass, bringing it to my lips with a wicked smirk. “This would make four.”
Aster watched as I took a sip. “Something tells me you are up to far more trouble tonight than my shadows.”
I rolled my eyes and set down the glass back in front of him. “Stories, now. There is not much else to occupy myself with.”
“It is rather dull, isn’t it?” he said, sighing and bracing his forearms on the edge of the table. “They tell me white lies all the time. They are like these little voices. They can be quite violent, mind you, but when they are playing nice, it’s nothing more crazy than what you’d hear walking down the street with the Ton.”
I crossed my arms on the table, leaning my chin atop my hands. “You have my attention, Prince Aster.” My words were smooth, curling into one another and far too incoherent. “They can be violent?”
“Quite.” His smile faltered, and he lowered his gaze to the maps beneath his arms. “This is a curse, after all. A plague. If I go too long ignoring their requests, they attack me. I am their vessel, so they know better than to kill me, but they can scar. That is rare.” My eyes flickered to the shadows tucking out of his gloves, watching how they bounced off his skin in response to his words. “Most of the time, they try to rouse reactions out of me like a child or old friend. White lies, like I said. Tempting ones, if I might add.”
I cocked my head, resting my ear along the flat side of my forearm. “Mine don’t do that. I think yours just don’t like you.”
Aster chuckled. The sound echoed throughout the train car, a glint of amusement shining in his crimson eyes. “They have twisted humor, I suppose.”
The air shifted, his markings that had clung to his skin stirring restlessly, as if they were reacting to our conversation. I lifted my head with a slack jaw, watching as he winced and shook his head. “What are they saying?”
“Nothing good,” he said and lifted his glass to take a sip. “Gossip. Taunts.”
“Are they talking about me?” I asked, a wave of newfound confidence turning my cheeks red. The wine had loosened my tongue—but I’d already kissed him. There wasn’t fault in a bit more shameful banter. What else was there to do at night on a train going through the middle of nowhere?
He held my attention, weighing his words carefully. “They might be.” The hint of a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. “They do find you intriguing, little dove.”
Leaning in closer, a playful twitch in my smile challenged him further. “What do they say about me?” I watched him lift his glass to his lips again, the red liquid living behind a stain that he swiped with his tongue. Oh, gods. Why did I come back here? He’d just reaffirmed earlier today that our shadows teased each other. Now here he was, telling me just how tempting they could be.
I was a fool.
“They’re warning me about your sharp tongue.” Aster cleared his throat. He gave me a once-over before he stood and retreated to the bar cart. I tried not to acknowledge the warmth pooling low in my belly, or how it burned my cheeks.
I only hoped he couldn’t tell.
He remained far away, and I grew bored again. I sighed, finished off my drink, and stood. I started to dance around the room, twisting my way to anything I could get my hands on. The blankets draped over the old couches were grazed by the tips of my fingers. The paintings, glistening and textured, were subjected to my curious, glittering stare. By the time I’d swirled back to the snacks, I stole a grape and popped it into my mouth.
When I’d twisted to face Aster, he was already watching me with this stupid look on his face. I cleared my throat, clasping my hands together at my torso, and choked on my laugh.
Well, technically I almost choked on the grape. Fortunately, I swallowed past that.
“Please,” he said. “Do not stop on my account.”
I smiled. Taking a step closer, I held out a hand for the prince. “We’ve danced once before, Prince Aster. Shall we try again?”
After a brief moment of hesitation, he placed his hand in mine, letting me lead him to the center of the room. The soft golden light from the lanterns above cast a warm glow over us as we began to sway to a melody only we could hear. The shadows emphasized his features in this haunting dance, and I couldn’t help but gaze at him. It was his eyes that truly engrossed me. Up close, the swirls of raven ink against stark, crimson red were mesmerizing.
His movements were controlled and elegant, matching the regal demeanor he always carried. I couldn’t help but notice the way his eyes softened slightly as we swayed. A comfortable silence settled between us, broken only by the sound of our footsteps against the plush carpet.
“Your shadows have scarred you?” I asked quietly, circling back to the conversation he’d escaped moments prior.
Aster cocked his head. He twirled me before coiling me back to his chest, leading the dance in a way far too gracefully for my drunken feet. I broke out into a fit of giggles, resting one hand on his chest to steady myself. When I danced with Atlas, it was wild and hard to follow. This was comfortable. Aster wasn’t trying to startle me. “Did you trap me in this dance to pry further?”
“Did you expect otherwise?”
“No, I did not,” he said, sighing and lifted his chin so he could look at the wall behind me. “They have, yes. A handful of times.”
I frowned. I knew that agony too well—to be scarred by the things we trusted the most. Though, I had my doubts that Aster trusted his shadows. Truly trusted, at least. “That sounds rather brutal, does it not?”
His attention returned to my face, and he smiled softly. “No more brutal than a fate of death, little dove. My scars are merely part of me. You’ve seen them, in fact. They are living, breathing things.” My eyes widened. “The markings on my hand are all over. I haven’t always looked this way.”
I eyed the dark marks that breathed against his skin, just barely poking out of the neckline of his shirt. My hand on his chest inched higher, curling the collar so I could see more of it. “Yours are rather beautiful.”
Aster merely grimaced, shaking his head. “They are haunting.”
My hands danced across the edges of his markings, wishing mine looked anything like this. Mine were ugly, mangled—a testament to the torture my brother and I escaped. “They’re a part of you, just as mine are part of me.”
Aster gently took my hand in his, halting my pursuit and forcing my attention back to his face. “Truly, Morgana. I am sorry for making you revisit those horrible things that happened to you.”
“Oh, hold on,” I said with a small laugh. “You didn’t make me revisit everything. Unfortunately, those nightmares live with me day in, day out.” Something pulled within me, and his hold on my hand tightened. “We both carry our own burdens.”
Aster beheld me. There was no cynical judgment, no wall that got taller and taller with every passing second. This was Aster—not the crown prince, not my captor. He was simply a damaged man who related to my scars too. I didn’t know if it was the wine, but the allure was… it was unyielding.
It had nothing to do with the shadows that taunted us. For once, I saw him for who he was. Not who he had been molded to be.
“You are remarkable,” he breathed. “Scars and all.”
I paused. My cheeks burned, and my vision blurred as his words lingered in the air around us. “Now, Aster. You can’t say that. You’ve never seen my scars.”
“I can, and I did.”
An unfamiliar flicker stirred within me, the warmth blooming despite the hatred that was ebbing farther and farther away the more time I spent with him. He was perplexing. A monster by all rights, but I struggled accepting that at face value. If he were a monster, I would be dead.
Or worse. I would want to die. And neither was the case.
I lowered my gaze and smiled shyly. “Well, should you ever be so unfortunate to see them, I will hold you to that.”
His hand shifted from my waist to the small of my back. “I’d be fortunate to see every part of you, little dove. This is not the life I would want for you, but considering the twisted path fate has us going down, I am lucky it is with you.”
I closed my eyes. These words were too kind, too sweet and tempting. For a moment, I doubted it was Aster I was speaking with. Instead of fighting it, I leaned forward to rest my head on his chest and listened to the only thing that made him undoubtedly mundane . His heart thrummed against my ear, slow and steady, powerful and everlasting.
His other arm wrapped around me, and for a long while, we swayed just like that. No words. No questions. When his hands braced my shoulders and tore me from my reverie, I looked up at him.
“It is time for rest, is it not?” he asked quietly.
My lips parted. I wasn’t sure why, but the idea of going back to my room was not ideal. It was scary, in fact. The breath hitched in my throat and I twisted away from him, walking toward the bar cart and humming. “I’m not tired.”
“Truly?”
I was. “I’m not!”
Aster was quiet for a while as I pretended to study the array of food, my fingers picking at the skin of my palm. I heard his feet shuffle across the room and the gentle clatter of glass. When curiosity gnawed at me, I turned just enough to catch him pouring two cups of tea. His broad shoulders were tense, the lines of his back straight through the tight shirt. When he faced me, I twisted away. He approached and handed me a cup. I accepted it, allowing him to guide me to the sitting area. He set his down before taking all of the pillows, setting them on the ground, then the blankets.
I watched in awe. He sat on the pile, grabbed his drink, and propped himself up against the table’s edge. After sipping, his eyes widened before wildly gesturing for me to join him. I chuckled beneath my breath and did, my back against the edge of the sofa and my legs curled beneath me.
“When my sister and I could not sleep, we’d make these elaborate forts. We’d tell stories, read, study. Do whatever it was that would occupy us until one of us gave in and fell asleep.”
I lowered my focus to my teacup and smiled, watching the steam mist off the top. “When my brother and I were traveling to Verdantis, we’d do anything to make our shelter feel more like home. Small things like that do wonders to keep time ticking by.”
Aster paused. He leaned forward a hair and said, “We will find your answers, Morgana. I owe you that, at the very least.”
Slowly capturing his eyes again, my face was a straight line. My eyes glistened, and the hope swelled within my chest and threatened to blow. “Do you think he’s alive?”
The question sliced through the air. Aster didn’t flinch. He merely held my gaze. “Anything is possible.”
I swallowed the lump in my throat and nodded once. Perhaps it was time to sleep. Perhaps I’d had too much wine and eased up too much in the presence of Prince Aster. As if he felt this silent, unspoken confession, his expression softened, and he set down his tea.
“Part of my training was spent inside of Vespera. Learning to survive off the darkness alone. I saw things. People who preferred life within the realm—pirates, mostly, but it’s entirely possible, Morgana. I promise you.”
My lips twitched into a sad smile. “Thank you. You know, you’re making this whole monstrous villain thing harder to believe every day.”
“That can be changed.” Aster’s voice was riddled with glee, and I reached over to pluck some of the fuzz off the blanket. “My shadows have a nasty habit of living up to their reputation.”
I sucked in a breath. “Tell me,” I pleaded. “Tell me more about what your shadows say about me.”
I knew I was playing with fire, but I was curious. My heart raced, and I prayed he couldn’t sense the truth. I wondered how much of this was the wine and how much was my own body betraying me. I was curious, tempted to taste how dangerous the shadow-cursed prince could be. I hated it, but I couldn’t help myself. I craved the heat that came with his touch and the taste of his lips, however brief I’d felt them. At the very least, the tease would distract me from the harsh reality I was forced to live through.
He exhaled, and I swore I saw his shadows swell as if they were breathing with him. “I would be a fool to entertain such things, little dove.”
I thought I saw him glance at my mouth, but I dismissed it. It was probably the wine, the low lighting, or something equally as ridiculous. I tilted my head, biting my lip. “You know, Aster, I find it strange that you have no problem with me trying to kill you, yet you are hesitant to speak about a few silly little secrets.”
Aster’s focus lingered on my lips for a moment, his jaw clenching. “There are some secrets that should remain buried, Morgana. They have a way of unraveling even the most carefully laid plans.”
I sighed, shifting onto my knees so I could lean toward him. “That’s awfully cryptic of you, Prince Aster. I’m almost convinced you’ve got something to hide.”
He scoffed, shaking his head. “It is not that. I am trying to be considerate of your feelings.”
“Considerate?” I laughed. “My feelings were a question you threw out weeks ago. So entertain me.” I stopped dancing by myself long enough to stop in front of him and lean down ever so slightly. “Tell me what your shadows say about me. I beg.”
Aster’s eyes trailed over my face, hesitating at my lips before he shifted to face me fully.
“You truly wish to know?” he asked. When I nodded, he leaned in to close the distance and whisper in my ear. My eyes widened at first before fluttering shut, his breath hot against my skin. “They tell me you taste sweeter than the finest of wines. They’ve lied to me and said you call out my name at night, that you desire... me.”
I pulled back slightly, meeting his intensity, defiance and something unspoken lingering in the air between us. “Is that so?” I murmured.
Aster’s eyes held a primal glint, a hunger that mirrored my own. His thumb brushed lightly against my lower lip, the touch sending shivers down my spine. “They speak half-truths and twisted fantasies, Morgana. Do you wish to know more?”
Every instinct screamed at me to step back, to put distance between us, but I found myself rooted to the spot, unable to tear my eyes away from him. “Yes.”
There was this unfathomable silence that bounced between us as he chewed on his words. I hadn’t realized how close he’d gotten until his breath was fanning across my lips. Until the marks on his skin had swirled around my wrists in this cool embrace. “They crave your touch, Morgana, as much as I do. They vow that you ache for me.”
His tongue, twisted and tantalizing, spoke the same language as me, but the words were obscene. Foreign. Every bone, muscle, nerve was on fire. I shook my head slowly, the tips of our noses brushing against one another. “Terrible little lies, aren’t they?” I fibbed.
As his thumb traced the curve of my jaw, I couldn’t deny the pull I felt toward him, the inexplicable connection that seemed to grow stronger with every passing moment. The shadows on his skin seemed to writhe and pulse, almost like they were responding to the tension building between us. “Terrible.”
Then, with a suddenness that stole the air from my lungs, Aster closed the distance between us. His lips captured mine in a searing kiss that ignited a blaze within me. It was wild and untamed, as if all the pent-up desire had finally found relief. I melted against him, my hands finding their way to his chest after hastily setting down the teacup. The steady thrum of his heartbeat grounded me. I tasted the sweet wine on his tongue, savoring every moment.
When he finally pulled away, my eyes fluttered open to find him staring at me with a look of pure, unadulterated lust. It was intoxicating, seeing him so undone.
Aster cleared his throat, running a hand through his hair. “You must excuse me, I?—”
Before he could finish the sentence, I pressed my lips to his once more, silencing him.
My fingers trailed up his chest and tangled in his hair, pulling him closer. Aster’s control wavered as he responded to the fervor of my kiss, his hands finding purchase on my waist as he deepened the embrace. The world around us seemed to fade into insignificance, leaving only the sensation of his lips, my lips, and our hastened gasps.
It was a tangle of tongues, hands, and teeth, a fight for dominance that left us both breathless. My skin tingled where he touched me as if he were branding me with his touch. His kisses. I never wanted it to end. His other hand reached for the back of my neck and pulled me away with this fierce rasp to his tone as he said, “Morgana, we cannot.”
“Why not?” I whimpered and grappled my fingers into his hair. “This... this torment will not end. Give in.”
Aster’s jaw clenched, the sharp edges of his features tensing. “I am trying to do what is right for you. What is best.”
“Kiss me,” I breathed, my lips inches from his.
The word was barely out of my mouth before Aster’s lips crashed against mine again, his hand fisting my hair. His lips trailed along my jawline and down my neck. I tilted my head back, giving him better access, reveling in the feel of his tongue on my skin.
I gasped as he nipped at the sensitive skin, goosebumps erupting across my flesh. My eyes fluttered shut, my body responding to his touch. My heart raced, my breath coming in short, ragged bursts as his hand slipped beneath the hem of my shirt and grazed the skin of my stomach, my hip—then, my back.
I tensed. His fingers had just barely traced the ridges and valleys of my scars—the sunken skin that crisscrossed my back like a tapestry of pain. His touch lingered over the marks, his fingers gentle against the roughness of my skin. I held my breath, unsure of what he might say or do next.
His hands drifted up one of the ridges, all the way to the space between my shoulder blades. Then, the cool brush of his shadows followed, as if chasing after him. As if he were in control—which, of course, he was.
It was I who did not know that control.
My back arched, my head dipping back, the sensation eased the scolding heat of his presence. Of the embarrassment that ruined my cheeks. He guided me as he laid down on the blankets so I was straddling him. I braced my hands on either side of his head so I could lean down and kiss him, his fingers dancing delicately across my back. His shadows tailed his every move, a tribute to the pleasure I’d envisioned nights prior.
Aster groaned as my hips rolled against his, his hands gripping my waist to steady me. I could feel his arousal through the fabric of our clothing.
The shadows danced over my back, teasing me, tempting me. My hands roamed his body in this heady rush, knowing I could affect him so strongly, that I could draw such a reaction from him.
The crown prince of Verdantis just moaned beneath me. That was power. I smiled at the thought.
He broke the kiss and stared up at me, his eyes dark with desire. His hair was mussed, his lips swollen from our kisses. I had never seen anything more beautiful. He lifted a hand to push some hair behind my ear.
He sat up, our chests pressed against one another. He unbuttoned his shirt halfway to reveal more of his chest, to expose the raven ink markings that marred his flesh. That danced and swirled wildly in response to our fervent pursuit.
I watched as he unbuttoned the last before slipping the shirt off past his elbows. I reached my fingers to delicately trace the shadows. They marked his entire body, starting from the center of his chest, spiraling down his toned abdomen, and branching off toward his back. Beneath them were true scars. Pale indented lines that sang songs of pain.
I leaned down to kiss the center of his chest, where his shadows originated.
And then I kissed up to his collarbone, wrapping my arms around his bare torso to hug him. He did too, and I closed my eyes.
His lips pressed against my cheek, nose, and then he stole another selfish one from my mouth. He hadn’t so much as laughed to break the silence, but I shimmied off him and sat on my knees. He braced his forearms on the ground beneath him, watching in silence.
I grabbed the hem of my blouse, my hands trembling. I closed my eyes—if he saw me as disgusting, at least he did so before I grew more attached.
Before we made a grave mistake.
“You don’t need to do something you do not wish to do, little dove.”
I breathed out, shaking my head and twisted around so my back was to him. With a final exhale, I pulled the blouse over my head, the soft material brushing against my skin before I tossed it aside. I reached behind to unfasten the knot that held my corset laces together, but I flinched when his fingers ghosted over my exposed skin, tracing the pattern of scars. Then, I felt his lips pressing a feather-light kiss to the space between my shoulder blades.
The action was so tender, so unexpected that I had to bite my lip to keep from crying. Aster continued his ministrations, kissing and caressing every inch of my scarred flesh as he grabbed my hand to stop me from untying the laces. It was overwhelming to be shown such care and affection. I’d never experienced anything like it before.
With his touch, I was transported to a world where I wasn’t broken, damaged goods. A world where I was worthy of being loved.
I was grateful that he couldn’t see my face. I was a mess of nerves and yearning, flustered need.
Aster’s fingers deftly untied the laces of my corset, freeing me from its confines. He placed another kiss between my shoulder blades before trailing his lips down the length of my spine, his touch scorching my skin.
Aster wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me close, his lips brushing against my ear. “Morgana…”
I turned around, his finger moving along my jaw, down my neck, and over my collarbone.
He leaned in, his lips hovering over mine as he whispered, “Remarkable.”
It was a simple word. A repeated emphasis of our confession earlier, but it swelled in my chest and made me smile ear to ear. He took a moment to pause, leaning back and dancing his focus all across my face.
I could feel the blush creeping up my cheeks, my heart pounding in my chest. I was not used to such attention, and the words felt foreign to me.
Aster’s eyes softened and he leaned in, his lips meeting mine in a slow, languid kiss. It was different from the others—there was a tenderness, a reverence to it that I’d never felt before. He removed the corset without haste, gripping onto my waist. I was lost in a haze of pleasure as he worshiped my body, his shadows caressing every other part of my skin that he could not hold. I wrapped my arms around his neck and melted into him, allowing him to hold me up.
I shuddered as he touched the scars on my back, his lips moving to my neck. I bit my lip, arching into his touch, my own fingers tangling in his hair. I needed more, more, more.
We fell back into the pile of pillows, him on top of me.
Tugging him closer, my thoughts were clouded with desire, his every touch sending jolts of electricity through my body.
I called to my magic, the foreign warmth burning at the tips of my fingers as I dug my nails into his back. My own shadows ebbed off my fingers, slow and careful, before mingling with his. He gasped, lips parting against mine. I could feel the bond between us strengthening, the connection growing stronger with every passing moment.
My other hand slid down his chest, dancing over the hardened planes of his abdomen and lower, until they brushed against the edge of his trousers.
Aster let out a low groan, his body tensing as I traced the outline of his arousal. His hand snaked up my thigh, his touch leaving a trail of fire in its wake. I squirmed beneath him, a needy moan escaping my lips as he cupped my breast, rolling the sensitive peak between his fingers.
I ached for relief. I could feel my own desire pooling between my thighs, my body begging to be filled.
He nipped at my bottom lip, tugging it between his teeth. My body trembled as his fingers trailed lower, lower, lower. With a new wave of confidence, I dipped beneath his trousers as he swirled patterns across my abdomen. When I grabbed hold of him, I could feel his whole body shudder in response. He hissed, my hand wrapping around his length and stroking.
He bit down on my lip, sucking on it with a groan, his fingers digging into my hip. He seemed to lose himself in the moment, thrusting into my hand. I rubbed my legs together, but he pushed my thighs apart with his knee, keeping me spread open for him.
I writhed at the idea of pleasure as he unfastened the button that held my pants together, slipping a hand between my legs. His lips moved to my neck, kissing at my skin, sending shivers down my spine.
“I spent years defying this type of need,” he hissed into my ear as I stroked him, tightening my hold and gasping as he all but teased my cunt with his fingers. “You make me forget who I am.”
I found myself unable to formulate any response as he drew lazy circles around the apex of my thighs.
“Tell me you want this, little dove. Tell me you want me,” he growled, nipping at my ear, his shadows swirling around us in a frenzy.
I gripped his shoulder, my nails digging into his flesh as he finally gave in and plunged a finger inside of me.
“I want you,” I gasped, my breath catching in my throat as he added another digit. The pressure built inside of me as he pumped his fingers in and out, in and out. “Please, I want you.”
Aster captured my lips in a searing kiss, adding another digit and obeying the commands of my body. His shadows dipped beneath the surface of my pants too, and when they found the sensitive bundle of nerves at my center, I cried out against his skin. He was everywhere, his scent, his taste, his touch. It was all too much and not enough at the same time. I melted against him, desperate for release as he brought me closer to the edge.
My magic flared to life as he continued his pursuit. I could feel the tendrils of my shadow magic reaching out to his, weaving themselves together. His magic created the sort of friction I never could have imagined against my clit, and he made space to watch my lips part when curled his fingers into me.
He regarded me with half-lidded eyes, his pupils blown wide with desire. He was beautiful.
“Aster, please,” I whispered beneath unrelenting whimpers. I needed more. All of him. He cocked his head down at me and tutted. Faster, he fucked me with his fingers. I arched my back and gasped, grabbing the pillow behind me to conceal the cries. The guards, they were so close?—
“Let me hear you, Morgana.”
I shook my head, biting down on my lip to stifle the moans. The more I held back, the harder he went.
“Oh, no, little dove. That just won’t do,” he cooed. “Let me hear you.”
I came undone, screaming his name into my arm that flew over my mouth as my climax washed over me, my body shaking with the force of it. The coil in my core unraveled, and I rode out the waves of pleasure as he continued to pump his fingers.
Finally, he pulled his hand away. I watched with bated breath, my cheeks burning. He hummed, a pleased smile spreading across his lips.
I swallowed hard, my eyes never leaving his as he unfastened his trousers and pushed them down his hips. I licked my lips, my mouth turning dry as I watched the markings wrap around his legs—his length too.
Every inch of skin was painted by this curse.
I reached out, trailing my fingers along the curve of his hip.
He lowered himself on top of me, his weight pressing me down into the blankets. I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him, pouring every ounce of emotion into it. I wanted him to feel how much he meant to me, how much he had come to mean to me. I loathed, lusted, and longed for him.
I gasped as he thrust into me. He moved slowly, delicately. His hands were trembling as he danced his fingers across my cheek, a smile painting his lips.
“Are you alright?” he murmured.
I nodded, unable to formulate any words. I was overwhelmed with emotions.
His lips brushed against mine, his movements gentle. He held me like I was the most precious thing in the world.
I clung to him as he rocked his hips, burying himself deeper inside of me. It was almost too much to bear, but I didn’t want it to end. I never wanted to let go of this feeling.
He was whimpering for me. Such a sweet sound, one that I hoped to never forget. I gasped as his hand grabbed hold of my waist, deepening his thrusts and hastening his pace. His shadows cocooned us, branching off toward me and dipping between my thighs. I moaned into his mouth as it swirled, coiling the knot tighter within me.
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, his voice hoarse with need.
I shuddered as his shadows paid mind to whatever part of my body he could not reach.
“Aster,” I gasped, my nails digging into his back. “Please, I want to?—”
“I know what you want.” His shadows tightened around my clit, akin to teeth and tongue and—oh, gods.
His lips captured mine in a bruising kiss. I could feel his body trembling as he thrust in and out, his movements becoming erratic. I held onto him for dear life, my body quivering with ecstasy as he brought me to the edge once more.
“Aster!” I screamed, my back arching as my climax hit me.
I was falling, falling, falling, and he was right there with me. I could feel his body tensing as he chased his own release, his hips bucking against mine. He buried his face in the crook of my neck, his breathing ragged.
We laid there in a heap of sweat and limbs, our hearts hammering against our chests. I wrapped my arms around him, holding him close as our breathing began to even out. My eyes fluttered shut, and for a moment, I cared not about what awaited us tomorrow. None of the lies, the responsibilities. It merely did not matter.
“Thank you,” he whispered against the top of my head. “For everything that you are.”
“Scars and all,” I added quietly, curling my body into him. We stayed like that until I’d drifted off, his arms wrapped around me and his shadows shielding us from the warm candlelight overhead.