Chapter 26
Chapter
Twenty-Six
LYRA
Iawoke to the shadow of branches swaying against the blackened ceiling of Kaden’s bedchamber. Soft golden light beamed through the window and the partially obliterated ceiling, but Kaden had magicked away the worst of the damage and the lingering stench of smoke.
I considered telling him I liked the room better this way, with part of the ceiling gone, the surrounding trees canopied the chamber, sheltering us with their lush green branches.
I should have been sated after our savage lovemaking on the forest floor, but I found I was just as ravenous for my mate as I had been all those nights we spent apart.
A pleasant soreness between my legs conjured memories of our joining, and the cool silk of the bedsheets felt exquisite against my naked skin.
Rolling over, I found Kaden sprawled flat on his back, the sheets tangled around his waist to expose his naked torso.
I smiled at the sight of him, his face boyish and relaxed in sleep. His dark lashes brushed the tops of his cheekbones, and a few strands of midnight hair softened his chiseled jawline. Even the swirling tattoos that covered his chest were calm as he slept.
Unable to resist touching him, I traced the proud ridge of his nose, his scruffy jaw, and his swollen bottom lip. The small hurt I’d made with my teeth the night before had already healed, and I longed to kiss him again.
Kaden twitched in his sleep, batting my hand away, and my smile grew.
Inching closer, I leaned over and pressed a soft kiss to his left pectoral, making a trail down his chest until I reached the ridges of his abs.
Kaden stiffened, and when I glanced up, I saw him watching me through hooded eyes. The sheet was tented over his hardening length, and fresh heat bloomed between my thighs.
“See what you do to me, little huntress?” he rumbled, his voice rough from sleep. “You torture me even in my dreams.”
I grinned, tugging down the blankets as I crawled over him and drew him into my mouth.
Kaden let out a carnal moan, tilting his head back to expose the long column of his throat. The sight was incredibly arousing — this powerful male completely at my mercy as I took him deeper.
“Fuck,” he gritted out, his expression growing tight as I swirled my tongue around him.
His abdominals clenched as he writhed beneath me, and I burned with an almost painful need as I watched a muscle feather in his jaw.
“Lyra, I’m —”
He broke off at the next sensuous sweep of my tongue, reaching behind him to grip the headboard as I sucked him harder.
The bed creaked and groaned as his whole body tensed, and he spilled onto my tongue with a shout.
Pure, female satisfaction filled me as he emptied himself in my mouth, opening his eyes to watch as I drank him down.
Kaden stilled, and the headboard squeaked again as it settled back into place. I pulled off him slowly, licking my lips, and a feral gleam came into his eyes.
That was my only warning before he lunged forward, gripping me firmly under the arms and hauling me over top of him.
I landed with my thighs splayed on either side of his head, and my whole body flushed with heat as he used his hands to spread me wider.
A shaky moan slipped out of me as Kaden parted me with his tongue, swirling lazily at my entrance before grazing his teeth down my center.
I cried out, rocking forward onto the pillows to give him better access. Kaden’s grip on my thighs tightened, pushing them apart as he feasted. His low groan vibrated against my sensitive flesh, sending unbearable jolts of pleasure zinging down my spine.
“Fuck . . . Kaden,” I whispered, using the headboard for leverage as I rocked against his face. His stubble intensified every sensation, and that tongue . . .
I’d been right to think it wicked.
Sweat beaded on my chest as my breasts grew heavy with need. As if he could sense how badly they ached for his touch, he reached up to tease my nipple.
I whimpered at the sensation, grinding against him as I broke apart and riding each aching surge.
Kaden groaned, lapping at me hungrily, and a strangled sob wrenched from my throat as I went limp against him.
Breathing hard, I swung my leg over his chest, but Kaden caught it and hauled me against him before I could climb out of bed. He pulled me in for a kiss that tasted like me, threading his fingers through my hair and caressing my cheek with his thumb.
My chest was so full it felt as though it might burst, and I wished we could stay like this forever. Just the two of us. Peaceful. Content.
Kaden’s kisses grew more languid, and he pulled back to look at me. His stormy eyes swirled with heat and longing and something heavy I couldn’t place.
Our conversation from the night before came floating back, but I quickly shoved it away. I tucked it away along with everything else I didn’t want to think about, including my maybe-dead father and how I was going to kill Semphrys once we restored the Death Bringer’s hands.
As if he could sense my swirling thoughts, Kaden reached up to brush my cheek, his expression growing soft.
The gesture was so tender that I felt a lump rise in my throat, and the backs of my eyes stung.
Mercifully, Kaden pretended not to notice my loud sniff. He just drew his arm tighter around me and tucked my head under his chin.
We both knew it couldn’t last, this fragile moment of happiness. I might have closed the bond between him and his father, but Semphrys was still coming for us.
We just had to get to him first.
The mood was tense by the time Kaden and I joined the others for breakfast. The spacious sun-soaked dining room was another area he and Sorsha had tended to, though a portion of the wallpaper was still bubbled and discolored, and the high-backed chairs carved to resemble meandering tree branches were singed from the flames.
It was barely dawn, and yet Sorsha and Adriel were already dressed in their fighting leathers and looked as if they were preparing to leave.
Sorsha hadn’t touched her food, and she was staring at her fork as though considering its merits as a weapon. Adriel sat unnaturally still, though he looked as though he wanted to crawl out of his skin.
“Good morning,” said Kaden cheerfully, his voice sounding out of place in the somber dining room.
Adriel muttered something indiscernible, and the princess met her brother’s gaze with a glacial stare.
“It would be, were it not for the insufferable ass you insist on carting around with you.”
“My ass isn’t insufferable,” said Kaden in a tone of mock indignation. He made a show of twisting around to look, and I couldn’t resist tilting my head to admire the way his leathers hugged the perfect swell of his muscles.
“I was talking about the living statue,” said Sorsha icily. “But you knew that already.”
The slight feathering of Adriel’s jaw was the only sign that her words grated on him. I sank down into the seat beside the princess and took a long drink from the goblet of juice Fione had poured for each of us. It was citrusy and slightly tangy –– unlike anything I’d tasted before.
“Cart me around, does he?” the royal guard grumbled. “Last time I checked, my wings worked perfectly. It’s you who sometimes needs carting.”
Sorsha’s nostrils flared with indignation. In one smooth motion, she was on her feet, a knife grasped in her hand. I realized belatedly that it had been the sharper utensil she’d been eyeing, and I edged my chair closer in case I needed to stop her from stabbing Adriel through the heart.
“I can summon my wings, no thanks to you. My magic never would have been depleted in the first place if the males around here weren’t such spineless cowards that it took three centuries to —”
“Younglings,” Kaden broke in. “Can’t we all just get along?”
“No,” snapped Sorsha at the same moment Adriel said, “I’m sure we’d all share your good spirits if we’d spent the evening balls deep in a beautiful female.”
I choked on the juice I’d been sipping, spewing some of the acidic liquid from my nose.
“If you weren’t so busy sniping at each other,” Kaden continued, handing me a napkin, “you might be interested to know that Adriel is the only one who has the ability to restore the Death Bringer’s hands.”
A ripple of surprise passed over the table.
“Did Gninou tell you that?” Sorsha asked.
Kaden nodded just as Fione came bustling in with an enormous wooden tray. It was heaped with platters of tiny boiled eggs, smoked sausages, baked plums, and a delectable-smelling bread. “All it will take is clay from the banks of the Adraeis River.”
Adriel shook his head. “Traveling to Adraeis is too much of a risk. Your father’s demons —”
“I’m afraid it cannot be avoided.”
The little wood nymph set the tray down on a stand beside the table, clearing her throat primly. “Beg pardon, my lord, but I couldn’t help overhearing . . .”
Fione’s cheeks flushed as we all turned to look at her. “If it’s Adraeis clay you need, I know Her Majesty kept some here.” Her gaze flicked to the royal guard. “She used it to heal Master Adriel whenever he got into scrapes as a youngling.”
I felt a swell of hope at Fione’s revelation, though I quickly tamped it down. It sounded almost too good to be true. Was it possible something was actually going right in our quest to rejoin Morta with her hands?
“She kept it in the ironwood cabinet in her chambers, my lord. I don’t believe it was damaged in . . . the attack.” The little female faltered on the last two words, her face growing ashen at the memory.
A cold vise clenched around my heart as I imagined Fione fleeing into the woods while Semphrys’s demons sacked the manor.
Kaden must have been picturing something similar, because his expression hardened. “Show me,” he said, his chair scraping against the hardwood as he rose from the table.
Fione gave a curt nod, backing out into the corridor and leading him up the wooden staircase.
I followed behind them, lured by my own curiosity and a desire to explore more of the manor. The steps creaked loudly underfoot, and I hoped the blackened wood would not crumble beneath my weight.
We reached the second floor, where a set of carved wooden doors opened on a wave of magic that tasted like morning dew. Light spilled onto the singed oak floorboards, and I blinked as little motes of dust fluttered all around.
The queen’s chambers were airy and refined, though the walls had been charred by hellfire, and the periwinkle bed linens lay in burned tatters. The crumbling remains of a beautiful four-poster stood against one wall, and a cracked and spotted mirror reflected Kaden’s ashen face.
He looked haunted as he took in the bedchamber. The wood-paneled walls were decorated with the same style of carvings that had adorned the House of Guile, though in here, they seemed whimsical rather than sinister.
An oil painting of two younglings hung over the hearth: the first had raven-black hair and a mischievous glint in his eye; the second was a serious-looking redhead with skinny arms and legs.
Adriel.
My chest squeezed. According to Kaden, Queen Elowynn had created Adriel as a companion for her son. But one look at this painting, and it was clear that the child of the clay had meant much more to her than that.
Despite the black marks that marred the frame and a bubbled corner of the canvas, the two younglings were lovingly depicted with gentle brush strokes in a warm, golden light.
The corners of my eyes stung as Fione led Kaden to a sturdy-looking cabinet that stood tucked against the wall. It was crafted from a wood so dark it was nearly black and decorated with those same woodland carvings.
It was immediately obvious that the flames hadn’t touched it. While the floor was singed and covered in ash, the cabinet was pristine. A portrait of a younger Sorsha sat on top, the artist having managed to capture the wild glint in her eyes despite her demure pose.
The door squeaked as Kaden opened it and peered inside at the contents. Dusty bottles crowded the shelves, all with yellowed labels marked in a fine, spidery handwriting that reminded me of his own.
The bottles clinked as he rummaged in the cabinet, pulling out a few leather-bound notebooks and a bundle of feathers. These he set carefully aside before withdrawing a small pot sculpted from clay that was a riot of greens and golds.
Removing the lid, Kaden inhaled, and I caught a whiff of a pungent earthy smell that conjured up memories of sunbaked earth and a laurel-scented breeze.
“It’s still good,” he said, gaze flicking to mine. Though he sounded relieved, his eyes were hardened with resolve and something that resembled grief or longing.
He turned away before I had a chance to analyze it, tucking the pot under his arm and carefully replacing the items he’d removed from the cabinet. He closed the doors with a gentle reverence, and my heart beat faster.
We were ready to face the Three again and sever the threads of the stolen souls Semphrys had taken for his own.