Chapter 35 Lore
THIRTY-FIVE
Lore
I WAS STILL grappling with the fragmented memories, of feeling detached from who I’d been and who I was and not understanding how to rejoin both parts of myself, when the prince ascended the dais, his body brushing against mine as he stepped behind me.
“But not nearly as much as I have.” His mouth brushed against my neck. “Ascend, Your Majesty. Fully awaken.”
I stared at the throne. The dark stone seemed to pulse with that strange heartbeat I’d felt before, slow and insistent, like the realm itself was holding its breath. As I lowered myself onto the seat, cold surged up my spine.
The moment my skin made contact with the obsidian stone, power roared through me. Not in a gentle swell, but in crashing waves.
I gasped as it filled me, rooted me to this body, this time.
For the first time in ages, I felt like I was finally… home. But not in the sense of the place, more in the unification. As if my soul had been fused together again.
The calm feeling didn’t last. The hunger came next. It was a dark need that coiled around my ribs like a serpent, whispering for horrible things.
I wanted my court to be here, I wanted them to kneel. I wanted fear glazing their eyes as they finally stared up at me. I craved their blood on the floor, needing to hear the devotion in their screams as they begged for my blessing.
It hadn’t always been that way. I hadn’t ruled here by choice. And I’d taken my anger out on those weaker. This was not my true home. It was my prison. And I’d made everyone in this realm suffer along with me. It used to be a dreamworld, but I’d turned it into a nightmare.
I gripped the arms of the throne until my fingers ached. That wasn’t me, that vicious, cruel being. I’d fought too hard to overcome those cravings.
But the throne remembered who I had been the last time I sat upon it.
And it wanted her back.
I breathed in and exhaled, refusing to submit to the lure of the darkness.
Something about this moment felt like part of a test, though I was starting to forget the specifics. The throne thrummed beneath me. It reminded me that I was the one who set the rules. Everyone else was beneath us.
And anyone who dared to chain me would suffer the wrath of a goddess.
The craving for that power grew stronger, sinking claws into the last remaining tender parts of me. The mortal vessel that had longed for love, and to be seen for who she was. Just to prove that her life was as adventurous as her books. The consummate dreamer.
The darkness seeping into me from the throne promised I’d never be weak again, never be fearful of the trappings of love. I would never be powerless.
All I had to do was let go, give in, allow the darkness to crown me its queen and use me as an instrument of its will.
I clenched my jaw, fighting against the pull. It was like a tidal wave dragging me under. And I had one fleeting thought before darkness swept in; I had to remember who I was, who I chose to be, before the throne and this realm decided for me.
I shot up from the throne and made to leave the dais, when the male who’d been standing by seized me by my waist, and in one inhumanly fast motion, he spun around and settled onto my throne, positioning me on his lap.
I felt the power of the throne reach for me even through his body. It was a siren’s song. And I was getting lured deeper. Or maybe it was the Liber Noctem itself.
I struggled to hold on to the tether inside me, the spark of light.
The male chuckled, his voice deep and rumbling.
He’d made the sort of bold, possessive move that I enjoyed, but it felt… not quite wrong, but hollow. I was missing something.
A tug in my chest caught my attention. It felt like a thread someone else had pulled and at the other end I’d find all the answers and clarity I desired.
I considered following to see where it led.
The male, Sloth, I finally recalled, dragged me back against him, his hands firm and commanding. The move was meant to distract and it almost worked.
It would be easy to sit on his lap, enjoy his company, and feel the power of my throne surge through me, obliterating all doubt and worry.
I wondered what it would feel like, to no longer have fears.
The insistent tug grew weaker, releasing me from my curiosity.
I glanced up and drew in a sharp breath that had nothing to do with the male growing hard as granite beneath me. I didn’t think it was my body, but my power that turned him on.
Members of the Court of Fear were no longer hidden in shadow.
They were bowed low in supplication, awaiting permission to rise.
My attention skimmed over the assortment of courtiers. Some were horned beasts with humanoid bodies; some were as beautiful as fallen angels.
All were dressed in fine fabrics and jewels. As if they feared my wrath for insulting me by not wearing their best.
Sloth suddenly started to trace his fingers along my sides in gentle, sweeping motions that were hard to ignore.
Perched on his lap, I felt the firm press of his arousal against me.
Part of me wanted to indulge in some fun, but a different part almost felt like it was screaming to wake up.
But I was awake now, wasn’t I? After what felt like an eternity, I was here, in my court, with the dark book’s host by my side. My magic was with me, no longer bound to a book.
And he was attractive, powerful. Everything I’d normally enjoy.
As if innately in tune with my thoughts, his hands slowly traveled upward.
There was nothing soft or gentle in his touch now; it was hot, possessive, demanding.
Was that what I’d just craved in my head? Had he plucked the thought from my mind? Something felt… off.
I closed my eyes for a moment, relishing the sensation.
If I’d been trapped in a nightmare, was this now a dream? It didn’t quite feel like one. But perhaps the problem was me. I was unsettled. If I’d regained my full power from the Book of Nightmares, I wasn’t sure why Sloth was still here.
It felt like an illusion or dreamscape; nothing was clear or solid.
Except for the male I sat upon. He was solid, warm. But that nagging feeling of him being another figment of my imagination wouldn’t relent.
He seemed to be too in tune with my desires. Like he was plucking them directly from my head and making them real seconds after I felt them.
I peered out at my court again.
They remained in their submissive postures, heads respectfully bowed, as if they were statues lined up for viewing in a sculpture gallery. Were they real or—
Sloth ground against me a little, drawing my attention back to him.
He felt real enough.
Perhaps if I took him to my bed I’d feel more grounded.
Or maybe I was meant to be… his hips shifted beneath me again.
For some reason, I knew this seemed out of character for him. I couldn’t picture him putting on such a public display.
But maybe I hadn’t really known him that well.
Everything was so confusing.
The longer I sat on the throne, the more my thoughts grew muddled.
He began to trail open-mouthed kisses along the column of my throat, and my mind emptied.
The thought that we could indulge in each other right here on my throne, without my court daring to lift their gazes to watch us, filled me with a heady rush that had little to do with partaking in such debauchery.
This was the power of fear.
Heat pooled between my thighs, and I tried to force my thoughts elsewhere, but the male beneath me was determined to distract me. And my throne was sending a constant stream of magic out that felt too good to ignore.
He boldly cupped my breast, rolling its taut peak between his fingers.
I wasn’t sure why I felt… nothing. Except that growing unease.
I slipped my hand into the slit on the side of my bodice, suddenly remembering the weapons belt I’d been wearing. My fingers closed around the familiar stiffness of the leather belt and pouch, and relief speared through me.
The phoenix tear was still in my possession.
It was the first memory I had that wasn’t muddled.
And with it came a few others that grounded me back in my body.
I didn’t let on that my mind was clearing, the fog dissipating. Somehow, someway, the stone was counteracting the dark power.
I needed to plot carefully.
Sloth continued to drag his lips and teeth over the sensitive skin of my neck, and the more he lost himself in my body, the surer I became that this wasn’t real.
Lord Stoic was far too reserved to put on such a debauched show. This was the work of my dark romance-addled fantasies.
Ugh. The Liber Noctem was clever.
This nightmare was far too tempting, but having the prince lay claim to me in front of an entire court wasn’t the scary thought the dark book believed.
It really had no idea, the sort of twisted fiction I enjoyed.
All my favorite romantic fantasy stories had some version of a sexy throne scene. And while it was very tempting to live out this fantasy, I would not be fooled into failing my test.
The Liber Noctem version of Sloth’s hands were under my skirts now, his hand possessively clamped just above my knee.
His thumb moved in slow strokes along my inner thigh.
His hand moved higher, and—
I pulled the phoenix tear from the secret pouch hidden under my gown and let my magic carry me away.
Honestly, I deserved some kind of medal for being strong enough to leave Sloth when things were about to get good.
But there was no way I’d bring about the end of the realms because I’d gotten seduced by Dark Sloth on a throne and then went all Goddess of Night on everyone again. I was close to finishing the Trials; I felt it. And I would win.
My shadow magic unfurled, and I went crashing to the ground.
Sounds came at me all at once.
“Lore!” My brother crouched in front of me, his face a mask of worry. “Dear gods. Are you all right?”
I slowly blinked up at him, disoriented. “Fable? How are you here?”
My brother searched my eyes.
“We’re at the caravan.”
He spoke slowly, as if he didn’t want to cause any alarm.
Too late. My heart was racing now.
“But I left the festival.”