Chapter Sixteen
Castor Aegaeon
Prayers are a final refuge for those clinging to the fragile threads of hope abiding within the depths of their darkened souls.
And I wasn’t there yet.
The last time I prayed to the Gods was when my mother and father left this world, and then, my brother was deceived and taken prisoner, leaving me as the sole heir of Silver Meadows for the next century until he was released and allowed to return to us.
I was young and frightened, so naive.
Falling to my knees, I prayed to the Gods for help, and then they answered. Oh Gods, yes, they answered, granting me my “gift” to foresee death when it was near.
Even at the young age of eleven, I learned a valuable lesson that day. Physical strength could only take you so far. Your mind was the sharpest and most deadly tool you could carry. And I never allowed mine to dull.
Even now, I refused to pray to the Gods for their aid. I wasn’t entirely devoid of hope, not yet.
I did, however, wish I could forget.
I wished I could forget about my brother in the prison of Aelius, again.
Forget about his mate, a fearless half-shifter, whom I had also come to care for, fighting alone across the Narrow Sea.
Forget that Seamus now called himself High King.
Forget the smell of sweat, the ache of marching feet, and the constant, unnerving fear lurking in the shadows to the west. Forget the flashes of death that forever followed me. And most of all, forget—
“Prince Castor?” The flap of my canvas tent folded back, revealing a gorgeous female standing in the opening. “Is something wrong?” Her sweet voice purred as her hips seductively swayed from side to side as she entered, the opening of her robe revealing nothing but her naked flesh beneath.
I would be lying if I said I wasn’t intrigued. She was exactly the type of distraction I needed. To become lost in the blissful ecstasy of finding my release with a female wrapped around me was an all-too-tempting escape.
I sat upright, my eyes shamelessly tracing over her seductive curves. Yet, despite the growing hunger to claim this female, my thoughts began to wander.
My cock hardened at the thought of her beneath me. Not the female standing naked in the opening… but her.
“Look, I don’t intend to—” My words were cut short.
Clenching my fists, I felt the magic of my gift threatening to pull me under. My entire body tensed as every muscle of my frame tightened like a vice.
“Prince Castor?” the female at the opening questioned. “Are… Are you all right?”
I sealed my eyes, trying to decipher if this was a premonition of immediate death or simply another casualty of the decaying wilt that surrounded us on all sides.
Fuck. I hated being this close to the wilt.
Marching along the borders of the wilt twisted my magic, but there was no other choice.
With Minaeve and Aelius to the east, this was the only route we could take and remain undetected.
The false queen’s reach was non-existent here, unable to fully penetrate the magic of the wilt, just like the rest of us.
I pushed myself upright on the cot, leaning over my thighs, grinding my teeth so tightly I was convinced they would shatter inside my mouth.
Breathe, I told myself. Find the meaning… Look ahead, always look ahead.
But before I could dive in, the vision disappeared, along with my arousal.
Fantastic.
“I’m no longer in the mood for company,” I said in a half-truth.
“I see. Well, at least let me help you relax.” The female’s voice was heavy with need. “I’m certain I’ll be able to change your mind about having company tonight.”
Even in this darkened tent, I could see the hunger burning in her stare.
It would be so easy to fall into old habits and fuck the memories away. Closing my eyes, I tilted my head back and chuckled to myself. It used to be so simple. I could bury my cock inside a female and forget everything that pained me.
Gods knew, I needed it.
If I had half a mind remaining, I would succumb to my carnal needs and be done with this torment, finding my delicious release buried to the hilt, feeling her inner walls clenching around me as she moaned my name.
“Gods-fucking-dammit,” I cursed, fisting my hair.
Her again. Always her.
It had been months since I’d had my fill. This female standing before me was not only willing but a beautiful opportunity I couldn’t fucking bring myself to take.
“Prince?”
I turned to glance at the female, her russet eyes heavy with desire as she bit her bottom lip. Those perfect breasts made an appearance as she lowered the top of her robe, eager to have my undivided attention.
“It’s—” I groaned in frustration. “Not tonight,” I admitted in utter defeat. “I’ll see myself out.”
Abruptly, I stood, silencing her as I reached for my pants, pulling them up and fastening the belt along my hips. I didn’t intend to be cruel, but sometimes, it was the kindest thing to do, especially in these instances.
She blinked rapidly, stumbling as she reached for the ends of her robe to cover herself. “What… What is it? Did I do—”
“You should get some rest. Take my tent for the night. I won’t be using it,” I said, my tone hardening. “We’ll be marching again come dawn.”
She shyly clutched at her robe, her brows narrowing in annoyance, and I couldn’t blame her.
“Very well,” she answered.
I turned to push the flap of the tent open when I heard her clear her throat.
“If there is something I did to upset my prince, I’m truly sorry.”
Her tone made me pause. I wasn’t a complete heartless monster. “My visions,” I whispered without looking back.
It was a valid excuse, and partially true. Every good lie held fragments of the truth woven into the tapestry to make it all the more believable.
“I understand,” she said as the sounds of the cot squeaked against her weight, signaling her acceptance of my offer.
Without looking back, I reached for my twin blades and threw my shirt over my shoulder as I stepped into the night.