Chapter 38
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Nova
It was after midnight before we finally returned to the palace. We moved like we’d spent the night at the tavern; stumbling about, our voices low and filled with laughter. Aleksander’s arm was hooked loosely around my waist, helping me balance on increasingly tired legs. Or maybe I was helping him balance; it was hard to say.
I was thinking only of how I didn’t want the night to end when Aleksander’s arm suddenly tightened protectively and drew me to a stop.
The happiness I’d been trying to cling to burst the instant I saw them—three men standing by a window at the end of the hall. Two, I didn’t recognize, but the third…
“Kaelen?”
He turned at the sound of my voice, giving a slight bow as our eyes met.
I fought the urge to reach for my shoulder, even though the wound I’d sustained in his city had been healed for weeks now.
Cautiously, I approached and allowed him to introduce me to his two companions, Jorath and Marek—also keepers of sanctuary cities like Erebos, though their own cities were much smaller, if I recalled the lessons Thalia had given me correctly.
“We were just talking about you and your impressive magic,” Kaelen said.
I nodded slowly, as graciously as I could. There was a reason my brother had invited him here, despite the messiness of my last encounter with him; he was powerful, and a potentially invaluable ally—even if he’d made questionable choices.
Most of the people around me had made questionable choices, my brother included. I hadn’t forgiven them. But I could understand them. I’d only been in this world a short time, and already, I could feel the desperation permeating my soul, threatening to skew my own judgment.
Meanwhile, they had been watching the decay of this world for decades. Their entire lives must have felt like being trapped on the edge of a cliff, feeling the ground trembling beneath them as they waited for the inevitable fall—and they were simply grabbing on to whatever they could.
Kaelen’s gaze traveled over Aleksander. “And I see you’re still keeping close to her as well.”
“Yes,” Aleks replied, coolly. “It seems escaping your attempts to murder us really brought the two of us closer together. I suppose I should thank you for that.”
A muscle twitched in Kaelen’s jaw. “You twist the truth, Lightwielder.”
I put a hand on Aleksander’s chest, angling myself between him and Kaelen before either could speak another word. “It’s late,” I said, pointedly, “and all truths are in danger of being twisted at this hour, I’d say. Let’s leave our conversation for our more official, planned meeting, shall we?”
The Noctarisan leaders didn’t argue. All three offered polite bows before we turned and walked away.
“I don’t trust him,” Aleks muttered.
“I don’t, either. But I’m tired of talking to other people tonight; I just want to go somewhere more private.”
He gave my hand a small, understanding squeeze. We didn’t look back. He walked me to my room, following me inside without uttering another word about Kaelen or anyone else.
As I slipped off his coat and moved to drape it over a chair, I noticed a gift waiting for me in the center of my bed: The violin from the music shop, freshly polished and adorned with an orange ribbon.
“That old shopkeeper moved impressively quickly,” Aleksander commented.
I turned to him. “You did this?”
He shrugged, but a sly grin flirted with the corner of his lips. “I merely arranged for it to be delivered. The shopkeeper was happy to gift it to you; he fell in love with you, I think. Much like everyone else in the city.”
Everyone else…including you?
The question rose in my mind before I could stop it, but I couldn’t find the courage to ask it out loud.
Instead, I picked up the violin and its bow, smiling as I untied the ribbons around them. I’d smiled more tonight than I had in what felt like years; my cheeks were starting to ache from it.
“Thank you,” I told him.
“It’s really a selfish gift,” he said. “I just want to hear you play it more, that’s all.”
I blushed slightly, taking the gift and carrying it out onto the balcony, sighing happily as the crisp night air caressed my cheeks.
One of my favorite places to practice back at Rose Point had been atop the roof of the observatory that stood on the edge of the expansive grounds. It was always a transformative experience, especially at night—to send melodies with love into the open air, far away from the main manor, with wild woods stretching before me and stars wheeling overhead…it was one of the few times in my old life that I’d truly felt free .
And though it wasn’t as private, this balcony had become one of my favorite places in this palace. It was larger than it seemed at a glance, wrapping around the outer wall, and the spot around the corner felt secluded and set apart from everything else. I’d even slept out here a few times, curled up in one of the chairs or sprawled out on the larger lounge sofa, buried in blankets, letting the twinkling stars lull me to sleep.
This time, I stayed in the main part of the balcony, staring out at what I could see of the road that led to the front of the palace. There were riders approaching the gate. Five of them, in all.
More leaders, like Kaelen, who were answering my brother’s summons?
They must have been, given how calmly they were welcomed in at such a late hour.
“More company,” I muttered.
Aleks stepped to my side, bracing his hands against the railing and staring up at the nearly full moon. “Eleven days until the Equinox, isn’t it?”
Instead of replying, I settled the violin on my collarbone and steadied the bow in my hand, trying to remember the first notes of the ethereal, haunting tune I wanted to play—an old favorite of mine. I just wanted to go back in time for a moment. To ignore the grim uncertainty we faced for a little while longer.
The music came easier than it had earlier; maybe because I had a smaller audience, and I was less afraid of making a mistake in front of Aleks. The notes flowed smoothly into the delicate, swirling melody, casting a spell over the space, and for a moment—just a heartbeat—everything seemed to vanish except for the sound; the hum of strings; the glide of the bow; the deep, rich timbre of my instrument.
Aleks turned and leaned his back against the railing, hands in his pockets, listening to me play with a slight smile on his lips. He didn’t speak even after I’d finished. But he stepped toward me as I set the instrument aside, and he wrapped his arms around me from behind—an even more satisfying distraction than music.
His hands moved with the same artistry he’d possessed when playing piano, fingertips skimming over my body with a smooth, easy confidence. They roamed along the curves accented by the bodice of my dress, eventually settling on my hips, holding me in place while his lips swept down my neck and across my shoulder.
There was no music—the stars provided our only symphony, and they were silent and cold—but after a moment, he took my hand, spinning me as if we were in the middle of an elegant waltz. We ended up facing one another. He brought my hand to his mouth and brushed a kiss across my knuckles, then several more up the length of my arm before pulling me in and softly meeting my lips with his.
His eyes caught the moonlight when he pulled away, their golden color shimmering with a beauty that seemed almost inhuman. The sight transported me once more to the last night we’d spent in the Above together. To his radiant, handsome figure approaching me in the dark garden, smiling at me despite the grave-dirt on my hands. He’d kissed my hand then, too, and I’d been caught up in his gaze, and in the possibility of us —but for different reasons.
Now my reasons felt deeper, heavier, far more frightening than the prospect of a political marriage I’d faced all those years ago.
My heart raced. He must have felt it, because his head tilted as he absently stroked my knuckles with his thumb, and he asked, “What are you thinking, my Chaos?”
I hesitated. “About a conversation I had with Zayn the other day.”
“...Oh?”
“He mentioned…” I trailed off. Swallowed hard. Tried again. “He pointed out that I favor Calista.”
The answer clearly surprised him; he didn’t seem to know how to reply.
“And I wonder if…as his descendant…if you favor Argoth,” I said.
The meaning behind my words seemed to slowly dawn on him. “Nova…”
“In a way, it feels like we’re living out the love story they never got to finish, doesn’t it?”
He brushed aside a tendril of hair that had escaped from my partial-updo, letting his fingertips linger against my cheek.
“Just…” My voice grew thick. “Just tell me we aren’t a tragedy like they ended up being.”
His brow furrowed in thought, but he didn’t answer right away.
Nearly a full minute passed.
It wasn’t a fair question, I decided; who could really answer such a thing?
“Sorry,” I whispered, starting to turn away. “It’s late. I’m tired and speaking nonsense. Never mind, I should—”
He grabbed my arm, spinning me back toward him. My heart leapt into my throat.
No man had ever looked at me the way he was looking at me in that moment.
“There is nothing tragic about the fact that I met you here in this world,” he said, taking my face in his hands. “Or about the way I feel when I kiss you, or when your body curves next to mine when we sleep. Nothing I could possibly regret about the way I find calm in your chaos and solace in your shadows, and if we end up ripped apart and ruined, it will still have been worth it all.” He gripped me tighter and bowed his head against mine, as if in prayer. “And so no—no, I don’t consider us a tragedy. At all.”
I’d stopped breathing at some point; his hands, still clutching my face, were the only things that kept me from toppling over as a wave of dizziness struck.
I managed to take a breath. And then to swallow. To lick the dryness from my lips. His gaze followed each of these subtle motions, the hunger in them growing with every passing heartbeat.
I’m not sure who moved first.
I blinked, and suddenly our lips were together, our hands fumbling, trying to simultaneously peel off clothing while touching every inch of one another.
After several deep kisses, he drew back and managed to focus enough to grind out a breathless command: “Turn around.”
I did, and he immediately started to undo the ties along the back of my dress. Despite the desperate world and war we’d found ourselves in, his hands didn’t feel desperate against my body. They felt deliberate. Careful. Reverent as they stripped off my clothing, piece by piece and layer by layer.
The chill still lingered in the air, but it was less noticeable as his fervent energy tangled with mine, as I felt his magic rising in response to my quickened breaths and pounding heartbeats, creating a cocoon of warmth around us.
And I forgot about the cold altogether when I turned and saw him unbuttoning his shirt and tossing it aside, slipping off his belt, letting his trousers hang deliciously low on his hips.
If I could only memorize this image of him, I might never be cold again.
The moonlight hit his bare chest at all the right angles, skimming over hard ridges, across all the scars he’d endured, highlighting the muscular lines that drew my eyes down to the impressive bulge hidden just beneath his low hanging pants.
The heat spiking through me became unbearable; my hands were on him before I realized what I was doing, my fingers clawing at what remained of his clothing, stripping it off. My lips collided with his; I felt him smiling at my eagerness just before his grip on me became ruthless, his hands digging into the fleshy backs of my thighs before he lifted me with ease, wrapping my legs around his waist.
Every point of contact between us was agonizing, heavenly, maddening—somehow both too much yet not enough.
He carried me around the corner, toward the lounge and the pile of blankets waiting there. He started to lay me down, but I stole a kiss as he did so—one that quickly turned deeper, his tongue dancing against mine, his moans vibrating down my throat.
The next thing I knew, my back was against the wall behind the sofa, his mouth continuing to ravage mine until I was gasping, begging for breath.
He drew back only inches to allow that breath, and he continued to tease my lips with gentle nibbling and sucking for a moment before he paused long enough to say, “You have no idea how close I came to doing this in front of every citizen of Tarnath, our guards included.”
My toes curled at the thought.
“No idea how badly I wanted this.” He loosened his grip somewhat, allowing my feet to fall back to the ground, so that his hand could slip more easily between my legs.
I gasped as his fingers plunged inside of me, the resulting pleasure that throbbed through me nearly making my knees buckle.
“As badly as you wanted it, too,” he said, huskily, “judging by this sweetness pooling between your legs.” He withdrew his fingers and brought them to his mouth, licking them clean with the same enthusiasm I’d devoured the cupcake frosting with earlier.
He dropped to one knee. Lifted one of my legs and balanced it over his shoulder, opening my thighs so he could press his face between them. My hands tangled in the waves of his hair, gripping tightly as he worked his tongue against me—slow, languorous licks and gentle breaths before darting it more fully, more forcefully inside.
I was melting into the wall, oblivious to its cold roughness. Arching my back, despite the sharp bite of its bricks, trying to pull him in more deeply. Bracing one hand against the palace while the other stayed in his hair, trying to maintain balance among the waves of heat and ecstasy rocking through me.
He started to draw back minutes later—just as I felt the beginning of a release and started to chase it—and I gasped out a series of curses in response.
The wicked gleam returned to his gaze as he straightened back to his full height, cupping my chin and tilting my gaze up to his. “Are we already getting impatient?”
I replied by taking his hand and leading him toward the lounge, easing him back onto the cushions.
Crawling on top, straddling his body, I leaned down and claimed his mouth with mine. My hair loosened further from its clips, falling in a messy curtain between us. He shoved one hand into the waves, gripping my head and pulling me harder against his mouth, deepening our kiss. His other hand smoothed its way down my back, over the curve of my ass, cupping me between the legs. His fingers stroked, pinched, and gently prodded until they were fully coated with my arousal. Then both of his hands were gripping me, guiding my hips lower, dragging my center across his hard length.
The first brush against him nearly had me collapsing into a quivering heap against his sweat-slicked chest. But I stayed upright, rocking my hips, chasing more. As I increased the pressure, he sucked in a sharp breath, and the sound brought me perilously close to release once more.
I drew back, wanting to make this last as long as possible.
I kissed a trail from his neck over his chest, taking the time to press my lips against every scar. Then lower, down across the hard ridges of his abdomen, before finally letting my tongue dance across the tip of his cock. After a few teasing lashes, I took him farther into my mouth, my eyes lifting toward his face to watch his reaction.
It was an incredible thing, that reaction.
His head tilted back. His eyes fluttered shut, his normally tense brow relaxing as his lips parted slightly.
I’d never seen him look so close to… surrender.
His fingers tangled in my hair once again, holding me in place as he rolled his hips, pushing himself deeper into my throat. After a few more thrusts like this, a sound somewhere between rapture and ruin tore through him. He grabbed my face in his hands once more, dragging me up across his body, bringing my mouth to his and into a sloppy, savage kiss.
Then his arms wrapped around my waist, pulling me against him, keeping my knees on either side of his thighs as he sat upright and planted his feet on the floor.
I settled into his lap, somehow fighting the urge to immediately start moving my hips once more.
As we balanced there, a tangled mess of pounding hearts and throbbing need, he paused, swiping the hair from my face, tucking it behind my ears. He looked mesmerized, almost. He began to kiss me more slowly—everything he could put his lips on. Every inch of heated skin he could taste. My face, my throat, the hardened peaks of my breasts.
“You lost our bet earlier,” he murmured in between kisses against my neck.
“I did.”
“Which means I’m due another prize.”
“It does, doesn’t it?”
“Mm.” He dug his fingers into my backside, tightening his grip, pulling me more firmly against him. “And that means this ends with me inside of you.”
“…Somehow, I don’t feel like I’m losing in that scenario.”
He smiled, lips back against my neck once more. “Now, I just have to decide how I want to take you.”
My breath caught and my eyes fluttered shut, imagining the possibilities.
“I’ve thought about bending you over almost every piece of furniture in this palace…” He lazily traced the shapes of my breasts before letting his touch trail down my sides, then lower, sweeping it along my legs, which were still tucked beside him. “But I like you on your knees like this, too.”
With no more warning than this, his hands slid under my thighs, jerking me up into a more upright kneeling position.
I draped my arms around his neck. While I balanced above him, he wrapped a hand around his erection, stroking it and teasing it across my entrance before slipping just the tip inside of me.
I leaned back slightly, trying to adjust to the thickness of him. His free hand reached up, fingers splaying across my throat, clawing down across my chest and stomach before settling on my hip, guiding me more fully onto him.
“Sit on it,” he instructed, his fingers digging deeper into my skin.
I sank against him, slowly, moaning softly as he filled me inch by inch. His thickness felt even more impressive than it had looked. Both of his hands settled on my backside, helping me balance while caressing and stretching me, encouraging me to sink lower.
“So perfectly tight,” he said, his grip on me strengthening, muscles flexing as he lifted me up and down on his cock in a slow, perfect rhythm. As I began to ride him more confidently—more smoothly—he lifted his hips to meet me with harder and harder thrusts, the sweet, slick sounds of our joining echoing through the night air.
He palmed the back of my head and pulled my face toward him, bringing his mouth to my ear, and growled, “Brace your hands against the back of the sofa.”
I did, leaning forward and burying my face in the side of his neck with the same motion. It felt both primal and intimate, curving against him while his motions grew rougher, faster, bringing us together with increasingly reckless passion.
The heat between us roared hotter. The sofa creaked beneath our shifting weight. The air filled with swirls of shadow and light, intertwining so tightly it was impossible to say what belonged to whom. For a few blissful minutes, it didn’t matter which magic was which—I was his, he was mine, and the world around us blurred, all its different sides and division undone by the sheer force of us .
As the first cries of my release rose in my throat, Aleks wrapped me in a powerful embrace, jerking me against him, burying himself more fully inside of me. His hands hooked over my shoulders, holding me to him as he followed me over the edge, and together we rode the waves of bliss to their peaceful, trembling end.
Once the last bits of my orgasm had shuddered through me, I crumpled against him, arms hanging around his neck, pulse still pounding. He leaned against the sofa’s backing, dragging me with him while reaching for a blanket to wrap around us.
We existed in a state of perfect contentment for a little while, oblivious to anything outside of the two of us.
Eventually, I untangled myself from him. He offered me his shirt. I slipped it on while he pulled his trousers back on, and then I promptly tucked myself back against his chest. He let his chin rest upon my head, his arm circled loosely around my waist, while I closed my eyes and slipped into a dream filled with music and a world that was bursting, vibrant and alive with color.
“I’m really earning quite the collection of prizes, aren’t I?” he said after a few minutes, the words whispering over my scalp, sending a pleasant tingle across it.
“And I’ve never been so gracious over a lost bet,” I replied, yawning.
His fingers skated up my spine before settling against the side of my head, stroking my hair. “Anytime you want to lose again, just let me know.”
I responded with a soft, sleepy laugh, closing my eyes once more as I nestled closer to his chest, burying myself in the comforting scent of him, and I tried to think of nothing else.
I woke to the sound of bells in the distance. Loud, pealing notes that ran through body like a cold wind. It was a traditional call to welcome visitors; my brother had mentioned it during our conversation yesterday. Warned me of it.
Aleks was already up, perched on the edge of the lounge, staring at the sky, which was the murkiest it had been since we came to this palace. When he noticed I was awake, he beckoned me over, wrapping me up in his arms and one of the heavier blankets we’d taken from my room.
We sat for a long time without speaking. It was tempting not to acknowledge the new day and the challenges awaiting us in it—as though ignoring these things would make them go away.
“The sky seems darker than usual, doesn’t it?” I whispered, more to myself than him.
He didn’t answer immediately, except to shift our position so he could slip his hand out from under the blanket. He twisted his wrist and subtly bent his fingers, drawing faint wisps of magic into his command.
A moment later, I watched a slant of light cut through the shadows on the wall beside us, casting a dazzling pattern that—at least, for a moment—distracted me from the dark and ominous sky.
I smiled softly at the memory of the last time he’d done this, and, just like when we were children, I found myself compelled to join him. My hand lifted as well, calling shadows into my palm, which I directed toward his floating fragments of light. They wove gently together, changing the patterns being projected on the grey bricks, creating a show of fluid, shifting shapes—shapes that seemed to be alive; a living tapestry of magic.
And as the different shades of our power danced, rising and falling together in an intricate harmony, I realized something.
I had fallen in love with him.
Everything seemed to still, just for a moment, including my heart.
If only I could have just stayed still.
But in my head, I knew better. The world had not stopped. Nothing had stopped. Not the Above. Not the Below. They were both careening toward a collision, toward battles I still didn’t know how to fight. Tomorrow was coming, and tomorrow I would have to face a room full of people who expected me to lead them. To save them. Regardless of who I loved.
I lost my focus on my shadows; they scattered, taking most of Aleksander’s light with them.
Another bell rang out, the sound low and hollow and cold, and my heart felt as if it might shatter.