Chapter 23 #2
Arion's hand came up, light burning against the thorns, forcing them back. He spun, and his expression was cold now, truly cold. "And you cast her out. Sent her into the Wild Hunt to die. So forgive me if I question your right to play the possessive lover."
Eliam's control cracked further, shadows spreading across the ground, swallowing the light from the floating lanterns. The garden plunged into darkness broken only by Arion's defensive magic.
"I made a mistake—"
"You always make mistakes with her!" Arion's restraints shot forward again, light wrapping around Eliam's wrists, yanking them apart, trying to stop him from forming more weapons. "You claim her, you hurt her, you throw her away, and then you rage when someone else tries to pick up the pieces!"
Eliam broke the restraints with brute force, thorns erupting from the ground in a circle around Arion, growing inward, trying to cage him. "Help? Is that what you call it? Kissing her?"
"She was going to him!" Arion's light burned brighter, shattering the thorns before they could close completely. "Another second and she would have crossed, and you would have lost her forever. So yes, I kissed her. I broke the compulsion. I saved her life."
"You had no right—"
"I had every right!" Arion's composure finally shattered.
Light exploded from him, not restraining now but pushing, forcing Eliam back several feet.
"Someone had to! You were asleep, comfortable and safe while she walked barefoot through the gardens toward her death.
So don't you dare tell me I had no right to save her. "
The warmth in Briar's chest was going wild, pulling toward both of them with equal desperate intensity. She could feel it trying to stop this, trying to make them understand something she couldn't grasp.
Footsteps on the garden path. Thaine appeared, taking in the destruction with wide eyes. "What in the seven hells—"
"Stay out of this," Eliam snarled, not taking his eyes off Arion.
More footsteps. Karse emerged from the shadows, assessing the situation with lazy interest. His gaze found Briar, shivering in her thin nightgown, and he crossed to her without a word.
"Come here," he said, his good arm wrapping around her from behind, pulling her against his chest. Heat radiated from him, blessing of the Drak, and she couldn't help but lean into it. "Let the fae have their tantrum."
"They're going to kill each other," she said, her teeth still chattering.
"Probably not." Karse's chin rested on top of her head, his arm tightening around her middle. "The pretty one's not even trying to hurt him. Just playing defense. Interesting, that."
He was right. Every attack Arion made was restraint-based, trying to bind or push back rather than harm. While Eliam was throwing lethal force with every strike.
"Eliam, stop!" Thaine tried again, moving closer. "This isn't—"
A thorn shot past his head, close enough that he felt the wind of its passage. Thaine froze.
"I said stay out of it."
Arion used the distraction to send bands of light around Eliam's chest, yanking him forward and off-balance. "You want to be angry at someone? Be angry at Malus. He's the one who tried to steal her tonight. He's the one controlling her through those marks. Not me."
"I know exactly who to be angry at." Eliam shattered the bands, shadows coiling around his arms like serpents. "And right now, it's the fae who thought he had the right to kiss my—"
He stopped, the word dying on his lips. Not quite willing to say it.
"Your what?" Arion pressed, light forming a barrier between them as Eliam advanced. "Your prisoner? Your property? What exactly is she to you, Eliam? Because from where I stand, you've never actually decided."
"She's mine." The shadows surged forward, crashing against Arion's barrier. "That's all you need to know."
"She's a person!" Arion's light pushed back, driving the shadows away. "With her own will, her own choices. You don't get to decide what's best for her and then rage when someone else offers her kindness."
"Kindness." Eliam's laugh was bitter. "Is that what we're calling it?"
"What would you call it?" Arion's barrier strengthened, turning solid, forcing Eliam to stop his advance. "I saved her. I brought her back. I kept her safe when you—" He stopped, seeming to realize he'd gone too far.
"When I what?" Eliam's voice dropped to something deadly quiet. "Say it. When I cast her out. When I sent her to die. When I failed her." Shadows began building behind him, massive and dark. "You think I don't know? You think I haven't thought about it every moment since?"
"Then why are you fighting me instead of him?" Arion's hands spread, light gathering. "I'm not your enemy. Malus is."
"You kissed her." The words came out flat, final. "That makes you my enemy."
The shadows launched forward with devastating force, and Arion's barrier shattered under the impact. He went down hard, light forming shields above him as thorns rained down, but one got through, slicing across his shoulder.
Blood, bright and red against his pale clothing.
Eliam froze, staring at it.
"Enough!" Thaine stepped between them, his hand on Eliam's chest. "Enough. You made your point. He made his. This solves nothing."
Briar felt the warmth in her chest split, pulled equally toward both of them, and the sensation was so painful she gasped. Karse's arm tightened around her.
"Steady," he murmured. "Breathe through it."
Eliam's eyes found hers across the destroyed garden, and she saw the moment reality crashed back in. His shadows receded, pulling back into him, and his expression shifted from rage to something rawer.
Arion stood slowly, one hand pressed to his bleeding shoulder. His light had dimmed, but his eyes stayed locked on Eliam.
"I would do it again," he said quietly. "If it meant keeping her safe." He paused, his eyes meeting Eliam's directly. "And you're right. About the river. About me wanting her. I offered her sanctuary after you cast her out. Hoped she'd stay, that she'd choose the Star Court. Choose me."
His jaw tightened slightly. "She didn't. Even without saying the words, I knew. She'd already decided to go back to you."
"But that doesn't mean I've stopped wanting her," Arion continued, his hand still pressed to his bleeding shoulder.
"So I'll take any opportunity I can to change her mind.
The next time you hurt her, the next time you make her question whether she belongs with you, I'll be right there offering her something better. Consider that fair warning."
Eliam's shadows surged again, but Thaine's hand on his chest held firm.
"Enough," the huntsman said quietly. "He's made his position clear. You've made yours. This is done for now."
Karse released Briar with a small sound of amusement. "Fae," he said, like it explained everything. Then to Briar, "Can you walk?"
She nodded.
Eliam was there immediately, his arm around her waist, supporting her weight. He didn't say anything, didn't look at Arion, just turned and began leadding her back toward the residence halls.
She looked back once, seeing Arion still standing in the destroyed garden, Thaine moving to check his shoulder. The Star Prince's eyes met hers, and something passed between them. Understanding, perhaps, definitely confusion. The same question she had no answer for.
Why had the warmth responded to his kiss that way?
Why did it still pull toward him even now?
What did it mean?
Eliam guided her back to their room in silence, his grip on her waist possessive and tight. When they reached the door, he swept her up without a word, carrying her inside despite her protest that she could walk.
He set her on the bed and immediately began layering blankets over her, his movements sharp and controlled in a way that meant he was barely holding his temper.
She watched him move around the room, stoking the fire higher, checking that the terrace doors were locked, his shoulders rigid with tension. When he finally climbed into bed beside her, he pulled her against him, his arms wrapping around her like he was afraid she might vanish.
The silence stretched between them, filled only by the crackle of the fire and their breathing.
"Was it true?" he asked finally, his voice rough. "What he said. Before Malachar took you, had you already decided to come back?"
She felt him holding himself completely still, waiting for her answer.
"Yes," she said quietly.
His arms tightened fractionally around her. "Why?"
Briar studied him a moment. She could give him a dozen reasons that were all true—the bargain, the marks, the way the warmth pulled her toward him. But none of those were the real answer.
"Because I love you," she said, the words coming out steadier than she felt.
He went completely still behind her. She felt him stop breathing for a moment, could sense the war happening inside him between what he wanted to say and what he was capable of saying.
His hand moved from her waist to turn her to face him, and when she met his eyes, they were black and intense and full of things he couldn't put into words.
"Say it again," he demanded, his voice dropping to something rough and possessive.
"I love you."
His mouth crashed against hers, and the kiss was desperate and claiming and full of everything he couldn't say. His hands moved to her face, holding her like something precious and breakable, while his tongue swept into her mouth with an intensity that stole her breath.
When he pulled back, his forehead pressed against hers, his breathing ragged. "You're mine," he said, and it wasn't a question or a command. It was a statement of fact, of truth, of something fundamental that existed between them. "Always mine."
"Yes," she agreed, and felt the warmth in her chest surge with recognition and relief.
His hands moved to the hem of her sleep shirt, drawing it up and over her head with careful deliberation. The firelight painted her skin in shades of gold and shadow, and she watched his eyes track over every bruise, every mark, cataloging each one.
"He touched you," Eliam said, his fingers tracing the autumn marks at her throat. "Called to you. Tried to take you from me."
"It didn't work."
"Because of Arion." The name came out like gravel, and she saw murder flash through his eyes before he forced it away. "Because another man put his hands on you, his mouth on you."
"To save me," she said, her hands finding his face. "That's all. Nothing more."
His jaw clenched under her palms. "I should have felt it. Should have known you were in danger. The warmth should have woken me the moment you left the bed."
"You're here now."
"Not good enough." His hands moved to her waist, fingers pressing into her skin with possessive need. "I want to replace every touch that isn't mine. Every kiss. Every moment you spent afraid or cold or thinking I wasn't coming for you."
He pulled her closer, his mouth finding her throat, teeth scraping against the autumn marks with deliberate pressure. She gasped, her hands tangling in his hair, and he bit down harder, marking over Malus's claim with his own.
"This is mine," he said against her skin, moving lower to her shoulder. Another bite, hard enough to bruise. "Every inch of you."
His hands were already working the fastenings of his clothes, stripping them away impatiently. When he settled back over her, skin against skin, she felt the full weight of his need, his fear, his desperate possessive claim.
"Tell me again," he demanded, his hand sliding between her thighs.
"I love you," she gasped as his fingers found her, already slick and ready.
He made a sound low in his throat, something between satisfaction and need, and his mouth claimed hers again. The warmth in her chest was singing now, reaching for him, recognizing its other half, and she felt it flowing between them in waves that made her arch against his hand.
"Eliam—"
"Not yet." His thumb found her clit, circling with maddening pressure while his fingers moved inside her. "I want you desperate for me. Want you begging."
She was already close, her body responding to his touch with an intensity that made her shake. But he knew her too well, knew exactly when to ease back, to keep her on the edge without letting her fall.
"Please," she managed, her nails digging into his shoulders.
"Please what?" His teeth found her earlobe, biting gently. "Tell me what you want."
"You. I want you."
He positioned himself at her entrance, but didn't enter, just pressed against her with agonizing slowness. "Say it again. Tell me who you belong to."
"You," she gasped, trying to shift her hips to take him in, but his hand on her waist held her still. "I belong to you."
He thrust into her in one smooth motion, and they both cried out at the sensation. He didn't give her time to adjust, didn't ease into it, just took her with desperate possessive need that spoke louder than any words.
His hand fisted in her hair, pulling her head back to expose her throat, and his mouth found the marks there again, biting and sucking hard enough to leave new bruises over the old ones. Claiming. Marking. Making absolutely certain that anyone who looked at her would know who she belonged to.
She wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, and he groaned against her throat, his rhythm becoming harder, more demanding. One hand moved between them, finding her center again, and the dual sensation made her vision white out.
"Come for me," he commanded, his voice rough. "Let me feel it."
The warmth in her chest exploded outward as she shattered, golden light flooding through her, through him, binding them together in waves of pleasure that seemed to go on forever.
She felt him follow her over the edge, felt him pulse inside her as he buried his face against her neck, his whole body shaking with the force of his release.
They stayed like that for a long moment, tangled together, breathing hard, the warmth settling between them like a living thing.
When he finally moved, it was only to roll them so she was draped across his chest, his arms wrapped around her with possessive care. His hand stroked through her hair, gentle now, all the desperate violence drained away.
"You're not allowed to almost die again," he said against her hair. "Or walk toward borders in your sleep. Or let other princes kiss you."
Despite everything, she felt her lips quirk. "I'll try to avoid all of that."
"See that you do." His arms tightened around her. "Because I'm not letting you go. Not to Malus, not to Arion, not to anyone. You're mine, and I keep what's mine."