Chapter Eighteen- Brother Dearest #2
Her delicate hand feels weak in my grip compared to Thorne’s but I shake the thought off and guide her to the closest dance floor. A symphony of violins and string instruments sound through the space, reverberating perfectly off of the geometrically sculpted walls designed to enhance the sound.
I guide her around the dance floor with practiced precision taught to me first by Toleus.
He emphasized the importance of fitting in with nobility to get close and get the perfect kill shot.
Morana, though, as the daughter of the head cook, isn’t a target.
I dip her and twirl her around until she laughs and buries her face in my chest with dizziness.
The comfort is noticeable though the contact leaves me longing for someone else.
The someone else in particular eyes me from the corner of the room, Asterin now dancing with Prince Kapron.
Even if he wanted to, Thorne and I couldn’t dance like this.
So close and so publicly. Men sleeping together wasn’t exactly a secret, but the upper class would spit on such an open display of affection between two men.
As far as the court was concerned, Thorne would one day take a wife.
They had no idea of King Dreven’s command of him, that he would kill any woman who dared to try and breed with him.
The thought of Briar that day in the throne room makes my stomach twist. The King has taken great measures to ensure the truth of his wife’s adultery stayed concealed, even if rumors circulated.
He would not confirm them, instead choosing to bask in the rumors that praised him for keeping his wife’s bastard alive.
The song comes to an end and I bow towards Morana, who smiles wide.
I can see her pulse throbbing in her neck, the color in her cheeks.
She wants me to proposition her and take her to my bed.
She bites at her bottom lip and bats her eyes, but nothing in me finds it enticing tonight.
I feel Thorne watching us; I feel that string between us pulling taut.
Of course, the sound of him moaning my name crawls through my consciousness and reminds me of the scars he left on my back.
“Thank you for the dance, Miss Darkcrow,” I say by way of dismissal.
She frowns slightly but I kiss her hand and she scampers to her group of friends.
They are a sea of gowns and skirts by the bar and they squeal as she gives them the details.
I can’t help but smile. I watch as Thorne artfully avoids dancing with anyone while the twins continue laughing with the girls I introduced them to.
Fortunately, I haven’t seen Prince Aleksander tonight but perhaps he’s spending time with his fiancée before torturing his brother.
I don’t even remember the poor girl’s name, but I know she’s nobility, the daughter of a High-Sword who retired a decade ago.
I take a shot offered to me by one of the skimpily-dressed waitresses masked to look like a phoenix.
It burns as it travels down my esophagus but settles warmly, effectively dousing the butterflies awakened from their cocoons by Thorne.
“Should I pity the girl?” Thorne’s voice comes from over my shoulder. I see him in my peripheral, the black winding horns of his ox mask rising above my head.
I have no way to respond, so I squirm away. His winding horns remind me of Cain and I realize in that moment that to some degree, I blame him for Cain’s death. I haven’t even mentioned it.
“What’s wrong, Serpent? Nervous?” He steps smoothly in front of me, his lips plump and moist from sipping his champagne.
“I didn’t tell you…” I trail off.
“So tell me.” He dips his head and meets my eyes.
I know he has reason enough to kill Prince Caelthar.
I know I don’t have to tell him what happened.
I don’t know if he would care, honestly.
Thorne is such an ever-changing whirlwind of emotions and motivations that I can’t keep up. So I choose to change the wording.
“Once we destroy the Titan’s Kyanite and you come into your full power, I have to go after Caelthar,” I exhale the words as casually as possible. He presses his lips into a harsh line and grabs my bicep, dragging me into a cordoned off room.
I follow Thorne into the darkness of the closed banquet hall.
His tailcoat is tight-fitting, like all of the royal attire, tailored down to a fraction of a centimeter to match every line of their bodies.
I can see the same details in the twins’ clothes, in Asterin’s, and even in the King’s attire when he made a brief appearance.
Thorne wears a bowtie, and dark jewels encrust the edges of his suit jacket.
His cufflinks gleam in the light, tiny engravings of the Shadowfall family crests delicately etched into them.
I could ask so many questions about why he wears them but I don’t.
He removes his gloves and holds his hand up, his fingers splayed in the air between us for me to grab.
“Dance. Before we talk,” he commands and he’s every bit the prince of Netherhelm in his tone. I look around an empty dining hall with scattered round tables.
I worry briefly that someone could come in, a waiter or even a member of the royal court.
“I—” I glance around again, remembering the way the King was prepared to kill Briar for her involvement with Thorne. Not that the potential of that scares me but… I don’t exactly like the idea of getting caught in an intimate moment with him.
He wears a ring adorned with dark jewels like his siblings’ rings, along with others on his elegantly soft fingers.
Noticing these details seems crucial tonight, in light of the way their family will crumble after Thorne is freed.
He deserves it, he has bled for it. He will bleed for it again tonight.
He breathes a small laugh when he sees me look back at the door and reaches closer to me.
I take his hand, the power he has humming between us but unable to harm me.
The music starts in full and I allow him to lead me.
It’s just the two of us in the small space, in sync to the music.
He guides my arms to wrap around rest on his shoulders while he—somewhat greedily—grips my waist. The feeling of him touching me is, to my great dread, ecstasy. What is it about him?
After a moment of staring into each other’s eyes, he speaks.
“So, Prince Caelthar.”
“Caelthar,” I sigh and find myself toying with the ends of his hair.
“Why are you bringing him up tonight?” He asks. I look up at his winding horns and track the moment he sees my split tongue trail across my lips as I try to form the words.
The music ends and we step apart. It feels like trying to pry a spine from a dead body, rigid, aching, impossibly difficult.
“I know you want him dead for hiring… well, for hiring me to kill you—”
“No!” he feigns exasperation with a gloved hand over his chest. “You don’t say.”
“Shut up and listen, Princeling,” I grumble and turn from him. “He killed one of my brothers in the Venomwoods. I intend to kill him for it.”
It’s easier to say without looking at him. He places a hand on my shoulder and pulls me so that I turn to face him.
“Why didn’t you tell me this sooner?” his eyes are wide with… concern?
“It’s a result of my failings… Well, your inability to die.”
To my relief, he chuckles at that. He casts a look over my shoulder, to the shadows swaying beneath the door as bodies dance to the music.
“He wanted you to kill me and you did.” He saunters away from me and perches on one of the tables. He props one booted foot on the nicely upholstered white chair while his other leg dangles. It’s almost playful, the way he swings it slowly.
“I guess part of the demand was that you stay dead,” I roll my eyes.
For a moment we realize how ridiculous it all sounds, how insane the situation actually is.
“He is responsible for the sacrifice of my mother and the murder of your brother. So, we kill him together,” Thorne shrugs calmly.
“He also claims that he intends to kill you himself.” I step closer to him as I feel panic seizing my chest at the thought of his death. Not because our lives are linked; no, I don’t care about dying. But there’s dread… “I don’t know how he made you vulnerable that night.”
Thorne seems to weigh the information a moment, then grabs the front of my jacket so I’m standing in front of him. I don’t fight being close to him. I need to tell him about The Book of Binding. He needs to translate it but he’s so close to me…
“He didn’t weaken me that night,” Thorne finally admits.
“What do you mean?” I place a hand on his chest as I stare at him.
“My immortality wanes under the crescent moon,” he whispers.
“What?” I try to step back but he grips my jacket harder.
“I don’t know why, it’s just always been so. No one else knows. Well, except for Caelthar, I guess,” he sighs. I don’t miss him staring longingly at my lips.
“Thorne…”
He shakes his head, telling me not to push it. But he trusts me with this information. Something swells in my chest.
“It won’t do him any good once he’s dead,” he gives me a cocky smile. Is he leaning in?
He tugs me closer, my head dipping towards him. The book! I try to remind myself.
What if someone comes in right now? But I don’t let the panic stop the moment, I’m too selfish.
“You’re so sure of yourself, Princeling,” I say with a hand splayed on his chest. My lips aren’t more than an inch from his.
“I’ve never been more sure of anything, Serpent,” he purrs and I don’t think we’re talking about murder anymore.
He pushes his soft lips against mine, gentle at first as if asking for permission. It feels too gentle. It eclipses everything I know about him as he winds his hands in my clothes. He’s a murderer. He’s the Executioner Prince, he is death incarnate.
He is a reflection of me.
The last time Thorne kissed me, he was desperate and on the brink of death, not capable of gentleness.
When we slept together two years ago, it wasn’t soft.
It was rough and animalistic. This… this is something new.
I taste him, sweet and sinful. He blooms on my tongue and my brain explodes, all thought and reason leaving me.
My hands are in his hair, pulling a whimper from him and I groan. Fuck.
I know this is all wrong, everything in me screaming at how I failed so spectacularly at killing my mark. But I am not an assassin at this moment. Prince Thorne isn’t a prince. We are simply two souls reunited through space and time and it’s the cruelest fate.
Before I can stop myself, I’ve pushed him down on the table, greedily taking every taste of him that I can.
Our tongues dance in unison, we are a symphony of sucking lips, panting, and gentle bites and fuck it’s so good.
I’m between his legs and there’s friction for both of us and our kisses only intensify.
I wrap my hand around his throat, needing to dominate this wretched prince and make him mine.
He smiles like he knows it and relishes in the taste of my kiss as well.
When Thorne slips a bare hand under my shirt, I pull my lips from his slowly and look down at the contact.
He watches in awe, the way his skin touches mine.
They way I don’t begin to decay and rot at his touch.
He silently runs his hands down my arms as I prop myself above him.
He watches like the world is opening up for him, a look in his eyes that says maybe, just maybe, he’s not the monster he was molded to be.
I let him have his moment and then lean back, bringing him to a sitting position as I stand. His eyes dance lazily over me, taking inventory of my body and seemingly deciding that he is pleased with what he finds.
We can’t go any further, not here or now. While this room is currently empty, anyone could walk in. If I could drag him into an abandoned structure and have my way with him, I would. But now is not the time. Blessed Titans.
He starts to speak when the chain around his neck constricts.
He gasps and grips the edge of the table.
Tendrils of black crawl over the material, tightening it further until the veins in his neck bulge and he turns blue.
I hold him, unsure what to do. He just shakes his head as best he can, telling me to wait.
Then the horrific sensation of my throat closing up seizes me, forcing me to double over before him. By no means is it as intense, but I have to work twice as hard to get air into my lungs. This fucking bond.
It feels like it takes a lifetime, but only a minute passes before the chain around his neck loosens. It allows him to take a deep inhale of breath.
He leans against my chest and pants, gasping violently for air. Once we both catch our breath he says, “Brother dearest is summoning me to the Enchanted Tree Garden.”
It dawns on me, not for the first time, that whatever Thorne endures tonight, I will also endure.
I take off in a mad sprint towards my bed chambers, needing to be secluded to deal with the pain. I won’t be able to get to Aleksander until he’s done with Thorne for the night. Then, I’ll rip that bloody key from his neck. Even if I have to take his head with it.