16. The Nightmare Prince
Chapter 16
“No matter how much you glare at the moon, it’s not going to shrink.” Sander had his boots kicked up on the narrow desk tucked against a wall in my chamber.
A few scrolls about Rave recruitments from Klockglas were there, some weapon reports from our black steel smiths, and some fury blades the Night Folk First Knight supplied for me.
By the frost seasons I would be traveling across the realms, inventorying our Rave armies.
It was aggravating to know one soul in this damn palace would revel in the idea of me being gone, sleeping in cold tents, surrounded by brash, smelly warriors—my wife.
No mistake, those weeks would be Skadi’s most cherished.
I scowled at the rising moon once more like it had wronged me greatly and deserved to meet the ax for it.
“Quite a show you gave the morning crowds.” Sander tried again, a grin that looked a little too devious for my mood on his horrid face. It wasn’t that horrid of a face since it looked a great deal like mine, but still awful in this moment.
“Why are you here?”
“I’m always here.”
“You’re not helping.”
“I’m not here to help. I’ve been helping you all day. Which”—Sander kicked his feet off the desk and righted in the creaky chair—“by the way, fascinates me. You have focused with such intensity on this project of yours, yet look like this now.”
“You’re right. I ought to stop the construction of it immediately.”
“I didn’t say that. I’m just curious why you are doing it at all?”
“I don’t know.” I peered down at the drawings of the plans for the empty room, a project I began to fashion in my head the day after the vows.
To spite me, my fiery princess would likely burn it.
My frown deepened and I hated it. Never before had I scowled so often and so skillfully, certainly not when I knew I would not be spending my night alone.
Before this alliance I strived to keep most of my nights filled with warmth and feminine whispers. Trouble was the woman I had no choice but to sleep beside tonight spent her days dancing between the notion of ignoring or stabbing me.
In the distance, a heavy clock toll boomed the time.
Sander chuckled and rose from his chair. “My cue to leave. Maj wanted me to remind you not to be an ass. Daj wanted me to remind you he expects you probably will be.”
Gods knew my brother was trying.
“I’ll manage to make them both unspeakably proud, I’m sure.”
Sander laughed, but stalled when he opened the door. “Hello, Princess. Ah, that is an interesting tale, I think you’ll like it better than your company tonight.”
Forget his attempts to lighten the tension, I was going to kill my brother. My parents only needed one son, after all.
Sander must’ve sensed my scathing murder plot because he had the gall to grin, wave, and wink at me before he slipped around my wife standing in the doorway.
Gods, why did she have to be even a little bit beautiful?
Her hair hung in a long braid over her shoulder. It was the color of starlight, but deeper than only silver—sometimes when the light struck just right there was a flash of amethyst, blue, or pale gold in her hair. Secret shades, much like the secrets she kept tucked away in those eyes.
She was draped in a silken robe, nothing covering her feet, and tucked under her arm was a thick, black leather book with yellowed pages.
Over her head, Dorsan met my gaze. “As stated in the alliance of Dokkalfar and alver, the princess Skadinia and Prince Jonas shall share a chamber each full moon. The alliance clearly states a bed will be shared.”
“What?” I pressed a palm to my chest. “You mean I can’t ravish my wife on the floor? Perhaps the chair? I’ve been rather inclined to try a position involving my desk.”
Dorsan’s smooth, unruffled demeanor nearly shifted in a bit of shock. Damn, it was close. I would get him eventually.
My wife, on the other hand, looked properly scandalized. Lips parted, eyes wide, I did enjoy that rosy flush that always took the tips of her ears.
The elven guard cleared his throat and backed away. “Until dawn, then.”
“Unless we do not feel like emerging after all the lovemaking it seems we will be doing, Dorsan.” Skadi did not flinch, not the slightest twitch of her lips as she spoke and entered the room.
I nearly choked on my own breath. Her smug little smirk flooded my veins with heat—annoyance or something else, I wasn’t certain—but she looked fiercely pleased with herself when she strode toward my desk, her imposing book in hand.
The guard seemed a touch paler when he closed the door.
I clicked the lock and faced the . . . aggravating creature invading my bedchamber. “Well played, Wife.”
“You are not the only one who can unsettle the nerves.” The spine of the book crackled when she opened the pages to a previously marked place. “In fact, much of my existence unsettles folk.”
She wasn’t wrong.
The woman shook my steady footing often, but I did not think it was the same way she meant. Apprehensive glances followed her aplenty. Not only here, but I noted much the same on Natthaven.
What was I supposed to do now? I was no stranger to sleeping with a woman, but I was a stranger to sleeping with a woman in my bed.
I took lovers anywhere but here—not in my room.
It was too close, too personal. It opened hope for expectations I never intended to deliver.
“Do you plan to sit over there all night?” I asked when silence went on too long.
“You heard Dorsan.” Skadi didn’t look up from the page. “I must sleep beside you. So, I believe you already have your answer. When it is time to sleep, we will sleep. Until then, I’ll remain here. It is a long book though. Could be some time.”
Another frown. Soon, my mouth would be horribly set in a downward turn.
She wanted to play indifferent, and I would be happy to test her tolerance. “If I’m right, that is the saga of the seven raven brothers?”
Skadi nodded. “And the golden maiden. A fae tale I haven’t read before, but it’s adequately interesting for now.”
I unlaced the front of my tunic. “It’s a romantic tale.”
“Hmm.”
“About a fated love that emerges between the maid and one of the brothers.”
“I assumed that was the design of the story.”
I yanked my tunic over my head. Skadi tried to hide it, but she looked. She swallowed a little harder and nearly pinned her nose to the pages. “Are you going to sleep now?”
“No.” I strode across the room. “I plan to wash while you read.”
“Good.” She said, voice strained. “You look rather . . . unkempt.”
Did I? With a discreet sniff under my arm, I settled that the work on the upper room earlier had left a bit of a smell behind.
Perhaps I ought to leave the day on my skin, let her breathe it in all night.
Instead, I tossed my tunic on the floor, landing it a few paces from her feet.
She wrinkled her nose, but it seemed intentional, like she wanted me to believe she found me utterly repulsive.
Fine. Let the games begin, Fire.
The door to the washroom was on her opposite side, and when I reached it, she shifted, barring her shoulders against me, actively not looking at me. If I had to guess, her cheeks might have some of that rosy heat in them.
“I won’t be long.”
“Take your time. I have plenty of pages.”
I was about to commit a travesty greater than murder according to my brother. Wasn’t my fault. I was the villain in her eyes and had no choice but to rise to the occasion.
“She chooses the last brother, by the way.” I clapped the frame of the doorway. “The weakest. Her belief in his heart and strength transforms him into the fiercest warrior and he goes on to win back the kingdom in the end.”
Skadi whirled around, my fire alight in those fierce blue eyes. “I . . . I just got to her interactions with the first brother and . . . I hadn’t gotten there yet!”
“Oh, apologies.” I shrugged. “Well, I saved you some time.”
I closed the door in the same moment she let out a strangled shriek. I chuckled, back against the opposite side. The dance between indifference and murder continued, and if I was still breathing at dawn, the night could be claimed as a success.
When I stepped back into the room, Skadi had taken the place in my bed nearest to the wall. She was curled up beneath the quilts, back facing me.
I dragged a hand through my damp hair, shaking a few drops free from the strands, and made my way to her side.
Her eyes were clenched unnaturally and her breaths were too forced. She was awake.
“This is my side.”
Skadi cracked an eye. “I suppose you’ll need to take the other side. This is also the side on which I sleep.”
“It’s my bed.”
“I thought everything was meant to be ours.”
The thud of my pulse filled my ears. “Scoot over, Fire. Or I sleep on top of you.”
This damn woman merely hugged my pillow—mine—a little more in her arms and nestled deeper in the bed.
“All right.”
I tossed away the quilts, ignoring the way my bleeding cock twitched at the sight of her in the green sleep shift, much too diaphanous for my thoughts not to wander to how soft her skin looked, how her body would fit so well beneath mine.
Dammit. I needed to keep focused.
Skadi propped onto one elbow, readying to battle, no doubt, but she wouldn’t get the opportunity.
I scooped her up beneath her knees, taking her into my arms. She squirmed and shoved against me. “Put me down. I was sleeping!”
“Hmm. You’ll sleep better over here.” I tossed her to the other side of the bed.
Skadi let out a cry of surprise when she plopped onto the edge of the mattress. I took my place under the quilts.
“So warm.” I tucked my pillow against me, breathing it in. “Smells perfect too. Many thanks.”
Those flames in her eyes were going to devour me. Part of me hoped they would.
“You are a brute.”
“I’m rather protective about my side of the bed.” I brushed my fingers over her face. “Now, hush. It’s time to sleep.”
Skadi jerked her head away, sitting up. Wrong move. Unless it was planned, then, well played. One of her thin shoulder straps slid down her arms. The tattoos I noticed on the night of our vows curled around her skin in beautiful filigree and vines of blossoms. They seemed to curl around her breasts, her ribs, likely down her stomach.
Gods, I adjusted to hide the rush of blood between my legs.
Without a word, I made the foolish misstep of sliding the strap back on her shoulder.
Skadi smirked. “Do you enjoy my attire, Husband?”
“Not at all.” I didn’t look at her and rolled onto my stomach.
I shuddered when her fingertips started to trace the crossed blades inked on my back. Skadi pressed her body against my arm. The warmth of her skin, the way she smelled like the spiced icing she loved so much, tangled my mind in a fog.
“Are you certain?” Her voice was low, almost needy. “It is the perfect dress for a man’s hands to handle.”
This was a game, I could see it. Raised by crooks and schemers, I’d do well to keep sight of my mark.
In one swift motion, I released my pillow and managed to roll my bride half under me. Her eyes went wide, but there wasn’t fear there. Perhaps it was the same stun I felt from how easily we fit each other this way.
I stared down at her, my fingertips tracing the lines of her throat. “Do you want me to handle you, Fire?” The tip of my nose followed where I touched. Skadi’s breaths sharpened when my lips ran across her jaw. “I’d be happy to. Want me to undress you?”
I tugged the strap of her shift off her shoulder again.
“That . . . isn’t necessary.” She shifted, her thigh rubbing across my cock. Gods, she’d feel the need there.
This was a dangerous play—one where I might cause more harm to myself in the end. “So certain?” I let my hand fall to her leg. “I could make good on my promise to have you screaming in pleasure.”
A soft whimper spilled over her lips. She desired a piece of me, and hated it. I knew the feeling.
“We . . . it is expected.”
I arched my hips against her just enough to add pressure to her own. “It is.”
Skadi’s shoulders rose with rough gasps. Gods, she was stunning and I feared if I allowed it—if she allowed it—I might find too much comfort with her wrapped up in my arms this way.
“We could do all of it, Fire.”
“If . . . we could just . . . get it over with.”
“True. I could start with my fingers, slow and gentle, just enough to get you ready for my cock.”
My hand drifted higher, nearly falling into the heat of her center. Skadi dragged the tip of her tongue over her lips. She didn’t want to enjoy my touch, but she was bending beneath it.
“I could do it all.” I leaned close, hovering my mouth over hers. “But I’m rather tired. Sleep well.”
I planted a quick kiss to the tip of her nose and rolled back to my side of the bed, pillow smashed under my body again.
Skadi’s breath shuddered. It only lasted a moment before she grunted in frustration, made certain her feet kicked my hip once or twice as she readjusted on the bed. The woman moved with enough force she rocked the entire structure. Intentional, no doubt.
When she finally settled was the moment I allowed myself a look.
“What did you do? Build a nest?”
Skadi had aligned two long pillows on the edge of the bed, like a wall between her and the door, and the quilts gathered nearly over her entire head.
“Go to sleep, Prince.”
“Is this how you sleep?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Well, I do not have my regular spot, do I?”
I chuckled. “You didn’t build your nest on this side.”
“I hate the door!” Skadi tossed the quilt off her head as she shouted the truth. A shadow crossed her eyes, like she wished she could take the words back. “Never mind.”
“Why do you hate the door?”
“Good night.”
“Skadi—”
“Gods.” She tossed the quilt back again. “Because when I was a little girl, stealing food to stay alive before my grandfather found me, I had to barricade my door at night from fear the royal guards would barge in and take me to a young house. Those are work houses among the Ljosalfar clan. Is that an adequate reply? I like to sleep as far from the door as I can or I tend to have nightmares, so prepare yourself. I am told I thrash.”
She covered her head again and went still.
I could not find the words. I laid back, eyes schooled on the rafters overhead. When I was convinced Skadi was asleep in her tangle of quilts, I eased off the bed and went to her side, gently nudging her toward the middle. She sighed and wrapped her arms around my pillow once again, nuzzling her face into the surface.
I took the side nearest to the door and watched her lashes flutter through her dreams—perhaps nightmares I unknowingly forced her to face.
Those I understood more than she would ever know.
I reached out and brushed a lock of hair off her brow before rolling onto my shoulder, facing away from the peace on her features.
Well, I would make my father proud—I was an absolute ass.