Chapter 12 #4
He shuddered, chest heaving. “Pull back. Let me see.”
With my lips still wrapped around him, I pulled back just enough to show him what I held.
“Open wider,” he growled.
I obeyed.
“Good girl,” he murmured darkly. “Now—swallow.”
Never breaking eye contact, I tilted my head back and swallowed.
Dalkhan let out a low, vicious sound. Pride and hunger warred across his face as he bit his lower lip.
“Fuck. You don’t even know what that just did to me.”
He yanked me up into his lap, his hands hot against my waist. Gripping the nape of my neck, he claimed my mouth with his own.
“You’re mine, Elira.”
I finally realised where I was.
His chambers.
The smell of oud and fire lingered in the air. Even in his absence, his presence still flowed through the space, wrapping around me like an invisible chain.
Dalkhan had left vanished into smoke and shadow, but not without a parting command.
“Stay. I’m not done with you yet.”
I pulled the silken black sheet from his bed, wrapping it tightly around myself. The room was carved into the mountain’s peak, towering above the world. The entire length of one wall was open to the sky, a balcony that stretched endlessly into the night, letting the darkness spill in like water.
Pale moonlight pooled over the dark stone, casting shadows between the torches that lined the walls, their flames licking the air hungrily. Shadows seemed to shift and twist in the dim glow, as if watching me.
At the centre of it all, his massive bed was a throne in its own right. Linens tangled, furs spilling over the edge, the carved wooden frame commanding the space with silent authority.
Against the back wall, a familiar chair loomed.
My lips twitched, a flush flooding my cheeks.
I pulled the sheet tighter around myself.
What am I doing? I shouldn’t be here.
My bare feet slapped against the floor as I rushed to the balcony, each step echoing in the vast space.
Night wind whipped around me, tearing at my hair and cooling the fever that burned beneath my skin.
I clutched the rough railing with both hands and leaned forward.
The world was spread beneath me like a tapestry of shadow and light.
The drop was endless. Dizzying.
Just as my heartbeat began to steady, something sharp and searing sliced like a blade between my eyes.
I yelped, jerking backward as white-hot pain lanced through my skull.
Zaheera.
“You are a fool!”
Her voice had been stripped bare of its usual pleasantries. No teasing, no false warmth, just cold dread.
“I warned you not to be taken in by him, and yet—” Her mental grip constricted until I couldn’t think clearly, “—here you are. In his chambers, drowning in the embers of his touch like some lovesick child.”
I flinched, tightening my hold around the railing until stone dust crumbled beneath my nails.
“Do not forget who he is. What he is. Or have you convinced yourself that a monster can be tamed?”
Anger sparked in my chest, but it was drowned beneath the ice of fear as she continued. Her voice didn’t just echo in my head; it burrowed itself into my bones.
“Do not forget the bargain, mortal.”
My stomach twisted violently, acid rising in my throat.
I had forgotten. Even if it was just for a moment.
“I didn’t forget,” I forced out between gritted teeth.
A bitter, burning lie.
“It will be done. I promise.”
Silence.
Then, a cruel hum that made my bones ache. “Good. I would hate to have to remind you… through her.”
A sharp pang lanced through my chest. My mother. How could I have been so selfish? How could I have let myself get lost in his touch when her life hung in the balance?
Zaheera’s presence melted away like oil, leaving behind nothing but the crushing weight of my choices and the phantom pain of her claws in my mind.
I needed to leave.
I whirled around, scanning the chamber frantically from corner to corner, searching for anything—a door, even a crack into reality itself—through which I could escape.
But there was nothing but solid walls, and the balcony only offered death.
A hollow laugh scraped up my throat.
“Of course,” I whispered. “Of course, he wouldn’t leave me a way out.”
There was nothing left to do but wait. Wait for him to return so I could look him in the eye and lie.
I drew in a shuddering breath, trying to steady the violent tremor in my hands as I made my way back to bed. The mattress sank as I perched on the edge, pressing my palms flat against my thighs, but nothing could quell the earthquake inside me.
Heat shimmered in the corner of my vision.
Azmik’s materialized right beside me, his body forming from flame and shadows like he was emerging through a curtain between worlds. His scales caught the torchlight in tiny prisms of gold and amber.
His eyes were full of real, honest concern. My throat closed up, and something inside me cracked open.
Azmik moved closer, his serpentine head lifting as he studied my face. He took in everything—the way my hands still shook, how I sat curled in on myself like I was trying to disappear. His flames dimmed—softer, warmer, like he was afraid of startling me.
Then he was moving with liquid grace, winding his body around me in slow, careful loops. When his face hovered just a breath away from mine, my reflection in his glowing eyes was broken. Lost. Terrified.
A tear slipped down my cheek, and Azmik’s forked tongue flicked out, so gentle it was hardly a whisper against my skin, catching the salt before it could fall. Then he pressed his small head against my temple and just… stayed.
The sob that escaped me was torn from somewhere deep in my chest where I’d been holding everything together. More tears followed, tears that I’d been fighting since Zaheera’s claws left my mind.
Azmik didn’t even flinch. He nuzzled closer, his flames warming my skin.
I lifted him, cradling his warm weight against my chest before letting him wind around my shoulders. He settled like he belonged there, his head burrowing into my hair and flames dancing against my neck.
I stroked him absently, the repetitive motion the only thing keeping me anchored as my mind raced in endless circles. The weight of what I was about to do sat heavy on my shoulders. Regret consumed me, its sharp teeth tearing at my resolve.
But I couldn’t let it show. Not a morsel of doubt could cross my face when he returned.
I had to pretend. I had to make him believe that this meant nothing—that he meant nothing.
Hours stretched into an eternity of torment. Exhaustion pressed heavy against my bones, but sleep was just out of reach, despite Azmik’s warm presence nestled in my hair. Every time my eyes slipped shut, I saw fire. I saw him.
I began to question whether I wanted him to return or if I hoped he never would.
Then, the air shifted. A thick haze of smoke and shadow filled the room.
Dalkhan emerged through the dark mist in perfect silence, his gaze unreadably intense. He didn’t need to speak. I knew he could feel it. The change. The rift forming between us.
“You stayed awake,” he murmured, his voice lower than usual, but no less dangerous.
Azmik stirred, his head emerging from behind my hair, greeting his master. I swallowed hard, forcing my fingers to stay curled to hide the tremor in my hands.
“I didn’t want to wake up here.”
A shadow crossed his face. Not anger. Not yet.
“And why is that?”
What could I say? What words could cut deep enough to make him turn away? To make him hate me enough that this, whatever this was, could never happen again?
My throat was tight as I looked up at him. The regret churned in my stomach, warring with necessity. But I needed to end this before I lost what little grip I had left.
“Because I shouldn’t have been here to begin with.”
Azmik made his way down my body, positioning himself half on the bed, half draped protectively across my lap.
Dalkhan’s expression darkened, but he remained silent. Waiting.
“It was a mistake, Dalkhan.”
His hands clenched, the muscles in his forearms tensing in restraint.
I could’ve stopped there. I should’ve. But I didn’t.
I steeled my spine and sharpened my words like a blade. “I let desire cloud my judgment, but it won’t happen again.”
Silence stretched between us, taut and fragile as a thread about to snap. The torches shifted, their shadows crawling up the walls.
He took one slow step forward. Azmik angled his body upward, glowing eyes fixed on his master.
I ground my teeth together, forcing ice into my voice. “I would never choose someone like you, Dalkhan.”
Dalkhan didn’t move closer. Didn’t speak. He just watched me.
“I needed something from you,” I said, the words bitter as ash. “And now that I’ve had it, there is nothing left between us… There never was.”
The fire in his eyes dimmed, as if something inside him had pulled away—retreated to some unreachable place.
He took another step, and the temperature spiked. “Say that again.”
The walls seemed to close in. Azmik lifted higher, his body forming a living shield between us. My heart slammed against my ribs, but I couldn’t back down.
“There is nothing between us.”
Shadows curled around his fingers, more fire flaring before being swallowed by the darkness.
“Again.” The command crackled.
The words stuck in my throat. Each one harder than the last. “You mean nothing to me.”
The moment the lie left my mouth, the air changed. Azmik’s head snapped toward me, the slits of his pupils expanding wide as if I’d physically struck him.
Dalkhan’s silence was worse than his rage would have been.
His hands flexed at his sides, like he was fighting the urge to reach for me—or destroy me. His expression remained beautiful, terrible, and completely unreadable.
“Get out.” The words were barely audible.
I didn’t move.
His head tilted, eyes narrowing into burning slits. “Did I stutter?”
“No, I—”
“LEAVE!”
The word exploded from him, shaking the very foundations of the room. The walls trembled. Every torch flared so bright they nearly blinded me.
A door materialised across the room. The sight of it was like a knife to the heart.
I held the sheet tighter around me and forced myself to move.
Azmik tried to reach for me, reluctant to let me leave, but I pushed him away.
One step. Then another. Each tore something vital inside me. I passed Dalkhan without glancing back, though every instinct screamed to turn around.
The air around him burned, but he didn’t touch me. Didn’t stop me.
Part of me wished he would.
I faltered, but just for a heartbeat. It was for the best. I couldn’t let whatever existed between us cloud my purpose any longer. My mother’s life hung in the balance, and Zaheera would not tolerate failure.
The second I stepped through the door, the walls behind me erupted in a symphony of destruction—of stone cracking, of fire consuming everything in its path. Of a man’s control finally, completely shattering.
And so did I.
I staggered through the corridors, leaning heavily against the walls to steady myself. The torchlight played tricks on my vision, shadows stretching like grasping fingers, reaching for me as I stumbled past. Here a doorway, there an archway—all of them wrong. All of them mocking me.
Another corner. Another dead end.
I spun around, slamming a palm against the stone. The tears I’d been choking back burned like acid behind my swollen lids. I lurched forward, using the wall to propel myself down the next passage.
Focus. One foot in front of the other.
I needed to disappear, to hide where I could collapse without witnesses. Where no one could see the way I was crumbling from the inside out.
The sight of my door ahead sent a wave of relief through me. I threw myself toward it, clawing at the handle with shaking hands.
I tumbled inside, crashing against the frame before I spun and drove my heel into the wood, slamming the door shut with a crack that split the air.
Two steps. That’s all I managed before my legs buckled.
I pitched forward onto the bed, my knees cracking against the wooden frame as I tangled my fists in the sheets. Twisting them like I could somehow wring the pain from my own chest.
My face hit the pillow, and I pressed deeper, inhaling that familiar scent as I squeezed my eyes shut. Bursts of light flashed behind my lids.
Stupid. Stupid.
If I could tear time apart with my bare hands—rip each moment to shreds until I could reach back and undo it all, I would. My body curled inward like a wounded animal, knees drawing up to my chest as bitter bile clawed up my throat.
The self-loathing hit in waves—for what I had done. For the words I had carved into him. For the fury I knew was consuming him even now. It crawled under my skin like poison.
I’d had no choice.
I had done what needed doing. I had walked away. Wielded my tongue like a weapon, cutting deep enough to ensure he would never reach for me again.
My limbs were as heavy as lead, exhaustion pulling me down into the mattress—sinking deeper and deeper until I was drowning in my own despair.