Chapter 20
Chapter Twenty
Nova
“Nova...” My name on his lips somehow sounded like both a plea and a command rolled into one. Like a king not accustomed to asking permission for the things he wanted; unsure of how it was done, yet willing—at least in this moment—to try groveling for it.
For me .
He nuzzled his face more fully into my hair. Another warm breath, and then I was nodding, giving him permission, desperate for the tingling across my scalp to overtake the rest of my body.
His feather-light touch was abruptly gone, replaced by a far more possessive grip against my hip. He pulled my back flush against his chest as his fingers dug in, pinning me in place while his other hand traveled along my curves, delicious heat spreading from beneath his large palm as he grasped and fumbled at my clothing.
I felt a stirring low in my stomach, a tightness coiling without mercy. An anticipation, an ache, a need…or, no—it was the word he’d used earlier : A craving. The only real name for this insatiable feeling building between us.
Part of me still hated it. Hated him , even as I gave in and allowed his fingers to continue to explore, to slip beneath the hem of my shirt.
This was wrong, so breathtakingly wrong, and so against everything I had believed for years .
But I wanted his hands to keep roaming across my stomach. To continue inching higher, finding their way to my breasts. I needed him to do more than just chase shadows and drip light over my skin. I needed his fingers to find all my other places. Hidden places. Deeper places.
My balance swayed at the thought, and a quiet laugh rumbled in his chest before he said, “You could survive whatever dangerous magic we might summon, you claimed, yet you can’t even properly stand.”
“It’s been a long couple days of walking, in my defense.”
“Well, allow me to help steady you,” he said, pulling me even more fully to him, his lips brushing against the shell of my ear with the words. He kept his mouth close to that sensitive spot as his hand roved over my hip, moving toward my inner thigh. My body arched automatically, trying to pull his hand closer to my center. He sucked in a breath at the motion, shifting his weight from foot to foot, trying to balance.
“You don’t feel particularly steady yourself,” I teased, the words breathless and faint.
He raked a hand into my hair, the bite of his grip just shy of hurting. “An infuriating effect you seem to have on me.”
“Another cruel trick the universe is playing?”
“The cruelest yet.” He used the grip in my hair to tilt my head toward him, exposing my neck to his ravenous mouth.
Stars danced in my vision as he kissed and sucked against my throbbing pulse. I felt like I was falling—another slip of balance. Mine, or his, or both of ours, I didn’t know. But we eventually backed together toward stability, toward the raised platform and the bench centered upon it.
He sank onto the discolored cushions, dragging me down into his lap as he went. His hand smoothed across my body, encouraging me to stretch it out against his. I reached back as I did, hooking my arms around his neck. The pose felt wonderfully, terrifyingly intimate and vulnerable, even with my back to him, even with both of us remaining entirely clothed.
His lips were again pressed to the side of my neck an instant later. His leg wedged between mine, spreading them apart, leaving more room for his hand to cup the space between. He moved slowly, just as he’d said we should, applying pressure to my aching center with teasing strokes, yet leaving a barrier of clothing between us.
“And darker, still,” he murmured after a moment, the fingertips of his other hand trailing along my arm.
I blinked the stars from my eyes, focusing long enough to see what he meant; the markings upon my skin were so black they looked less like shadows and more like shining ink. His magic continued to build as well, the threads of it occasionally diving into my darkness, weaving us together in a heady combination of power and pleasure.
Magic.
We were supposed to be trying to see if we could connect more deeply, to access the hidden reserves of our power. To purposely control it. This was an experiment.
Magic.
Nothing more.
So when I moved my hips against him, I was thinking only of drawing out power , not pulling out his groans that vibrated so pleasantly against the back of my neck. I was not focused on the way his hand roamed under my shirt and uncovered the bare curves of my breasts. Not the way that hand traced and pinched the velvety tip of one into a perfectly erect point, either—or the way his other hand continued to work between my legs, finally sliding beneath my clothes and finding the dampness awaiting him. And I was certainly not focused on the way his breath audibly caught at the feel of that dampness and his touch became rougher, less restrained.
The room seemed more alive than ever—bright and shivering with a power that heightened all my senses, almost to the point of ecstasy. The air felt less heavy, somehow. The banners hanging above us started to sway and flutter as if stirred by a gentle breeze.
The hand teasing my breasts stilled, and Aleksander pulled the other one from between my legs. I started to protest only to be silenced by his fingers slipping into my mouth. I was so aroused by this that my first instinct was to try and pull them in more fully, more deeply—a move that had his cock twitching against my backside.
“ Fuck ,” he growled.
I pulled my mouth away from his fingers, dragging my lips over them as I went. “I would be willing, but I don’t think that would count as going slowly. ”
He let out something between a harsh laugh and a curse.
I pressed harder against him, rolling my hips a bit.
He responded to my taunting by slipping his hand back between my legs and plunging two wet fingers inside of me.
I cried out from a combination of shock and pleasure, and he moved the hand from my chest to instead cover my mouth.
“We’re trying not to be overheard, if you’ll recall,” he said as his hand moved away from my mouth and down across my body once more, skimming over my stomach, joining the other in worshipping my sex. While that hand stretched me further to accommodate him, his fingers slid in and out of me at a torturously slow pace, thrusting deeper each time, pressing and curling against my inside walls until I was biting back a moan.
I kept one arm looped around his neck for balance, but with the other I reached down to grip the hand with its fingers inside of me, urging him even deeper.
Aleksander pressed his face closer to mine, his voice low as he said, “Eager to use your hands again tonight, I see.”
I blushed, remembering our conversation from the shore of Nyras. “I’m very good with them, if you’ll recall.”
With a low, dark laugh, he said, “It’s still no substitute for what I could do for you, if you’d like me to.”
Those last five words succeeded in turning what remained of my rational thoughts into a useless pile of mush.
“So we’ve given up on going slowly , have we?” I purred.
His lips trailed along my jawline, nipping at my earlobe. “Say the word, and I’ll stop.”
I swallowed hard, as if to clear a path for such a word. But I couldn’t say it. I couldn’t seem to say anything while he was kissing my face, my neck, my hair so hungrily; while his fingers continued to fill me, to move against me with such perfect, expert strokes.
If you’d like me to .
There were far too many things I would have liked him to do in that moment.
He shifted beneath me, sitting up slightly, angling himself so his fingers could penetrate more fully.
My head tipped back. Both my arms dropped to my sides, hands grappling for the edge of the bench, searching for something else to steady myself against.
As soon as I gripped the wood, a vision flooded my mind.
The chatter of the crowd I’d heard earlier returned in a deafening rush, violently jerking me out of my rapture. I blinked, and the scenery flickered; suddenly, there were other benches below the platform I sat upon, all of them filled with smartly dressed people, their jewels glittering in the light of countless chandeliers.
Another blink, and those chandeliers burned much lower; a performance was underway on a stage in the room below—a tragedy, judging by the distraught faces around me, and by the sudden rush of anguish that overtook me.
I leapt from Aleksander’s lap so quickly I tripped. I would have slammed head-first into the floor if not for the way he reflexively hooked an arm around me, slowing my fall. He tumbled with me off the bench, and we were a mess of tangled limbs and breathless, confused cursing for a moment before we managed to pull apart and face one another.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
All of this , hissed a scathing, terrified voice in the back of my mind. But I couldn’t speak; I was still breathing too hard, my thoughts racing too wildly from my latest strange vision.
It had reminded me, again, of my mother. Of the plays we used to attend in our royal city. Of the world I’d once belonged to, and how thoroughly ruined it all was. How I’d thought I knew how to fix it all, just days ago. But now…
I slowly rose to my feet. The floorboards continued to shiver and sigh underneath us. The twisting remnants of our combined magic filled the air. As I stared at a particularly dark and curling strand, I was transported all the way back to the beginning of this—to the night of my birthday. The sight of the shadows channeling violently through my body. The breaking ground. The bodies falling. The screams echoing.
Aleksander’s touch might have distracted me more than it should have, and our magic might have created balance and life where it shouldn’t have existed, but some things still hadn’t changed.
I still couldn’t trust him. Our kingdoms were still enemies. And this realm we stood within was still Hell. I would be a fool to forget any of that, regardless of the shiny veil our magic might have draped over it all.
“Nova?”
Three times .
He’d now used my actual name three times today. And this was twice, now, that he’d caught me as I tumbled off balance—first in the waves of Lake Nyras, and now in the waves of memory and the strange haunting visions that kept popping up at the worst possible times.
What’s wrong? he’d asked.
And the concern in his eyes…
Why was it so much harder to endure that concern than it was to deal with his insults and cruel taunts? Why did it frighten me even more than all my haunting visions combined?
“It’s this,” I whispered, watching him closely as he got to his feet as well. “All of this.” Taking a deep, steadying breath, I said, “I lost everything the night your sword somehow ended up in my father’s chest.”
“I didn’t—”
“I know . I heard you before, when you claimed innocence. But I have spent seven years believing you were my enemy—that there was a path to redemption and healing if I could just find that cursed sword of yours and then confront the one who sits on the Elarithian throne. But now I’m here, and nothing in this realm is like I expected it to be, and you…” I took a step back, clenching and unclenching my fists, trying to settle my frustration enough to keep talking. “None of it makes any sense.”
He settled back on the bench, clasping his hands behind his head and tilting his face to the ceiling. Even though the pose suggested exasperation, he still managed to appear calm—perfectly poised and regal—and I hated him all over again for it.
“I don’t understand it.” I wanted to scream. Instead, my voice came out hoarse, just shy of cracking as I said, “I don’t understand any of it.”
After a weighted pause, he said, “I want answers, too. And you are the last person I wanted to search for them with. But here we are.” He looked down and met my eyes—truly met them—and he shifted one of the hands behind his head, as though he was considering reaching it out to me. The beginnings of a truce, however feeble.
I couldn’t bring myself to encourage that truce along. Maybe it was stubbornness. Or fear. Or maybe it was because I had wrapped myself so tightly in plans for revenge for so long, that now I couldn’t even imagine what else could possibly grow between us.
Nothing else felt real.
Nothing else felt safe.
So I simply shoved the mess of my feelings down for the moment. Pushed it all down. Pushed it all back. Buried it all, just like I always did, as if that would kill off these feelings and make them into something I could control.
I had a terrible feeling, though, that whatever was building between Aleksander and me would not be so easily laid to rest.
“I need to go find Thalia,” I told him, evenly. “We need to make a plan to get out of this city as quickly as possible, as we said earlier. I’m sorry I got carried away a moment ago. Let’s…” I forced a cordial smile. “Let’s just pretend it never happened.”
He stood, an unreadable mask falling over his face. He didn’t agree or disagree with my plan to pretend, nor did he try to close the distance between us as I thought he might.
I didn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing my growing confusion and irritation; I headed for the stairs and started down without another word. I was moving so fast by the time I reached the bottom that I nearly collided with the person starting to climb them—Kaelen.
He caught my arm in a strong grip, steadying me. “Sorry to startle you. I hope I’m not interrupting anything?”
I threw a glance over my shoulder.
Aleksander now sat on the top step, elbows propped on his knees, chin resting on his hands. Perfectly composed once more. As if he’d been sitting there all afternoon, drinking in the room and all its tarnished and dusty splendor, contemplating it.
“Nothing at all,” I said to Kaelen, all my lingering frustrations making my voice cold as ice.
“Good. Because I’ve been looking for you,” he said, drawing my gaze back to him.
“…Have you?”
He nodded. “I was wondering if you would care for a proper tour of the city?” He didn’t explicitly state it, but it was clear enough by the way his eyes focused on me and only me: He intended for this to be a private tour.
Aleksander’s stare was like a tangible blade carving into my back, suddenly.
Desire curled through me before I could guard against it.
We weren’t finished with what we’d started, regardless of how quickly I’d made my escape.
And for a brief moment, I wanted him to stop me. To show concern. To challenge the sovereign of Erebos on my behalf. To drag me off somewhere so we could finish things.
For an instant , I thought perhaps we could be more than a pair of wayward souls caught in this strange hell, forced together by confusing, unfortunate circumstances.
But the King of Light didn’t move from his place at the top of the steps. He’d redirected his glare to the ceiling, his face betraying no hint of concern for anything below it. Certainly not for me. Our experimenting for the day was over, and, clearly, he didn’t care what I planned to do next.
Kaelen cleared his throat, expectant.
I shouldn’t have answered that expectation. I knew this man—this so-called Reaper —before me was not someone I could trust. But more than any of that, I wanted answers . Even if it meant taking a risk to get them. It wouldn’t have been the first time I’d danced along the edge of a wolf’s mouth to get what I needed.
So I calmly turned to Kaelen and said, “Lead the way.”