Chapter 54 Bryony
brYONY
WHERE ARE WE going?” I ask Alexios.
The god-king doesn’t turn as he leads us down the dark tunnel below the arena. There’s no ornamentation along the walls, just glittering black stone and the rush of water in the distance.
“There’s a spring under the palace. The magic will heal the Wolf while those shackles keep his power locked down.”
The passageway opens into a cavern. Crystals cover the walls, refracting the luminous turquoise of the waters as if we’re standing inside a geode.
Steam rises in lazy tendrils from the surface, carrying the scent of salt and minerals.
And in the center of it all is a pool, perfectly round and glowing from within.
So clear, I can see straight to the bottom.
Evander leans into my side with a pained grunt. His breaths are harsh and labored. Fresh blood oozes from the vicious slashes and punctures littering his skin.
“Is he okay?” I ask Alexios. “He’s not speaking.”
“He goes nonverbal when he’s like this.” His gaze drops to where Evander’s fingers dig into my hip.
“Strip down, Princess. Your soulbond’s blocked, and he just slaughtered fifty demis for you.
He needs skin contact to ground himself.
” When I hesitate, he sighs impatiently.
“There’s only one female in this realm whose body interests me, and it’s not you. Just do it.”
I grit my teeth and reach for my dress’ collar to undo the buckle. The gown falls to my feet, and cool air kisses my skin. My nipples pebble in the chill.
When I look up, Evander’s pupils have blown wide, only a thin ring of molten amber visible around the edges. The weight of that burning gaze rakes over me. His hands flex at his sides, as if barely leashing the urge to grab me.
“Now him,” Alexios tells me.
I step closer to Evander. The bond may be shuttered between us, but I swear I can feel him—the dissonant thrum of hunger vibrating through him. The need.
Holding his fevered stare, I ghost my touch over his chest and follow the valley of his sternum down until I snag on the fastener securing his weapons low on his hips. I hesitate when a growl rumbles out of him.
He seizes my wrist and squeezes in warning, the pressure just shy of pain.
I’m not in control, that movement says. Don’t let me hurt you.
“Damn,” Alexios mutters. “Of course you don’t know what you’re doing.”
“Then why don’t you show me?”
“Fine.” He moves behind me. “There’s an art to dealing with a feral god. Follow my lead.”
He pries Evander’s fingers loose. I inhale sharply as his chest presses to my back. He reaches around me to slide his hands over mine, guiding me to the complicated clasps.
“First thing to remember,” he breathes in my ear. “Showing fear makes us want to chase. Without the bond, he’s running on instinct, and right now, you smell like prey.”
I hold still, letting Alexios guide my hands. He’s quick, almost forceful as he shoves a sheath off Evander’s shoulders.
“Any hesitation makes us think you’re weak.” Alexios forces my hands lower, to the fastening of Evander’s trousers. “Weak things get eaten.”
Evander’s eyes track every movement, muscles coiled tight. Lethal and utterly beautiful.
Alexios’ breath is warm against my nape. “See the way he’s looking at you? If I hadn’t cut your bond, he would have fucked you in all that blood,” he whispers. “That’s what we do.”
A shiver goes through me. “Trying to scare me off?”
“Just preparing you for reality.” A pause as we push Evander’s trousers down his hips. “You’re doing good.”
Heat crawls up my cheeks, but I say nothing.
Together, we divest him of blood-splattered leathers and weapons until he stands bare. My mouth goes dry at the sight of him. Even naked and covered in blood, he’s beautiful. His cock is hard, and he’s staring with the sort of desire that says he wants to consume me.
Alexios gives Evander a light shove toward the pool. “Get in the water while I teach your princess how to handle you.” He glances at me. “You too. Keep eye contact with him.”
The water is warm as I ease into it, like sliding into a bath. Evander’s wings drag along the surface as he moves closer, his stare holding mine, ravenous. I back up until my spine hits the pool’s edge, trapped between stone and six-plus feet of barely controlled god.
“Stop running.” Alexios settles on the pool’s edge, rolling up his sleeves. “He needs to know you won’t fall apart right now.”
“I’m not—”
Evander’s hands slam against the stone on either side of my head, caging me in. This close, I can see the thin ring of gold still fighting against the black of his pupils.
“Hi,” I whisper, reaching up to touch his face.
He turns into my palm, dragging his teeth across my skin. Not quite a bite, but close enough to make me shiver.
“Wash him,” Alexios tells me, sounding bored. “The water will heal the injuries.”
I cup my hands and sluice some liquid over him, soothing the hurts as best I can, cleaning his skin and wings with careful strokes. Some of the minor wounds begin to close under my ministrations.
Alexios reaches down to card his fingers through Evander’s wet hair. A shudder rolls through my Chosen at the touch, his eyes squeezing shut like it’s almost too much. The god-king’s grip tightens in silent reprimand when Evander tries to twist away.
Alexios’ molten gaze cuts to me, pinning me in place. “An Eternal fresh from slaughter needs someone strong enough to bring him back. Show me you know how to kiss your Chosen.”
I hesitate as I stare at Evander’s upturned face. At the need radiating from him. Even during Aethertide, he wasn’t this raw, this savage. Gliding my fingers into his hair, I cup his face in my palms and press my mouth to his in a slow, exploring caress.
Evander surges against me with a snarl to crush me closer, and I freeze, my hands resting uncertainly on his shoulders.
The god-king makes a chiding sound behind us.
“That’s not the kind of kiss he needs from you right now, Princess.
” Alexios grips Evander’s hair and wrenches him back from me, leaning down to graze his lips over his cheek.
“I’m going to show her how it’s done,” he whispers. “Get her all nice and ready for you.”
Then Alexios is claiming Evander’s mouth with the kind of searing intensity that makes the breath catch in my lungs. It’s filthy and merciless. Brutal and deep. Possessing and owning him so completely, there’s no space left for anything else.
Evander arches in Alexios’ bruising hold.
A harsh growl builds in his chest, and the sound vibrates through me, an answering heat spiking low in my core.
But the god-king only grips him tighter, one hand twisting in his hair while the other digs into his jaw.
Alexios angles Evander just the way he wants and keeps kissing him.
Biting his lower lip and soothing the sting with his tongue.
When the god-king finally pulls back, Evander’s pupils are blown wide, his chest heaving.
“That’s how you kiss a god who just killed for you,” Alexios says, voice rough. He kisses Evander again and breathes, “Like you’ll die if you don’t. Like you’ll destroy anyone who tries to take him from you.”
Like you’ll die if you don’t.
And I know what he’s telling me. What Evander needs from me. Take what’s yours.
So I yank Evander toward me and surge up to claim his lips, savoring the unique taste that’s purely him. He groans softly as his hands map my curves, fingers digging in hard enough to bruise. He’s trying to relearn me by touch, by taste, making up for the severed bond the only way he can right now.
“Less gentle,” Alexios hisses. “Bite him, Bryony. Make him bleed for you.”
Obedience has never come naturally to me, but this? This is as easy as breathing. I sink my teeth into Evander’s bottom lip, and the copper-bright taste of his blood floods my mouth. His palms skim my sides to rest on the dip of my waist, yanking me close.
Alexios leans in, whispering, “He fought for you, Princess. He killed for a chance to keep you. So get on your knees and show him he’s your god.”
Yes.
I rake my nails down Evander’s chest, loving the way he arches into the sting, starving for it. I shove him backward, and he goes easily, letting me press him against the smooth rock ledge.
“Up,” I command. “Sit on the edge.”
Hunger flares in his expression, but he complies, leveraging himself out of the pool to settle beside Alexios.
I move until I’m poised between his legs.
With my eyes locked on his, I go to my knees in the shallows, the water lapping gently at the small of my back.
I glide my fingers up his thighs. When I wrap my hand around his cock, his breath hisses through clenched teeth, and the sound shoots straight between my legs.
Those burning eyes never leave mine as I bend to drag the flat of my tongue over his cock, licking the salty tang of his arousal. Savoring the taste of him.
His hands cup my head, urging me down. Not gentle.
Not asking. He’s past the point of permission, and honestly, so am I.
So I let him take what he needs. I hollow my cheeks and suck, reveling in each desperate thrust as he grips my hair and fucks into my mouth.
I relax my jaw and throat, letting him hit the back on every glide.
This is a Claiming in its own way. An act of worship. Of absolution. I inscribe my devotion into his skin with lips and tongue and careful scrapes of teeth. Over and over until I’m lost to the slick heat of him in my mouth.
A dark satisfaction settles into Alexios’ features as my eyes meet his. As he watches me take and give in equal measure.
“He’ll remember this,” Alexios says. “The way you submitted for him. The way you took him so deep when he needed to claim you.”
The water sloshes around us. I dig my nails into Evander’s thighs, offering myself up as the altar for his need.
Breaking him just to build him back up. Sending messages without words.
Use me. My hand slides down his cock, stroking.
Let me have it. I go down, taking him all the way to the back of my throat. I can take it.
Alexios bends forward and breathes in my ear, “Pleasure is another form of prayer. Tell me, little sacrifice. How holy do you feel right now?”
Lost in this moment, in the slick push-pull of mine-yours-ours, I feel powerful.
Like if I reached up to trace constellations, the stars would bend to accommodate my whims. Like I’m as eternal as the two males watching me.
This is a kind of revelation—a god coming undone by my lips, my touch.
There’s a certain brutal grace in his abandon.
In the little hitches in his breath, his hips lifting to thrust his cock deeper, his hand tightening in my hair when I get the right suction and movement.
He’s rough and reverent, controlled and fierce, all that need spilling out between us.
And I want it. I want to unravel him. To dig my fingers into all the dark and desperate places and put them back together again.
I want him to fucking own me.
My nails bite into Evander’s tensed thighs as I urge him deep.
His grip turns brutal in my hair. His thrusts go erratic, control slipping.
I take it all, welcome the slight burn, the fullness.
I suck harder, swirling my tongue, scraping my teeth lightly along the sensitive skin. His breathing turns ragged.
A low growl tears from him. Then he’s coming in hot pulses against my tongue.
I swallow everything he gives me, watching his head tip back, tendons straining.
There’s nothing more beautiful than Evander lost to bliss and ecstasy.
I soothe him through the aftershocks with little licks and sucks, and his grip on my hair gentles.
Then I sit back on my heels and raise my eyes to Alexios. I can only imagine what I must look like, naked and savage in my victory.
The god-king just smiles. “Well done, Princess.”
Evander slips into the water, his body loose and pliant now. Immediately, I gather him against me, cradling his head on my shoulder and burying my fingers in his feathers. A sigh shudders out of him as he rests his face in the crook of my neck, nuzzling close, scenting me. Then he shuts his eyes.
After a few moments, he relaxes and his breathing evens, then slows.
“Is he asleep?” I ask Alexios, stroking Evander’s tucked wings.
The god-king studies Evander. “Something like that. The magic works best when he’s not fighting it. He’ll be out for a bit.” Those red eyes cut to me. “Think you can handle him from here?”
I nod, fingers still mapping idle patterns along Evander’s back.
The god-king rises with a soft rustle of feathers and turns to go. But something has been bothering me since the Colosseum that I can’t ignore.
“They’re never going to accept me, are they?” I ask him. “The demis. No matter what I do or how hard I work, I’ll always be a Devaliant first.”
He pauses, glancing at me over his shoulder. “Truth?”
I hold my breath and nod.
“When they look at you, they see a descendant of the people who brutally murdered their families for power. Wounds that deep don’t heal pretty. Earning their respect will never be bloodless work, and even then, there are no guarantees.”
I swallow around the sudden tightness in my throat. A strange calm settles over me—I know what I have to do. “Then I’ll fight.”
His brows lift. “Fight?”
“I’ll waive my protection as Evander’s Chosen and fight in the arena like he did. Put me against any demi who challenges my place at his side. Let everyone see I can be a queen in more than just name.”
He studies me as if I’ve surprised him. “Then they get to use their full magic. If you have something to prove, don’t do it by half. Prepare to bleed for it.”
And die for it, he doesn’t say. But the message is clear, all the same.
I nod. “If I win, we’re done. You unbind Evander’s powers, forgive him for Hellevig, and give him his territory.”
“Deal. Tomorrow night, little sacrifice.”