Chapter 7
It took me a while to remember how to walk again.
“You can take that smug look off your face,” I said with a scowl at my husband as he stretched along the floor, leaning back on his hands, looking entirely too pleased with himself.
I stalked another few paces, then turned and repeated the action, trying to work the kinks and aches out of my legs.
Some time during the third round—yes, third—he tried to fold me up like a twisted doughnut to get deeper.
I came harder than ever, especially with those gems sending shocks into all my nerves, but that didn’t stop me glaring at the bastard as he watched me pace.
“What’s in the bag?” I asked, spotting a satchel at the base of Gaia and her stone dragons I hadn’t noticed before. Probably because I was falling to my death when he turned up.
“Food, clean clothes, supplies to care for your wound. A book.”
I narrowed my eyes, and put my hands on my hips for good measure. I should probably get dressed; it was lessening the effect of my glare. Kier’s eyes fixed on my chest and glazed over. “A book.”
“Yes, mate. Sheets of paper bound into leather, with words printed on them—”
I stalked over to the bag, rifled through it until I found something suitably projectile, and hurled a pear at Kier. It hit him in the chest because he allowed it to. “Dick.”
“This?” he asked, stroking the length of his cock, now back to its regular, albeit still dangerous, size. Kier too was back in his regular form, no longer blue and huge and powerful enough to pin me down and—
Nope. You are not going into heat, Zabaletta Kollastus, so there’s no need for a fourth round.
“If you brought me reading materials, that means I’m going to be down here long enough to read the damn thing.”
His eyes softened, and he released his cock, getting to his feet and swiftly dressing. He left his shirt unbuttoned. I scowled at his rounded pecs, his defined stomach. Stupid, mouth-watering muscles.
“Zaba,” he murmured, pulling me into a hug that I didn’t bother fighting. I rested my ear over his heart and let its steady whoosh calm my own frantic beat.
“Kier, I can’t stay here. The walls are closing in on me, and I’m pretty sure I’m going mad.”
“Darling. Going?”
I pinched his side, the only squishy part of him I could find. “Don’t leave me down here.”
He brushed a lock of red hair from my face, gazing down at me. “If I stay with you, we’ll never find a way to undo the compulsion.”
My shoulders rose and fell with a sigh. “I want first dibs on her murder.”
“Done,” he agreed, brushing a kiss to my temple. “And I’ll be back in a few hours. I’ll spend the night in the chamber with you.”
A weight slid off me, another sigh slipping loose. “I suppose I can live with that. What time is it now?”
“It was mid-afternoon when I came.”
“Into the chamber or inside me?”
“Zaba,” he hissed, his cock jumping between us.
I scraped my teeth over his chest in answer, a temporary smile on my face. “So. A few hours until you come back. I can do that. No problem.”
“There’s enough food in the bag to keep you from getting hungry. And since you’ve been conscious for an hour without trying to hurt yourself now, I can confidently do this.”
I startled in surprise when he clasped his hands around my wrists and the bindings fell away.
They didn’t even leave a pink mark on my skin, as if even his magic knew to be gentle with me.
I flexed my hands, waiting for them to wrap around my own throat, but clearly the gods liked me because nothing happened.
Relief unwound a coil of panic from my chest.
I used my new freedom to frame Kier’s warm face with my palms, sliding my fingertips into his hair. Our kiss was natural and effortless, a slow tender exploration. I didn’t need to say thank you because he knew, and I didn’t need to tell him how honoured I was by his trust.
“Don’t get any ideas,” I mumbled between kisses, sinking my fingers deeper into his hair and slowing the kiss when he tried to take control. “It’s just a kiss.”
His hand flattened to my back, yanking me closer, a low growl of complaint in the back of his throat. It shivered along my tongue. “One more round.”
“Nope.” I yanked his hair, pulling his head back. “Not until tonight.” I teased him with a chaste brush of my lips over his. “Gives you a reason to come back.”
“You’re my reason to come back.”
“An incentive, then.”
“I’m coming back, Zaba,” he said solemnly, holding my gaze. “I promise.”
I held up my little finger. “Swear it, or I don’t believe you.”
Without missing a beat, he wrapped his pinky around mine. “I swear.”
I nodded, satisfied.
“And I’ll see about getting others to visit you tomorrow so you don’t go crazy alone down here. Your troupe will jump at the chance. Did you know, they’re very generous with threats of dismemberment?”
“I did,” I agreed with a grin, warmth spreading across my chest. “Who threatened you?”
“Aerona first, then Ryvan, then Jakoda with a very pointed remark. Hames took out three knives and sharpened them one by one while staring right at me.”
I snorted. That sounded like our surly protector alright.
“Cherish took me aside and urged me to free you, or at the very least let them visit. When I said I didn’t know if that would be possible, she just stared at me for seconds.”
“Ohhh,” I breathed. “The Cherish Death Stare. Wow, you should watch your back, husband.”
He gave me an unamused look.
“No, really. The last time she gave me that look, she put salt in my honey tea, and I’m not talking one single spoonful. I nearly choked on it.”
“I’ll closely monitor all drinks I consume,” he assured me, his hands beginning to wander down my back again, smoothing over my ass.
“You could stay…” I offered, ignoring the spike of alarm that being down here alone inspired. But I could endure it, because he would come back, and tomorrow I’d get to see my troupe. And Cleodora couldn’t reach me here. I might have been caged, but I was free.
He began to disentangle himself from me, and I panicked, grabbing onto him hard. “Kier, I’m sorry. About Azurann, and lying, and luring you out there.”
He caught my other hand, bringing it to his lips for a lingering kiss, thawing the frost of my panic. “None of it was your fault, and I instantly forgave you. I’m coming back, Zaba.”
I swallowed and forced myself to move back, grabbing the bag to distract myself while my husband kissed me one last time and headed towards one of the arches across the room.
There’d been no seal, no opening, not even a loose brick to press to allow the back wall to swing into another room.
But as Kier laid a hand on the stone, a faint ripple of magic formed from the ring on his hand, far lighter than his usual power but enough that the wall slid back, forming a doorway.
“I’ll find the woman who did this, Zaba,” he promised, half out of the Chamber of Truths. “I swear it to you, with the Mother as my witness, and on my honour as your mate. I’ll find her.”
I had to swallow hard when a golf ball rose into my throat. “I know,” I said roughly. “Go,” I added, batting a hand in his direction. “I’ll be fine.”
“I know,” he echoed, his stare lingering on my face despite the rest of my body still on show. “You’re the strongest and most stubborn person I know.”
“I feel like you could have just said strongest,” I remarked, crossing my arms over my chest, my heart strangely, inexplicably full.
“No, the stubbornness is a source of your strength. It’s a package deal.”
I rolled my eyes, getting the clothes out of the bag he’d left for me, raising an eyebrow at the little scrap of fabric that called itself underwear. “Really, Kieran?”
“That’s not my name.”
“It is now. I’m not wearing this; it’ll attack my ass cheeks like a cheese grater.”
He leaned against the slab of stone that used to be a wall, a slow smile crossing his face. “Then feel free to wear nothing at all, wife.”
I gave him the middle finger and turned away, his huff of a laugh reaching me.
“I love you, Zaba.”
“I love you too,” I replied without looking up, a lump in my throat again.
When I looked up again, he was gone.
I rolled my eyes and dressed in the almost-underwear, pulling on soft calfskin trousers and a knitted jumper he’d packed for me. And like any sane woman would do in my situation, I found a nice little alcove in which to have a cry.