Chapter 29
Elorie
I grip the front of Wilder’s shirt, staring into his darkening eyes. “You’re going to die.”
“Wouldn’t be the first time.” His joke falls flat when he has no energy behind it.
My jaw tightens. “You are not going to die for me again.”
“Worried you’ll die too, Elorie?” He brushes a hair from my cheek. “Maybe I was lying when I said that we were tied.”
“Were you?”
His breathing deepens, but he doesn’t answer as he fights to catch his breath.
“You’re suffering from the Beating.” I ball my fingers in his shirt, still pressing my hand to his heart.
“The prison does that.” Wilder swallows hard, looking down where my hands rest on him.
“But I brought you back. I thought—or I guess I assumed—that would remake you into what you were—an immortal. Are you mortal now?”
“When the gods give me a hint, I’ll let you know. The Beating is not like it was when I was in the prison. It’s like I’m somewhere—” He coughs as pain lances his expression.
“Somewhere in between,” I whisper.
There’s a reason tampering with the dead is forbidden magic. It doesn’t follow the same rules as everything else. There are consequences when playing with fate.
Wilder is here, but he’s suspended. Somewhere in between.
“It doesn’t matter. No Fae is truly immortal.” His inhale is sharp through his teeth as pain sears through him.
Around us, the battle still rages, but it’s quieting now, getting more distant. His last surge of magic staved them off. It was just enough for the guards to reinforce the perimeter, keeping them back.
“You aren’t healing.” I press my hand to Wilder’s side, and blood seeps between my fingers.
“I just need a moment.”
A moment sounds too long to wait with how dim his eyes are. With how far away he seems.
When Hazel drained my magic, it took tonics and an entire night to regain my strength. And that was without wounds like his. Without help, he won’t survive.
Gods, I can’t stand that thought. Not because he very well might take me with him. But because I can’t lose him for any reason.
Wilder leans over me, his forearm propped against the post, bringing us nearly nose to nose when I look up. I search for the gold in his darkening eyes. The flecks of his magic still flickering.
My fingers cling to his shirt like that can stop him from slipping away. It can’t. It won’t. And that makes everything nearly unbearable.
Why can’t I stand the thought of losing him? Soon enough, he’ll perish with his kingdom. But right now, with my hands pressed to his chest, I can’t bear to think it.
An idea flickers. A very bad one considering what rages around us. But it’s the only way.
“No.” Wilder shakes his head, pulling the idea straight from my thoughts.
“You need to recover, and that’s the quickest way to do it.”
“I’ll be fine without it.”
“Will you?”
He doesn’t answer, which is answer enough.
“Just…” I tilt my head back so it’s resting on the post behind me. I unlace the strings at the front of my tunic so it falls down my shoulder and bares my neck. “Drink. Your magic is the only thing strong enough to fight off the ravagers, and it won’t recover quickly enough without this.”
His throat tenses with his swallow, even as his teeth extend and sharpen. Wilder’s eyes are on my throat as his thumb grazes the side of my neck, and I shiver.
This shouldn’t feel right. Worse, I shouldn’t want it. But my back arches, and a slow growl rumbles in his chest. That sound is intoxicating. It doesn’t just make me want to offer him my magic. I want to hand him myself.
Humans in Alyssium spoke of the Fae as if they were wild creatures.
Like the wolves that once roamed the woods at the edge of my village.
Kind if you’re careful around them, but vicious the moment they sense any threat.
Staring into Wilder’s liquid-gold eyes, I see what they’re talking about for the first time.
He fixes his gaze on me, and my heart races. But he holds back. One hand gripping my hip so hard it almost hurts, while his other hand braces the post overhead.
“I am not worth saving again, Elorie,” he warns.
“It doesn’t matter right now.”
“It should.” He shakes his head. “If you knew the truth, it would.”
I don’t doubt that. What I don’t know about Wilder would likely terrify me. But, in this moment, I don’t care how horrible he is.
The battle has faded to a muted chorus of screams and clashing swords. At any second, this could turn. We could be surrounded like we were before. But all I see is him.
Hesitating.
“Is it your mate?” I ask him, swallowing hard. “Aurora.” A beautiful name. Fitting to stand beside a king. “Is she the reason you won’t do it?”
“My mate?” His gaze sharpens, and I nod. “Aurora isn’t my mate.”
“But the king said—”
“Malachi assumes what he wants.”
“And you let him.”
Of course Wilder would want King Malachi to assume he had a mate on his throne in Vaelier. A false sense that his people are protected.
“You don’t have a mate then?” It shouldn’t be a relief, but the anger that twisted a knot in my stomach loosens.
Wilder cups my cheek in his hand, brushing his thumb over the three freckles on my cheek. His breathing deepens, and I swear it somehow matches the pace of mine. His eyes fall to my mouth, slowly scanning every inch of my face before he looks me dead in the eyes.
“Aurora is not my mate.” His mouth lowers, and I close my eyes.
Thinking, for a moment, they’ll land on mine. Foolishly allowing it to happen. But instead, they meet my throat. A single press of a kiss before he parts his lips and sinks his teeth into my flesh.
It burns. The bite of a snake that is instantly soothed with venom. Wilder’s hard body curls against mine, pinning me to the post as he seals his mouth and takes his first swallow.
The rush that swims through my veins has my head instantly floating. His mouth is at my neck, but I feel him pulling from everywhere. My blood sings in response, magic rushing to meet the connection.
Reaching up, I dig my fingers into the back of his hair, tugging him closer. But he can’t get close enough.
“Elorie.” My name is a song in his head.
Music in his heart.
It’s a chant that I cling to as he drinks me down. His tongue caresses my skin with each drink, and my body is a string pulled taut with every swallow. I’m ready to snap.
Wilder’s hands find my hips, and he lifts me up until my legs wrap around him, and he’s steel against my core. I’m no longer in control of my body as I rock my hips against his hard length and submit to this euphoria.
With every slow drag of his tongue on my skin. His teeth slide deeper. I grind my hips, searching for a release unlike anything before it. It’s beyond the heat pooling in my core. I’m a furnace erupting. My heart is thundering in a cage, and I need him to set me free.
The dots on my cheek sear, no doubt glowing in the night. Then it quickly spreads through me, the heat of my magic stirring with my building climax. My nails dig into the back of his hair as he angles his hips, helping me chase my release.
The higher I climb, the deeper he drinks. Until we are not separate. We are one. Our magic swims together like that of our two realms. Battling for which one will burst before the other.
“Wilder.” My heart hammers, on the verge of bursting.
I can’t tell where he ends or I begin. This thread is twisted. Tangled. We’re wrapped around each other. Until he presses close, and I come undone.
My scream is buried by the cries of battle, but it has Wilder gripping me harder. Grinding deeper. Drinking more. Until he’s consuming me as much as I’m consuming him.
A peak with only one outcome, and that’s to plummet.
Wilder retracts his teeth, licking the wound at my neck. It trickles with blood as he pulls back, and I stare up into his eyes, watching him lick his blood-stained lips. He drags his thumb over the holes, binding them with his magic.
Cupping my face in his hand, he rubs a bloody thumb over my lips as he tilts his head back and takes a deep breath. Between us, I feel his magic surging. The trees shiver, even though there’s no breeze. The sand quivers.
When his gaze meets mine, his eyes are so bright they’re practically suns, slicing through the darkest night. His hands haven’t left my face as he lets out a flicker of something. Like he harnesses every bit of aether in Ruse Village and pushes out anything unwanted.
Over his shoulder, the ravagers simply vanish. Guards look around, lost in confusion.
My chest calms as I come down from what happened. Wilder sets me on my feet, but he doesn’t step back.
I’ve heard of the euphoria of blood sharing but never understood it until just now. How it heightens every touch. How it connected us in ways I could have never imagined.
It’s deliciously dangerous, and it makes me feel things I shouldn’t.
“It’s a side effect.” Wilder grazes his hand down the side of my neck. “It’s not your fault.”
Not my fault.
Something akin to pain flashes in his eyes as he moves my hair, hiding where he bit me.
I wish it were as simple as he makes it sound. That what I felt was a side effect of what we did. But the truth is, that’s an excuse. I wanted him to drink from me, and I enjoyed every moment of it.
Noise crackles on the beach, pulling my attention as Wilder steps back. The loss of his heat chills deeper than the winters back home. I reach for the dagger I dropped to the ground and sheathe it.
“You’re alive!” Greer’s voice cuts through the chaos. She pushes between two members of the Guard; her leathers are shredded, and blood drips from multiple wounds, but she’s moving as if none of it is fatal. “I lost you. Gods, you really do bring trouble anywhere you go.”
Her gaze darts between me and Wilder, who doesn’t say anything.
“We need to leave.” Greer tugs my hand, but I resist.
“But the troops from Alyssium.”
Greer shakes her head once. “The ships are still at sea or lost. I don’t know where they are, but we can’t wait. The Crown Guard is here to take us home.”
Home.
It might be hers, but mine is across that sea. Through those turbulent waves. Home is something I may never see again. And even if I always knew that, my stomach is lead with this sinking realization.
Greer takes my hand, guiding me to a Gate that’s been opened on the beach.
Home.
I glance back at Wilder, who is still watching me. This isn’t home for either of us.