Chapter 9
Tobias
Three. That was the number of times Tobias had made Leila come over the past two days.
Well, one evening and one morning. Technically, when combining the hours, it was one day.
One day, and three climaxes. Inadequate, my ass.
He could die an accomplished man, and anyone who said otherwise was a cock.
Leila curled up at his side, resting Her head against his chest as She let out a contented hum.
The world outside his chamber was inconsequential.
There was only his bed and Leila’s nakedness pressed to his, Her fingertips drawing circles along his stomach.
He reveled in the path of Her nails, the warmth of Her touch leaving glowing streaks across his body.
Light beamed, then faded from his skin, but still Her fingers traveled, marking him like a canvas to use as She pleased.
“You’ve been holding out on me,” he said.
She stopped Her artwork and perked Her head up. “How?”
“When we left the fortress, You promised to tell me everything.”
“And I did! I told you all about Brontes’s plan, the war, the senators—”
“What about this?” He held up Her hand, allowing the sun beaming through the window to catch and refract against Her palm.
Her eyes followed each glint, back and forth. “My light.”
“Just seems like something I ought to know about.”
Nothing. Her gaze had gone vacant, and tension prickled beneath his flesh. “I just want to know You,” he said. “Understanding Your light seems like a pivotal part to that.”
“It’s a bit complicated.”
“I have nowhere to be but by Your side. For the next lifetime or so, at least.”
Sighing, She rolled onto Her back, eyes on the ceiling. “You already know so much. My healing touch, My blessings, the shadow walking . . .”
As Her voice trailed off, Tobias’s stomach caved in.
She wasn’t going to say anything. He’d been here before, except instead of a bed, they lay in a garden, and instead of magic, they discussed politics and death.
Perhaps he’d been naive, thinking things would change.
Or perhaps he’d been too domineering, forcing change Leila wasn’t yet ready for.
Relationships were so confusing. Was this Her misstep, or was it his own?
Leila took in a long, slow breath. “Sometimes, when I touch people . . . I can feel things.”
An answer. Tobias tried to mask his surprise. “Like what?”
“Their emotion,” Leila said. “Their sickness. Their pain.”
“That sounds like a heavy burden to bear.”
She nuzzled against him, linking Her arm with his. “It’s not just My touch, you know. It’s My eyes.”
Her gaze connected with his, blazing yellow in the sun. Of course. If Her light manifested in Her flesh, surely Her eyes were no different.
“So, You can see things?”
“Mmhmm.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Do I have a tail? You can tell me, Leila. I’ll take it like a man.”
Leila chuckled, relaxing at his side. Her fingertips once again danced across his chest. “Sometimes, if it’s strong enough, I can see how someone is feeling.”
“Is that right? How?”
“Colors.” Her eyes scanned the nothingness in front of them. “Little rainbows swirling through the air. Well, not quite. I wish it were that beautiful all the time.” She smiled. “Your colors can be quite magical, though.”
Back and forth, Her gaze darted. He’d seen that look before, curious and searching, a missing piece to a puzzle he hadn’t known existed.
“How am I feeling?”
She smirked. “Smug. Mischievous. Aroused.”
“You can see all that?”
“I can see it in your stupid grin.”
Her laughter fueled his own, and he didn’t resist the urge to pull Her close. She slinked Her arms around his neck and entwined Her legs with his. “You don’t need to tell Me you love Me,” She whispered. “I can see it. Feel it.”
“I’ll tell You all the same.”
She wore a beaming smile, all trace of apprehension forgotten. Taking his chin, She gave him a light kiss, tender in a way he wasn’t accustomed to. Then there was a sharp nip at his bottom lip, and he chuckled. That was the Leila he knew.
Reinvigorated, She crawled on top of him and straddled his thighs. “We can save the rest for another time.”
“There’s more?” he said.
“Right now, I’m much more interested in feeling you.” She ran Her palms up his bare chest, taking him in with a hungry gaze.
“For a pure woman, You’re very handsy.”
“You want Me to mind My manners?” She said.
“Not in the slightest, but what would Keene think?”
Leila laughed. “You fool.”
“It’s so indecent.”
She chuckled, biting his earlobe as Her hands explored his body. He flipped Her onto Her back, pride swelling within him when She squealed, then planted his lips on Her favorite spot along the curve of Her neck. Without fail, She moaned that delicious sound into his hair, corrupting his thoughts.
“I want to taste You,” he said.
Her eyes flitted to his, flashing with surprise. “Is that right?” She smirked. “There’s only one way to rectify that.”
Victory. Tobias tried to maintain composure, but the grin that threatened to split his lips was winning. Instead, he buried his face into Her throat, then between Her breasts, trailing kisses along Her ivory flesh while his hands trekked down to Her thighs.
A scream cut through the air, and both Tobias and Leila jumped. Leila sat upright. “What was—?”
Another scream tore through the villa, then another, as if the person—a woman—were being tortured to the beat of a drum. No, not a scream; it was more of howl, measured and theatric.
“Yes! Yes! Yes!”
Leila looked to Tobias. “Someone’s fucking?”
“Someone’s fucking,” he confirmed.
Grunting and slapping joined the mix, loud and fervent, as if the two lovers were riding one another down the corridor, parading their relations for all to behold.
“Harder! Again!” A bed frame pounded against a wall somewhere, faster and faster until a guttural groan ripped through the air, the telltale finale of their exploits.
The room fell quiet, though it was stilted. Tobias and Leila sat frozen beneath their shared sheet. Were they servants, perhaps? Unlikely. The staff at the Joseon villa were more regimented than soldiers. Pulling on his pants, Tobias tiptoed out of bed and cracked the door open.
“Tobias, what are you—?”
He held out a hand, silencing Leila. The click of a lock, the shuffling of feet, and a woman in a stately plum dress wafted by, a heavy coin purse hanging from her hip. A man followed, taking her by the waist, his chest bare and hair wet with sweat.
Flynn.
He tugged the woman against him, whispering into her ear before scooting her off with a pat on the bum. She chuckled as she disappeared from sight, while Flynn lingered, watching her until her footsteps faded. As he turned on his heel, Tobias threw open the door and followed.
“What the hell are you doing?” he spat.
Tobias wrenched Flynn’s shoulder and spun him around, only to be met with a proud grin. Flynn looked him up and down with a sneer and a laugh. “If I have to explain it to you, I feel for your woman.”
“You can’t bring people here,” Tobias said. “It’s bad enough your servants know.”
“Please, the servants won’t talk.”
“We’re fugitives.”
“You’re a fugitive,” Flynn said. “Leila isn’t, is She? She’s your captive.”
The rage within Tobias bubbled and seethed, turning his body to steel. Flynn eyed his clenched fists and scoffed. “Calm down, Artist, I’m only kidding—”
“You’re not fucking kidding.” Tobias leaned in closer. “Our lives are in danger.”
“So, you can wet your cock in my home, but I can’t?”
Tobias went still. He didn’t know. He couldn’t. They’d been so careful, shadow walking in the evening hours, and quiet, whispering beneath bedsheets and moaning into pillows. But Flynn’s breathing had become labored, and the rise and fall of his chest was heated.
Has he been spying on us?
“My God, where are my manners?” Flynn let out a hateful laugh.
“You’re my guest, after all. Go on, then.
Sully my sheets. They cost more than you’re worth, but by all means.
” He slapped Tobias on the back, then grabbed his shoulder, digging in.
“Tell Leila I said hello. Once you’re done disappointing Her, at least.”
Tobias ripped free from Flynn’s grip, and Flynn swaggered down the corridor with his head high.
“You had something to say to me?” Tobias called out.
Stopping short, Flynn looked over his shoulder. “Come again?”
“I said, you had something to say to me.”
Flynn’s gaze hardened. “Haven’t a clue what you’re talking about.”
He continued on his way while Tobias glared into the back of the man’s head. Blood burned through his veins like magma, and he retreated into his bedchamber, slamming and locking the door behind him.
Tobias and Leila dressed in a hurry, their lust extinguished and morning ruined.
They quickly parted ways, taking different paths to the same destination—another meeting with Keene, Raphael, and fucking Flynn.
He eyed Tobias sidelong, a pompous smirk on his lips, while Tobias imagined the crack of Flynn’s jaw beneath his fist.
“Greetings,” Keene said. “I trust you slept well.”
Flynn’s smirk erupted into a full-blown grin. “Never better.”
He winked at Tobias, who ground his teeth, fighting back an onslaught of profanities.
Keene didn’t bother addressing his son or the other men for that matter, his eyes on the scroll before him. “We shall keep this meeting brief. I imagine Her Holiness is eager to break Her fast.”
“Actually, I’m far more eager to put an end to My father’s tyranny,” Leila said. “This army is My sole focus from now until the job is done.”
Keene offered a respectable nod. “Of course. A herald has only just left for Navé. As soon as we receive word, we will assess the situation and proceed.”
“And how long until word returns?” Tobias stepped forward, his aggravation clear in his tone. “Long enough for Brontes to discover Her location? To invade your home?”
Keene cast Tobias an emotionless glance. “I cannot bring forth soldiers from nothing.”