Chapter 22
Chapter Twenty-Two
Darius
I couldn’t stop. Every taste of her demanded more. Her lips, her breath, the soft sounds she made when I pulled her closer—all of it unraveled something in me I’d kept locked away for longer than I could remember.
Kissing wasn’t enough. Not anymore.
My hands slid down her back, memorizing the curve of her spine, the warmth of her skin through the thin fabric. She arched into me, her fingers tightening in my hair, and a growl rumbled in my chest. The demon in me stirred—hungry, possessive, aching.
I wanted to claim her. Mark her. Make her mine in a way no one could undo.
I’d been alone for so long. Hollow. Going through the motions of existing without ever feeling truly alive. But Alice—she made me feel. Every stolen glance, every accidental touch, every moment she looked at me like I was more than the monster I’d become.
She made me want things I had no right to want.
And right now, with her body pressed against mine, her heartbeat racing in time with my own, I didn’t care about rights. I didn’t care about consequences.
I only cared about her.
“Darius,” she murmured, her breath warm on my neck. “We shouldn’t be doing this.”
Not what I wanted to hear. I thought she wanted me as much as I wanted her. Maybe I was wrong.
Her chest rose and fell rapidly against mine. “You’re still recovering.”
I slipped my hands beneath the rough linen of her tunic, finding skin as smooth as river stones. The contrast made my fingertips tingle. “I don’t care. Sit on my lap.”
“Darius...” My name on her lips was half protest, half surrender. With gentle pressure at her waist, I guided her until she straddled me, her thighs pressing against mine through our clothes. The weight of her sent blood rushing downward, leaving me dizzy and aching.
I brushed my thumbs over her nipples, which had hardened into tight buds. Her breasts filled my palms perfectly—soft yet firm, warm and yielding to my touch. A hunger rose in me to taste her, to draw one rosy bud between my lips and feel her pulse quicken against my tongue.
“Darius.” She trembled, her spine arching slightly as her fingernails traced delicate patterns across my shoulder blades, leaving trails of fire in their wake.
I lifted her tunic with trembling fingers, revealing inch by inch of her warm skin.
She gasped—a soft, breathy sound that made my heart race—as I gave into temptation.
I latched onto one rosy nipple, feeling it harden against my tongue as I worshipped her.
The sweet, salty taste of her skin set off a chain reaction inside me, heat spreading from my core to my fingertips.
But then my mind fractured—a fissure splitting through everything I thought I knew.
Memories flooded in—not gently, not slowly, but like a dam shattering. They crashed through me in a violent rush, drowning everything else.
Faces. Voices. Fragments I didn’t recognize and yet knew.
A woman with dark hair cascading over her shoulders, her smile warm, her hand soft against my cheek. She was singing something. A lullaby. My lullaby.
A tall man with broad shoulders, his laugh deep and rumbling, lifting me onto his back like I weighed nothing. His voice: One day, all of this will be yours, my son.
My son.
My son.
I couldn’t breathe.
King Gregori. Queen Abrianna.
The names surfaced from somewhere deep and buried, and with them came a truth I wasn’t prepared for. A truth I had forgotten—or had been made to forget.
My parents.
They were my parents.
I stopped kissing Alice, gasping, my hands trembling. The cave spun around me. My chest heaved. My vision blurred with something I hadn’t felt since I’d been here.
Tears.
Alice gripped my shoulders. “Darius, what’s wrong? Are you in pain?”
Her voice cut through the chaos, pulling me back. I put my hand on my forehead, taking stock. Pain? No—not the kind she meant.
I pressed my palm to my temple. “No. Memories. They came so fast. It’s been so long.”
Her eyes were filled with concern. She touched my face, her fingers gentle against my jaw. “So long what?”
I swallowed hard. The words felt foreign on my tongue—like speaking a language I’d forgotten I knew.
“Since I remembered my parents.”
“Your parents?” Her brow furrowed. “Darius, what are you talking about?”
“King Gregori and Queen Abrianna.” Saying their names aloud made my chest ache. Made it real. “They were... they are... my parents.”
Alice’s eyes widened. “You’re a prince?”
“Not in this realm.” I shook my head slowly, trying to piece it together myself.
My skull throbbed with every fragment that surfaced—flashes of images, sounds, faces that blurred before I could hold onto them.
“I hadn’t remembered them. Not forgotten—it was like they’d been erased.
A blank space where they should have been.
I knew I had parents once. Everyone does.
But their faces, their voices...” The hollow ache that had lived in my chest for years pushed back.
I pressed a hand to my chest. “There was nothing. Just emptiness.”
“And now?”
“Now I remember my mother singing to me. My father lifting me onto his shoulders. I remember being loved.”
Alice’s eyes glistened. “What brought it back?”
I looked at her—this impossible woman who had stumbled into my world and turned everything upside down.
“You.” I cupped her face in my hands. “When I pleasured you, something unlocked. Like you’re the key to everything I’ve lost.”
She smoothed her tunic back into place, but her gaze never left me. Worry creased her brow. “Maybe we should stop. You’re pretty pale.”
I wanted to argue. God, I wanted to argue. But I was trembling—not from wanting her, but from what wanting her had unlocked.
She slowly got out of my lap. “Maybe I should find my weapon.” I almost pulled her back—to unlock more memories, yes, but also because the absence of her warmth felt like a loss.
I rubbed my slick forehead and nodded. I couldn’t answer her. Stopping was the last thing I wanted, but pain pounded against my skull from the inside, as if something was trying to claw its way out.
Alice moved through the cavern like she was out for a stroll, palm outstretched. Nothing seemed to happen. I couldn’t see her face.
I held my breath, waiting. Come on. Give her something.
But then she stopped in front of a large bow that had belonged to Grump’s father. Solid gold, with a string of shimmering gold thread.
What was it doing here?
My chest tightened. Grump had treated that bow with reverence—kept it in his private chambers, polished it himself, never let any of us near it.
I’d tried to lift it once, years ago. Just once.
The thing had felt like it was forged from mountains.
My arms had strained, my muscles had screamed, and it hadn’t budged. Not even an inch.
It didn’t want me. It didn’t want any of us.
Grump believed his father’s spirit lived inside it, waiting. Choosing. And in all these years, the bow had remained silent.
Until now.
Alice ran her palm down the gold. The metal seemed to warm beneath her touch—or maybe I imagined it. Maybe I wanted to imagine it.
Then I heard it. Faint. A male voice, ancient and tender, singing through the stillness.
I belong to you.
The breath left my lungs.
I scrubbed my face with both hands, my heart hammering. This wasn’t good. This wasn’t good at all. She and Grump were balanced on a knife’s edge. He’d told her to find a weapon—but his father’s bow? The one none of his own brothers had been worthy of?
He was going to lose his mind.
Alice grabbed the gold quiver of arrows, slinging it across her back like she’d done it a thousand times. She looked even more like one of my men, especially Archer.
But could she shoot? And would Grump let her keep it?
My stomach churned. I could already picture his face—the fury, the disbelief, the betrayal. He’d see this as a challenge. An insult. And Alice would stand her ground because that’s who she was.
Which meant I’d be standing between them. Again.
I flexed my hands. They were still trembling. The memories had hollowed me out, left me running on fumes. If Grump came at her—if I had to fight him—
I shoved the thought down.
“I thought I heard singing from this.” Alice turned the bow over in her hands, her eyes wide with wonder. “Is that what’s supposed to happen?”
I stared at her. She'd found it. Just like that. “Yeah. It is.”
She scowled. “You don’t look happy.”
Happy? I was stunned. Proud. This woman had done in minutes what others couldn't do in lifetimes. I stretched out my arm. “Can I see it?”
She shrugged. “Sure.”
The moment her fingers released the bow and mine closed around it, my arm nearly ripped from its socket. The weight slammed through me—impossible, crushing—and my knees buckled. I hit the ground hard, the bow pinning my hand to the stone.
It didn’t want me. It never had.
But it wanted her.
The cavern wall shimmered.
No. Not now.
Grump stepped through, and my heart dropped to my stomach. Of all the moments…of all the ways this could have gone…
Alice was at my side in an instant. “Darius. What happened?” She lifted the bow with one hand, effortlessly, like it weighed nothing at all. Her other hand gripped my arm. “Are you okay?”
I couldn’t answer. My eyes were locked on Grump.
He’d frozen mid-stride. His gaze moved from me—on the ground, gasping, useless—to Alice. To the bow in her hand. His father’s bow. The one he’d protected like a sacred relic. The one that had rejected every single one of us.
The color drained from his face. Then flooded back, dark and dangerous.
“Has a weapon...” He had started to say as he entered, but then his voice died in his throat. Something fractured behind his eyes—grief, maybe, or betrayal—before anger swallowed it whole. His jaw tightened. His hands curled into fists.
“Darius.” My name came out like a blade. “What are you doing?”
I opened my mouth, but nothing came. What could I possibly say? Your father’s bow chose her. The outsider. The one you don’t trust.
This was about to get ugly.