32. Chapter Thirty-Two
Ifelt like I was going to faint beneath Kadir’s glare.
And by the time she’d locked us in our rooms, I started hyperventilating. I braced a hand over my chest, and Eero swiftly grabbed me by the shoulders, shaking me so I was looking at him. Apparently, his words had been deafened by the ringing in my ears, and as I blinked, I slowly made out what he was saying.
“...don’t let her get to you like that.”
I blinked again, letting out a shaky breath. “Easier said than done, Eero,” I muttered and slipped from his grasp to look at myself in the mirror. I anxiously untangled a few loose wavy strands. “She could have charred me like a piece of meat over fire if she wanted to.”
“She could have, but she wouldn’t.”
I looked at Eero through the mirror and gave him a thin-lipped smile. He sat on the edge of the bed and narrowed his stare at me. “Have you ever been to one of these meetings?” I asked.
“I have,” Eero said and waved me over. I sighed, taking one last look at my face in the mirror before twisting toward him and approaching. He offered both hands as I neared, which I accepted and let him pull me over his lap, straddling him. His arms wrapped around my waist, chin dipped back so as not to break eye contact. “They are tedious, boring things, really, but they are fair. The Elders will ensure it.”
“The Elders?” I repeated and rubbed my lips together. “You know, I spent a lot of time around Azalea and Yenira…but I never learned about the Elders.”
“Likely by design, Aurelie. They’re detached from everything. Court, war—you name it. They don’t marry, and they really only speak when spoken to. That said, they are always watching. Listening. They know about strife before it is even whispered about behind closed doors.”
“I find that hard to believe,” I muttered and dragged my fingers through his hair. He smirked and leaned up to press a kiss to my chin. “But…truly? They’re impartial?”
“They are. The monarchs and their Sisters may not be so kind to you given your blood, but the Elders will listen. If we get them on our side, they will help.”
I let my gaze dance across his face before settling on his lips. “Yet, they let Yenira make an attempt on your life. That doesn’t sound so impartial to me.”
His mouth curved into a small frown. “I was an enemy to the human kingdoms, despite my best efforts to prove otherwise. And, as I said, the Elders do not involve themselves in war. They only make judgments and advise. There’s nothing more they could do or would ever be interested in doing.”
“Yet they will make judgment on whether Julius and Azalea are worth saving…”
“If it is for the greater good, then yes, they will.”
I hummed and rested my forehead against his, letting my eyes flutter shut. “I don’t know if I’m born to withstand all of this.”
Eero shook his head, tapping his tongue against the roof of his mouth. He pressed a gentle kiss to my lips—not of lust and yearning, but one that bled warmth between our two bodies. I wanted to feel it over and over, until my sore muscles no longer ached and my anxieties hushed. “I never doubted you, witchling, but after watching you stand down Kadir Zayne…”
Heat swept across my cheeks. Sometimes, Eero kissed me in a way that turned every bone in my body to mush. It was a dangerous power to hold over me—but I didn’t want it any different. In fact, I wished to be tucked away in the countryside of the fae realm, whether in frigid snow or warm sun, and exist with him just as we were. Forever.
“I no longer fear how you’d handle the wrath of nobility. You, witchling, are wrath, a violent little delight I’d like to watch for the rest of my days.”
His breath was tickling the skin of my lips as he chased after me, but each time I tried to close the gap, he backed away. I huffed out and opened my eyes to catch his dual-colored gaze, heavy and hung over my mouth with the cockiest smirk I’d seen since first meeting him. I cupped his face in my hands and let my thumb drag against his bottom lip.
“You are such a charmer,” I said between raspy giggles.
Eero shook his head, the tip of his nose brushing against mine as he leaned up. He palmed my back, drifting his hands up and down slowly. I held my breath in anticipation of his kiss, eyelids growing heavy as I warred with the blurred proximity that prevented me from focusing on him. I wanted to stare at him for all my days—to study the duality of his focus, icy and warm, of snow and gold in an awe-defining moment.
“Did you mean it, downstairs? What you called me?”
My brows knitted together in confusion. “Which part?”
Eero’s nose brushed against my cheek as he nuzzled into the crook of my neck, his breath hot against my skin. His lips were soft as he peppered me in kisses, but when his tongue traced the column of my neck, I shuddered. Eventually, he found my ear and nipped at it.
“‘He is my king…’”
My stomach fluttered like butterflies, and I dipped my head forward so I could whisper against his temple. “Oh, I don’t know, Eero. Are you worthy of such a title?”
Of course he was, but the way he stiffened beneath me and pressed his fingertips into the soft skin of my back made me chuckle. He tutted, grazing his lips against the top of my jaw. “I am only worth such a title if I have my queen alongside me.”
I let out a gasp and looked at him. I could feel his smile against my skin long before I beheld it. My breaths were heavy as I held onto my restraint, but when he let his loose, his lips clashed against mine finally. I melted against his chest. My fingers found his hair once more and tangled into the silver strands. This was unwise—we were in dangerous territory. Our glamour hadn’t protected us, and Kadir wasn’t on our side more than she needed to be, but the heat of his gaze and the tickling touch that dragged down my spine was intoxicating.
I’d almost lost him. I’d almost lost…this. I would have crumbled apart again if I thought about it too hard.
I whimpered when his tongue swept across mine, his teeth nipping at my bottom lip teasingly. He’d been so careful not to break the skin—even with canines subtly sharper than mine. It was just enough to dig into the softest flesh…to remind me of his mark, his claim, my mate. I moaned against his skin and shuddered, just as it did when he had me pressed against the wall the night I almost gave my all to him. My body was at his command, from the racing drum of my heartbeat to the shaky fingers that latched onto whatever part of him I could hold.
But he did no more than that—and, again, my body warred with desire and terror. It was almost enough to make me tear up, the thought of not knowing whether I’d resolve my trauma, not knowing whether he’d ever be able to bite me again and do so knowing I was fine. More than fine, actually.
He hushed me. “Eager little thing,” he whispered against my mouth. “What would Sister Zayne think if she heard about a fae fucking on mortal grounds?”
I was a panting mess as I chased after his kiss, but he twisted us so I was on my back and he was over my trembling body. I glared up at him, hooking my fingers along his jaw and drawing him down so he could kiss my raw lips. His arms caged my head, my legs wrapping around his torso to drive him closer.
When I moaned, he shushed me again. I pouted, and he reached a hand to drag his finger against my lip. “If you can’t be quiet, I will be sleeping on the floor.”
I scoffed and squeezed my legs around his waist. I could feel his cock pressing against me—yet Eero was a disciplined man, more than I’d ever be. More than I’d ever want to be. Lust danced across his gaze.
“So what’ll it be, witchling? Am I your king?”
I smirked, shaking my head. I saw the frustration color his cheeks red, but my defiance was enough for his lips to capture mine in a hungry plea. I dragged my nails along his clothed back, intensely aware of the way a hand grasped my thigh so hard, it might bruise. He pushed my knees and ground his leg against my clothed core, creating the friction I so desperately yearned for. That, with the euphoria and anxiety racing through my veins from the hint of his bite, was enough to make my back arch. I almost whimpered, almost moaned, but he silenced me with his tongue and groaned into my mouth. This time, my nails found the skin beneath his shirt and scratched so hard, the skin broke, and he hissed at the sting.
“Sorry,” I rasped as I let my eyes spring open. Only, he wasn’t angry. I’d never seen him look at me like this—it was feral, dark, possessive. “I didn’t mean to make you bleed—”
“Witchling, you can make me bleed if it pleases you.” I watched him scoot lower, shifting his body so he was between my legs, and nudging the hem of my tunic up so he could suck on my stomach. “I will bleed for you until I am drained.”
I let my head settle against the soft bed as his fingers hooked into the waistband of my pants. “That is a dangerous vow to make.”
“It is one I will continue to make,” he whispered against my skin as the air kissed my thighs. His lips followed the waistline of my pants, dragging it down further and further until it dipped below my calves. Then, his tongue raced against the side of my knee, along my inner thigh, before kissing the spot he’d marked over and over. My skin was still scarred by his brother’s assault, and I often feared he’d grow tired of seeing them.
Gods knew I already was. It was a constant reminder—an eyesore, at best.
But he kissed the scars, cuts, and bites that would never be healed by our mate bond—he kissed each one along my left thigh before doing it to the right. I tried to close my eyes, but flashes of that night resurfaced. This time, it was as an outsider looking in, watching my body, beset and marked and abused, strung along silver chains that slowly sizzled against my skin.
I watched the vision of Sólkon take advantage of my unconscious body. He’d marked me with his teeth, then a silver blade, before biting into my flesh once more and laughing. Whenever I showed signs of coming to, he’d dip my head back, dump more of that powder down my throat, and I’d go limp again.
Each day I’d been asleep flashed across the front of my mind like a bad dream. Only, it felt too real to be a dream—too terrifying to be a figment of my imagination filling in the blanks. This had to be real.
No. This was real.
Just as I had been when my body was strung for Sólkon to mark like a canvas, I was frozen. At least then, I was asleep. At least then, I hadn’t a clue what he’d done to me. But now, I was paralyzed in fear, the air catching in my throat as I choked on a cry.
I started thrashing when hands grabbed hold of my face, snatching onto my wrists and yanking them off my skin. I gasped, eyes shooting open as reality smacked me in the face again. Eero was on his side, face pale and eyes wide in terror. My cheeks were wet, and my eyes stung with tears.
“I’m sorry—Aurelie, I’m so sorry.”
My panicked breathing slowed, and my lip trembled. “Eero—”
Again, the air trapped in my throat. I reached for him and broke down, trying to keep my eyes open so I didn’t face that fragmented memory. I wasn’t sure how it came to be, or if it was even real, but it felt real. It felt so, so real.
“No. No, I’m sorry,” I stammered into his chest and finally squeezed my eyes shut. The darkness was quiet this time, my mind numb. “I’m so sorry, Eero. By the gods—”
“Hey,” he said, his voice a gentle command. He dipped a finger beneath my chin and demanded my attention silently. Patiently. He continued only when he’d earned my stare. I must have looked so pathetic, with my bloody, trembling lip and teary eyes. “I don’t need you to be sorry. I just need you to be okay. Do you want to talk about it?”
I opened my mouth to try and explain myself, but a gasp shattered into the air instead. I shook my head before letting my head collapse back into his chest. “I can’t,” I finally admitted. “It’s just too much.”
Eero’s hands stroked my hair, pressing gentle kisses to the top of my head. He didn’t say another word, but neither did I. We stayed just like that, my dead stare set on the fluffy pillow, his lips pressed to the top of my scalp. I wasn’t sure if I’d fallen asleep with my eyes open, or if the numbness made me blind to what was happening around me, but he guided my back to the bed, lifting my pants back over my knees before picking me up and resting my head against the pillow.
When I finally saw past the blur, forcing myself from the sense of shock that had consumed me, I saw his own eyes laced with silvery tears. It made my mouth even drier than it already was.
“Aurelie Cane, you are safe with me. You know that, right?”
I, again, failed to find my voice, so I nodded.
And he pressed his lips to my forehead.
“Then you know I will do whatever it takes to bring you solace. If you are not his demise, then I promise you—I will be.”
I reached for his sleeve and pulled him down next to me. He accepted my body as it cocooned around him. He accepted me, humming the softest tune that lulled me halfway asleep.