CHAPTER 12 #2
I spit a mouthful of wine in shock. Good thing the tablecloth is a deep burgundy, hiding the stains already forming. A trickle of wine slides down my chin, and before I can wipe it off, a tendril of his shadows caresses the spot, cleaning it up. The touch is so tender, so affectionate.
“No way, the Great War started because you fucked King Silvestrus’s wife!”
His wicked smile widens. “Ah, but it did. A scorned man with such a big ego is a dangerous man, little umbra. It didn’t help matters at all that Ayana fell madly in love, against her better judgment. I never promised her my heart, but I guess one cannot control these things.”
“But the queen was a war casualty. She was abducted and killed brutally.” I frown, trying to untangle what he is saying from what I know.
His gaze hardens. “The queen was never kidnapped. She ran away from her kingdom on her own. She was deluded with promises of eternal love that I never made. When I did not reciprocate her feelings, and wanted to send her back in order to end the war, she took her own life. It’s one of the few regrets I have in this existence,” he says in a solemn voice.
“A five-hundred-year ferocious war ensued, just because you presumably couldn’t keep your dick in your pants.
That’s madness!” I slump against my seat, doubting everything I thought I knew about our history.
I don’t know how to feel about what he’s saying, or even if I believe it.
It goes against everything I was taught, yet something deep in my gut tells me he is not fabricating this story.
“I was young and reckless.” He sighs. “When Silvestrus died and his son took his place, brokering the peace treaty, I was relieved. Orgon wanted the bloodshed to stop just as much as I did. Five hundred years is a very long time to hold a grudge. So many casualties on both sides, all dying in the name of a lie. But Orgon wanted to perpetuate the lie. He was against the war, yet he didn’t want to tarnish his father’s legacy by exposing the truth.
After all, the Faes would turn against their royals if they ever discovered that the entire massacre could have been avoided.
Hence, the deception remains over eight hundred years later. ”
“That’s quite a secret to keep for almost a millennium.
” I mule over his tale, and the implications that extend to the last thousand years of Imiryion’s annals.
I still can’t wrap my head around the possibility of such a deception, but then something dawns on me, and I sit straighter in my chair as I murmur, “You’re more than a thousand years old.
” He nods once, and I shudder. “The only thing older in existence than you is the prophecy.” Another solemn nod.
“And you plan to fuck my twenty-three years old sister. That’s gross!
Twenty-three is practically a baby compared to your age! ” A nervous laugh escapes my lips.
His mood darkens dramatically, frantic shadows swirling against his frame. Oops, did I say the wrong thing?
“First of all…” he stands abruptly. “The prophecy specifies nothing about fucking. It just states a union, little umbra. I intend to ally with your sister for my purposes. Or offer her a marriage proposal, if she is so inclined—a marriage of convenience, not out of love.” His tone is sharp and unforgiving, and he crosses the space between us in two strides.
“Second…” His powerful frame engulfs me as he leans over my chair. “The one I am interested in fucking is you, not your sister.” My breath catches in my throat as his muscled arms rest on either side of my head, caging me. He did not just say what I think he did, right?
“Third, when I look at you, umbra, I see no baby at all. I see a devastatingly beautiful Fae female, with looks that can bring any male to his goddamn knees, and a fierce mind that thrills me to no end. Wars have been waged for lesser women, as the buried history shows. You’re young, granted, and more than a little menace, but there’s nothing demure or ingenue about you. ”
Shit. Why does his heated declaration make my toes curl? I am anything but aghast. In fact, if he were anyone else, I would throw myself in his arms right away.
“Last but not least, when I will eventually fuck you…”
“If… you mean if,” I say. My voice is weak as I try to swallow my nerves.
His gaze narrows on my throat, and he leans in impossibly closer, our mouths so near, they’re almost touching. “When.” It’s a no-nonsense statement that makes my thighs clench together.
“The last thing on your mind will be our age difference. You will be too engrossed in how my cock fills you up entirely, pleasure devouring you from the inside out. My millennium might seem gross to you now, but when you’ll be screaming my name to the unholy Gods and beyond, you’ll be thanking them for what my one thousand years of experience can do to you. ”
I gulp. Yes, I fucking gulp, like a virginal teenager. What the fuck is wrong with me?
He angles his head a fraction, resting his face in the crook of my neck and taking a deep inhale.
“Exquisite,” he whispers on the next exhale, scraping his fangs torturously slow on the warm skin there.
I whimper, my traitorous body betraying me.
I want to run away, my anxiety filling me up to the brim, like a bubble that’s about to pop.
I want to stay and feel those fangs pierce the skin and go deep inside my neck.
I want to scream, yet I want to moan just as much.
This can’t be happening. I cannot be having these conflicting thoughts, not about this creature in front of me I was raised to believe is the evil incarnate.
He moves back just an inch, his never-ending onyx pools fixing me unnervingly.
“Run, little umbra. Run away to the safety of your room before I decide to do something you’re not ready for yet!” He sounds just like the predator that he is, and the low growl that accompanies his words jumpstart my brain back into common sense.
I leap from my seat and bolt for the door without a single glance back. I sprint to my room as if hellhounds are on my heels, and once I’m in the familiar space of my bedroom, with the door shut behind me, I try to focus on my breathing exercises.
One. Breathe in, breathe out.
How the hell did I get into this mess?
Two. Breathe in, breathe out.
So maybe he is not the brutal villain he is pictured to be. But I am not delusional enough to believe he might be good either.
Three. Breathe in, breathe out.
But, worst of all, his fate seems to be intertwined somehow with my sister’s. And that fact alone makes the hair on the back of my arms stand on end. He might not be a murderous monster, but she is.
Four. Breathe in, breathe out.
It does not matter that I find him to be the most unnerving, striking and handsome male in all the kingdoms. Or that I feel the slickness gathered between my thighs that he caused with just a few words.
It doesn’t even matter if I will find all other males lacking by comparison from here on out.
He is the most enticing mistake I must ensure I will never make.
Five. Breathe in, breathe out.
I feel my pulse returning to normal and my resolve hardening. It’s settled then. If I wish to preserve my life, and not attract even more of my sister’s anger than by just being born with the same face as her, I will have to steer clear of Killian at all costs.
Easier said than done.