Chapter 33
AMAIA
Alaryk was in a strange mood that night, but I thought it was because of the meeting earlier with his council.
Sarkin and Vaedrin had already departed.
It was a lucky happenstance that they’d both been meeting with Elysom’s council when news of the Elthika attack had spread.
They’d come straight from Elysom, and they would be lending support from their own territories to help with our food supply, the crops of which had been decimated during a single night.
There were stores deep underground, of course, that would last months, but next year’s supply was precarious without aid.
So whether Alaryk was in a brooding mood because he was tired or because of the emotional aftermath of the Elthika attack on his people or because of the questions and concerns that Ryak and Nevin’s escape brought forward, I couldn’t be certain.
Likely all three. I didn’t know how he carried it all on his shoulders. How strong he was.
I gave him time alone in the washing room, the trickle of water every now and again my only indication that he was still in there.
But I grew more and more impatient and eventually ducked inside, slipping past the gossamer curtain to find him reclining on the ledge, arms spread out on the stone edges behind him, his head tipped back.
I thought he might be sleeping, his eyes closed, but when he heard the merest whisper of my approaching footsteps, he tipped his head forward to regard me, the burn of his blue eyes spearing me in place.
“I was worried,” I said. “You’ve been quiet. Are you all right?”
I wanted to know what was going on in his head. His expression was…distant.
Maybe…he’d seen through me today. And that made my insides twist.
I opened my mouth. To tell him what, exactly?
I didn’t know. I still had to go home. If I spilled the Dothikkar’s secret plan to someone he viewed as an enemy, what would happen?
To me? To my family? Even though Ryak and Nevin were gone, I had to be careful.
Alaryk wasn’t Dakkari. He was a king of a nation that could decimate my homeland if they so chose.
And for the first time, I understood the Dothikkar’s own fear and paranoia.
I’d seen the might of the Elthika, the strength of the Karag firsthand.
The Dakkari?
We’d never stand a chance against them. All we had as protection was a signed accord between us, rooted in heartstone production.
Which was already flimsy and precarious…as Ryak’s actions had proved.
“Why are you so opposed to me using my magic on you?” Alaryk asked suddenly. Warning pricked my mind. Something was wrong.
My nostrils flared. “I told you. Because I didn’t like how it felt. It felt violating. You inside my mind, your voice filling me up like a water jug. And…”
“And what?”
“And I have good reason to be afraid of you,” I finished. I didn’t know if he’d take offense to the words. He’d confided in me about his actions concerning Kamora. Would he think I was trying to throw them in his face as a weapon?
I might’ve had rare magic…but his was more dangerous and powerful. His could topple kingdoms. What could that same magic do to me? I’d be like moldable clay in his hands.
I couldn’t read how the words landed. He wouldn’t give me that insight. He felt closed to me. Like a book. So different than yesterday, in this same place. A contrast so sharp and stark that I wondered if it had been real.
His eyes raked up my body. “Undress.”
My stomach was curling. I hesitated. “You’re acting strange.”
He stood, wading toward me slowly in the bathing pool, steam curling all around him, making my hair frizz and my clothes dampen. When he reached where I was standing at the edge, his hand touched my ankle, skimming up the side of my leg as I held my breath.
“I want to be inside you if I cannot be inside your mind,” he murmured. My breath hitched, surprising heat unfurling like a bloom within me. “Undress, mariss.”
“What’s wrong, Alaryk?”
“Undress for me,” he purred, reaching up to untie the laces of my trews already, droplets of water running down the material. “I’ll tell you when I’m deep between these pretty thighs. When all I can feel is you. That’s what I want.”
I shivered, biting my lip. When he pulled my trews down, his lips brushed my calf muscle, sensitive beneath the cool press of his kiss.
He trailed his mouth up as I sighed, and I felt his tongue lap behind my knee, making me jolt.
Hesitantly, my hands went to the hem of my tunic and I had it off, stepping out of my trews until I was naked, my bare feet on the stone of the pool’s edge.
Maybe we both needed this, the feeling of connection during intimacy and sex. Maybe I could unravel what was really bothering him when both our walls were down, when it was only sensation and pleasure and heartstone magic between us.
As I stepped into the pool, he returned to his place on the ledge opposite me, sitting back in anticipation.
I could feel the way his crystalline-blue eyes roved over my body, unable to hide the appreciation and desire in his gaze as I waded toward him.
Alaryk’s cock was already hard, poking above the edge of the water. When he saw me watching, he gripped it hard, stroking himself until a bead of pre-come shimmered at his tip.
I pressed my hands to his chest, still feeling uncertain, though the familiar lust and need, running like a current between us, was comforting. My thumb scraped over his nipple, and he hissed with pleasure when it tugged his piercing.
Then he groaned, his hand leaving his cock to pull me against him, squeezing my ass. I felt a thrill go through me. I loved when he got like this, when he acted like he needed me close, when he got possessive with his touch.
He was unashamed of his desires, which allowed my own to feel freed. It made my belly swoop, made me throb between my legs…even though I was wary of his distant mood.
His magic spread over my skin like a body oil, shimmering and thick.
It felt good, warm like a fur wrapped around my shoulders on a wintry day.
My own responded, greeting Alaryk’s in anticipation, in relief.
I was a little greedy, taking some of it for myself because I still felt spent from the Elthika attack, letting it fill the tired places until I was arching against him, until he made me feel strong and desired and whole.
My head dipped. My tongue found his nipple, and I rolled the metal with my tongue. A deep, ragged huff left him.
But then his hand was tangling in my hair and he jerked my head back. Not hard, but firm enough that I gasped, that my neck was exposed, and I looked at him half-lidded, my lips parted.
Alaryk leaned down, keeping my hair taut in his grip, licking and sucking at the column of my throat. His teeth bit my skin, like he wanted to mark me. I didn’t expect to like it, that little flint of pain.
But it made the heat in my belly mutate into an inferno, and my nails dug into his shoulders, leaving half-moons in his flesh, making him groan.
Maybe a little pain wasn’t so bad.
Maybe we would mark each other with it.
Why did I want that?
Why did I feel this rising desperation to claim him in some small way?
But I knew the answer.
I wanted to remember these moments with him. I wanted to remember them when I was back home and missing him…longing for him enough that I would still taste him on my tongue, the jagged pieces of my broken heart aching for him.
Tears pricked the back of my eyes, and I squeezed them tight.
“Tell me,” he whispered. Because of course, I could hide nothing from him. Except maybe my own betrayal.
“This wasn’t meant to happen,” I breathed, my throat bobbing against his mouth as I swallowed. “I wasn’t supposed to find you.”
His magic surged, and I gasped. I could feel it like a little ball inside my chest. Like a seed that would grow. Like a heartstone that would radiate its warmth and light and power until I was glowing.
I gasped when he lifted me—
Then all thought left my mind when he swiftly entered me, his thick cock eliciting a sharp moan.
I became a wild creature, owned and controlled by Alaryk.
I used his shoulders as leverage to ride him, my knees not quite meeting the stone of the ledge because his thighs were as thick and strong as tree trunks.
I was spread wide over him. He only gave me the illusion of control, but really, he was fucking me.
It was fast and desperate. It made my spine tingle, my toes curl. He felt so good inside me, all that metal hitting and sliding deep, making me clench, making me come unexpectedly, like I was a tight string he only needed to pluck. I was his plaything. The control he had over me was shocking.
My cry echoed until it returned back to me off the stone, flooding my ears. His magic was hot, searing. It grew and grew, and I continued to squirm through the pleasure that billowed out from my core.
“I told you I would tell you when I was between these thighs,” he growled. His lips came to my ear, and he bit down on the lobe, making me jolt. He continued to fuck me, bouncing my body, using me as the orgasm never ended. But he didn’t come. Wouldn’t.
“What?” I breathed, words a confusing jumble in my addled brain.
“You’re lying to me, Amaia,” he said. His declaration was punctuated by a sharp snap of his hips. “About everything.”
The words broke through the haze of pleasure. I stiffened, my body falling out of rhythm over his.
“I know you are. Am I so far gone for you that I don’t even care?” he continued, followed by a dark chuckle that made my throat tighten. “I’ll find out what you’re hiding.”
His magic surged.
That was when I felt what I’d felt once before.
His presence, strong and certain and roving, in my mind.
I gasped, bucking off him. He let me slide off him. Shock, disbelief, and betrayal cut through me, mingled with my own guilt as tears welled in my eyes.