Chapter 13
Truth hurts
JUDE
Lorien sighs as the attendants close the door to his chambers, and I don’t turn around. I’m too busy staring at the fucking gold cage that’s appeared in the corner of his chambers since we’ve been out.
“Jude…”
I ignore Lorien, stepping toward the cage with a barely contained rage.
Bile rises through my chest and crawls up my throat, while my heart doesn’t know whether to freeze or race and does some bizarre combination of the two.
My head pounds, simultaneously light enough to make me dizzy and heavy enough to make it impossible to focus.
My fingers tremble as I reach out and touch the gold bars, and the touch confirms my eyes are deceiving me.
“I had hoped you would enjoy this,” Lorien says.
I shudder and I feel Lorien behind me, his breath licking down my spine.
This isn’t pleasant, and the only thing that’s been enjoyable is that the darkness has given me a break from haunting me.
I’ve had a rest from the shadows that seem to linger at the edges of my vision, as if even they were afraid of this cage, as if its gold held them back.
“There is pleasure in submission, and in humiliation too. You will be free of responsibility when you are in it. Protected. Cherished even, while its bars remind you who owns you.”
I step back and Lorien holds my upper arms, rendering me at stand still and under his control in a moment.
He’s much stronger and much bigger than me, and there’s no point trying to fight him.
Not when his grip is firm, but careful, controlled in a way that reminds me just how much power he’s holding back.
His fingers dig just enough into my skin to keep me rooted, but not enough to bruise. It’s infuriating. Every gesture, every word he says is calculated, and I can’t decide if it’s worse that he knows exactly what he’s doing or that I’m starting to respond to it.
“Let me go.”
There’s no heat behind my words. No venom.
“Why?” he asks, his tone maddeningly calm. “So you can deny what you’re feeling? So you can run from what we both know is inevitable?”
“I’m not your fucking pet,” I snap, twisting in his hold, but it’s useless. He doesn’t even flinch.
“No,” he agrees, his breath brushing the shell of my ear. “You’re not. You’re mine. And there’s a difference, Jude.”
I hate the way my name sounds on his tongue, rich and dark and laced with danger.
I hate the way his presence overwhelms me, making it impossible to think, to breathe, to do anything but feel.
I hate the way I want to hate him, and yet I can’t bring myself to, not even now.
Not even when his golden eyes burn into my soul with an intensity that makes my knees weak.
“Come,” he says, pulling me away from the cage.
“You don’t have to fear what you’ll lose when you surrender.
You’ll gain so much more, Jude, and I’ll keep you safe.
The cage isn’t just a punishment. It’s a promise.
A promise that you’ll always have a place here, with me.
That no matter what happens, no matter what you do, that you are mine, and you’ll never be unwanted. ”
There’s something in his voice that makes me want to believe him. Something in the way he looks at me that makes me think he means it.
“And I offer you something I have never given any other,” Lorien says, as if whatever comes next is painful. “I do not…”
He exhales sharply, the weight of the admission etched into the tension in his jaw. His golden eyes flicker, a brief flash of vulnerability breaking through the mask of control he wears so effortlessly.
“I do not apologize. Ever.”
He sits and leans forward, his elbows resting on his knees, hands clasped together tightly as though he’s holding himself in place.
“But with you, Jude… things are different. You’re different. And I can’t ignore that.”
He pauses and in the world rearranges itself in the few seconds of silence. Lorien changes and it’s small enough you could almost miss it and large enough to start a tsunami. The bedrock of his being has altered, and I know I’m witnessing something no one else ever has.
“I am sorry. For Orlith. For what he did and how he made you feel. I will deal with it, and you have my word that you are protected. From everyone. No matter their station, Jude.”
His words hit harder than they should, and I hate how much they affect me. Hate how much I want to believe him. But most of all, I hate that deep down, I already do.
“Come,” he pats the sofa.
I sit and hate myself for obeying him.
Lorien smiles and pulls my head down, resting it on his lap. He’s not asking for anything more than this, anything more than for me to stay here with him, while I let him soothe me. His hands stroke my head, his fingers weaving through my hair and his touch dipping into my soul.
His touch is slow, careful, as if he’s memorizing every strand of hair, every curve of my scalp. He’s telling me I don’t have to do this alone, that he’s here and all I have to do is give in to him. To surrender to him.
And I do not know if I can do it.
“You don’t have to carry it all alone,” he murmurs, his voice low and warm, washing over me like a tide. “You’ve spent too long fighting, Jude. Let me help you. Let me…” His fingers pause for a moment before resuming their gentle strokes. “Let me care for you.”
It’s too much, the tenderness in his tone, the way his words feel like a balm to wounds I didn’t even realize were still bleeding. My throat tightens, and I fight to keep my breathing steady, unwilling to let him see how much he’s affecting me.
But he knows. Of course, he knows.
We sit there in silence, the tension between us ebbing and flowing like the tide. His hands never stop moving, never stop soothing, and for a time, I let myself sink into the quiet comfort of it. I let myself imagine what it might feel like to believe him. To trust him.
The moment shatters when the door to Lorien’s chambers bursts open without warning. Soren strides in, his expression dark, his gaze flicking between us with a mix of annoyance and urgency.
“You could knock,” Lorien says coldly, his fingers still threading through my hair. I start to move and he holds me still. “You will stay.”
“You paraded him through court?” Soren asks coldly, his eyes narrowing at me before shifting back to Lorien. “What were you thinking, Lorien? He’s not ready. You’re not ready. The court is in uproar.”
Lorien sighs, his hand lingering on my head. “He did well. Orlith was the problem.”
Soren scoffs and paces, and I experience how irritating it is to be still while someone else is moving relentlessly.
“The court is teetering on chaos, Lorien,” Soren says, his pacing growing more agitated.
“Half of them think you’ve gone mad, dragging a human into court, letting him talk back to Orlith no less.
The other half think you’re planning something drastic and are scared enough to start scheming against you before you act.
You’ve handed them kindling and a flame. ”
“Let them whisper,” Lorien replies, his voice steady, unconcerned. “The court thrives on rumors. A little chaos keeps them in line.”
Soren stops abruptly, turning to face Lorien. “You’re underestimating the ripple effects. And you’re keeping Jude in the dark. He doesn’t know what he’s walking into. Have you even told him what you’re keeping him for, let alone what the court expects from someone in his position?”
“He knows he’s my concubine.”
“Did he know before you paraded him around and announced it to Orlith?” Soren snaps, his composure slipping.
“Does he know what it means? For him? For the court? You can’t just claim someone without consequences, Lorien.
They’ll test him, push him to see how far your favor goes.
And what if he fails? What happens if you’re forced to punish him publicly? ”
Lorien draws a sharp breath and his hand stills on my shoulder.
“Perhaps it is time.”
“Explain it to him,” Soren continues, his voice sharp but not unkind as he gestures to me.
“Explain what it means to be your concubine, why he isn’t just a slave.
Tell him about Helena’s magic and the kelpies, and what he’s tangled up in.
And for the love of the ocean, start treating him properly. You owe him this much.”
Soren’s words hang in the air, a weight that presses against my chest and almost crushes me. Concubine. The word feels foreign, sharp-edged and wrong, but it sticks to me like a brand. I look between the two of them, my voice caught somewhere between confusion and anger.
“I said I would do it, Soren.” Lorien sighs, his hand running down my back. “It’s not as simple as he makes it sound, Jude.”
For the first time since I’ve been here, Lorien looks truly uneasy.
His jaw tightens, the sharp line of it catching the glow of the bioluminescent lamps.
His golden eyes flick away from mine, restless and searching, like he’s hunting for words that won’t come.
Even his ever-present aura of dominance falters, replaced by something quieter, something raw and exposed.
“It means you’re under my protection,” he says finally.
“It means you’re mine, in every way that matters and that you belong to me, and only me, in every sense of the word.
It means no one can touch you without my permission, or harm you without facing my wrath, and that you have my favor above all others.
That you are the thing I value more than any other, in all the ocean and its depths. ”
The room feels too small, the walls closing in as his words sink in. I pull back, my chest tight.
“That’s not protection,” I say, my voice shaking. “That’s a cage.”
Lorien’s gaze hardens. “It’s both. And you’ll learn to appreciate it.”