Chapter 8 #2
The bed alone looks like something torn from the pages of a fairy tale.
Four massive posts carved with intricate twisting vines and blooming roses, sheets that shimmer with embedded magic, catching and reflecting light like captured starshine.
The mattress appears softer than clouds, piled high with pillows in rich navy and silver.
The furniture throughout the room is crafted from dark wood polished to mirror perfection, every surface gleaming with silver inlay and delicate detailing that speaks of master craftsmen.
The walls are draped in sumptuous navy and gold tapestries, heavy curtains pulled aside to reveal tall arched windows that frame the slow fade of evening beyond the glass.
There’s a full bathroom attached that makes me question everything I thought I knew about luxury.
It’s massive, tiled in gleaming black marble veined with emerald green, featuring a rain-style shower that looks like I’ll be bathing beneath a forest waterfall.
When I test the taps, the water runs hot immediately, the steam rising in fragrant clouds scented with something faint and herbal, pine, maybe, or cedar.
The whole place runs without pipes or flame, just water appearing like it’s been called up from the stones themselves.
Magic, obviously. At this point, I’ve stopped trying to understand how anything works in this place.
A tray waits on the table near the window, steam rising from food that looks almost too beautiful to eat.
The scents hit first, something rich and spiced, like slow-roasted meat glazed in sweetness I can’t name, bread that gleams faintly, and a bowl of dark fruit that seems to hum under its own light.
There’s even a glass of amber liquid that smells sharp and warm, cider, maybe.
I don’t know what half of it is, but hunger wins over caution.
I eat until the edge of exhaustion dulls, until the strangeness feels almost normal.
By the time I reach the shower, the steam and warmth feel like another kind of opulence I haven’t earned.
I scrub every inch of myself with almost violent intensity, like I’m trying to wash away the weight of this surreal day and all its devastating revelations.
The hot water beats against my shoulders, loosening knots of tension I didn’t realize I’d been carrying.
When I emerge, clean and dressed in clothes that somehow appeared on the bed while I was showering—soft linen shirt in deep blue, perfectly fitted pants, and a pair of boots that actually accommodate my size—I find Locke still posted in the hallway like some kind of eternal sentinel.
He doesn’t even glance in my direction when I step out. “You smell better.”
I don’t answer, refusing to rise to his obvious bait despite the mocking smirk playing at his lips. Instead, I cross the few steps to Esme’s door and knock softly, the sound echoing in the quiet corridor.
Esme opens the door after a moment, and my breath catches in my throat.
She’s barefoot, wearing a long sapphire-blue shift dress that clings to her curves and spills like liquid around her legs.
Her hair is piled loosely on top of her head, secured with what looks like silver pins, though a few rebellious strands have escaped to curl down and brush against her smooth, dark cheeks.
No makeup obscures her natural beauty. No armor hides her vulnerability.
Just her, radiant and real and absolutely breathtaking.
She’s never looked more like the magic she was born to wield.
“Hey,” she says softly, reaching for my hand and pulling me into her sanctuary. I don’t miss the lingering look she gives Locke before closing the door firmly behind us, shutting out his watchful presence.
I step into a room that makes mine look positively modest by comparison.
Everything here speaks of royalty and wonder, walls painted in deep purple and midnight blue, adorned with hand-painted constellations that seem to shimmer and move in the flickering light.
A fireplace dominates one wall, flames dancing in impossible shades of silver and blue.
The wardrobe is a work of art itself, carved with intricate crescent moons and blooming night flowers.
Even the air itself seems enchanted, carrying the faint scent of jasmine and moonlight.
“This place is absolutely insane,” Esme says as she leans her back against the door, her eyes wide with wonder and disbelief.
“Not arguing with that assessment,” I reply with a huffed laugh, still taking in the magical opulence surrounding us.
“They have running water that’s actually hot.
Showers with water pressure that defies physics.
Electricity that isn’t quite electricity.
Clothes that appear out of thin air.” She rattles off the impossibilities with growing excitement.
“Do you think there are Brownies in Vanir? I mean, that’s the only rational explanation for the appearing and disappearing act. ”
“Luxury meets lunacy, I guess. But you might be right about the Brownies theory. How else could things materialize and vanish without us ever seeing the people responsible?” I shrug, though privately I’m beginning to suspect the magic here operates on levels I can’t even begin to comprehend.
She grins at that, the expression lighting up her entire face before it slowly fades into something more serious. Her pale eyes sweep over me like she’s taking careful inventory of my emotional state. “You okay?”
“Define okay,” I say, unable to keep the unease from my voice.
She sighs and pads across the plush carpet to perch on the edge of her elaborate bed, the mattress barely dipping under her slight weight. “You’re worried.”
“Of course, I am.” The admission comes easier than I expected.
“You think I can’t handle myself here.” It’s not quite a question, more like a statement tinged with frustration.
“I know you can. I’ve seen you face down demons and witches and worse. That’s not the point.”
“Then what is?” she asks, a hint of frustration creeping into her voice, the edge that appears when she feels like I’m trying to wrap her in protective cotton.
I move to her slowly, dropping to crouch in front of her knees so I can meet her eyes directly.
“You’re in a place that wants to own you, Angel.
You’ve been through absolute hell, and now you’re some kind of royal prize for them to parade around.
I don’t know the rules here. I don’t understand the dangers.
I don’t know how to keep you safe in a world where politics are played with poisoned words and pretty smiles. ”
She reaches out to touch my cheek, her palm warm against my skin. “You have already kept me safe. You’re still keeping me safe.”
“I didn’t save you from the high priestess that night. I didn’t stop them from dragging you away when you needed me most.” The guilt that’s been gnawing at me for weeks finally spills out in a rush of self-recrimination.
She makes a soft sound of disagreement. “How were you supposed to be in two places at once, Sam? You were doing exactly what you were supposed to do, patrolling the campus, protecting the other students. As for what happened in Willow Woods. . .” Her voice gentles. “I’ve already forgiven you for that.”
“I haven’t forgiven myself.” The words come out rougher than I intended, weighted with all the shame and regret I carry.
I should have fought harder against Patrick’s orders.
Should have defied my Alpha to stay by her side.
Should have been strong enough to choose her over pack loyalty from the very beginning.
She slides down from the bed to join me on the floor, her hands cupping my face with infinite tenderness, her voice steady and sure.
“Then let me remind you of something important. You’re mine, Sam Baker.
I’m yours. We protect each other now. That’s how this works. That’s how it’s always going to work.”
I lean my forehead against hers, our breaths mingling in the small space between us. “I don’t want to share you.”
“You won’t.” She says it with such conviction, her voice a soft whisper that brushes against my lips.
“I already am.” The words escape me like a secret, tinged with a petulance I can’t quite suppress.
“Sam,” she whispers, her voice a gentle reprimand and a plea all at once.
Fuck it. I kiss her.
It’s soft at first, just a tentative brush of our mouths, a mingling of breaths.
Then she tilts her head, deepening the kiss, and something inside me snaps.
I wrap my arms around her, pulling her into my lap, my hands burying themselves in her hair.
Her dress rides up, exposing her bare legs as they stretch out on either side of me.
She clings to me like I’m her lifeline, her fingers digging into my back as we devour each other.
Our bodies, starved of contact for far too long, press together with a desperation that borders on madness.
I press her back onto the plush carpet, following her down, kissing her like I’ll never get the chance again.
I take my time, savoring every inch of her, pulling her dress over her head until she’s bare beneath me.
Esme spreads her legs wide in invitation, and my wolf preens in satisfaction, knowing that I’m the only one who’s been inside her, the only one who’s seen her like this.
I take in every inch of her naked skin, trailing kisses from her neck down to her collarbone. I trace my tongue over her mate mark, feeling her squirm and buck underneath me, her body responding to my touch with a fervor that matches my own.
“Sam,” she pleads, her voice a husky whisper that sends a shiver down my spine.
“I know, Angel. I know.” I take a nipple between my teeth, biting down gently, eliciting a moan from deep within her that makes my aching dick weep. My balls draw up tight from the sound alone, my body ready and eager for her.
“I need you, Sam. I’m yours.” She cries out as I release her nipple with a pop and suck on the other, giving it the same attention, the same devotion.
Esme’s hands find their way under my shirt with a sigh, her touch like a brand, familiar and life-affirming, seeping into my skin, soothing my wolf.
I continue my worship of her body, kissing my way down her stomach to the apex of her thighs.
The sweet scent of her arousal makes my mouth water, my body aching with a need that only she can satisfy.
“I need to taste you, Angel,” I say, my voice a low growl as I pull her legs up and over my shoulders, diving in headfirst into pure bliss.
“Sam!” Esme shouts, her voice echoing around the cavernous room as I lift her hips, ass cheeks gripped tight in my palms, eating her pussy like it’s the only sustenance I need to survive.
In this case, it is. I lick and suck her clit into my mouth, alternating between hard and soft ministrations until she’s begging me to stop.
“Not until you cum on my tongue, Angel. Give me one before I fuck you,” I tease, biting down harder on her clit until she explodes, her release hitting my tongue like a reward. I lap it up, savoring every drop, every tremor of her body.
Esme screams my name, her voice filling the room, and I know without a doubt that Locke hears it all. Yeah, I’m being petty, because she’s mine, and I have no problem reminding the asshole of that fact.
I slide Esme’s legs off my shoulders as she sags to the floor, her body spent and sated.
I quickly remove my clothes as she watches me, her eyes hooded, her hands reaching out for me.
I stroke my dick from root to tip, precum dripping from the tip with one goal in mind. Then suddenly, I’m stopping short.
“I don’t have protection,” I whisper, thinking of all the times we fucked without it before. Esme was a virgin, but she still took birth control. I guess in the end, it didn’t work for us. Fate had found a way, and our gift was taken away from us.
Esme’s face flushes before she speaks softly.
“My mother gave me a tonic the witches in my coven take to prevent pregnancy. It is usually given twice a year. I was overlooked when I was sent to HellNight Academy so I had to rely on normal birth control. I guess. . .,” Trailing off she looks away, her voice tinged with a sadness that tugs at my heart.
My erection flags at her words, the need to comfort her winning out over my needs. I drape my body over hers, holding my weight on my elbows, my lips inches apart from hers.
“I love you, Esme. We don’t have to do anything right now, protected or not. I wish I could take all of your pain away. Every moment of mistreatment, every harsh and hurtful word uttered your way, every horrible memory,” I say, brushing my lips against hers, feeling her breath hitch at my words.
Esme wraps her legs around my waist, her wet pussy stirring my dick to life once more. She looks me in the eyes and smiles, a smile that lights up her face, that chases away the shadows. “Then take it away, Sam. Fuck me.”
I throw all my worries to the wind as I slide inside her, feeling her tight heat envelop me. I make love to her all night, our bodies moving in sync, our hearts beating as one. We forget about the problems that await us, lost in the pleasure of one another, lost in the love that binds us together.
For now, she’s here, in my arms, and that’s all I need.