Chapter 55
The beating on the door was a war drum counting down the seconds until the trial by light. One fucking day left, and of course, Iaoth wouldn’t let me sleep. I cursed, shooting out of bed and hurriedly throwing on clothes. With a groan, Sylaira grabbed a pillow and smothered herself with it.
Every morning since Heraphia’s death, my annoying sister had been at our door before we awoke, encouraging my mate to go to the Divine Atrium and wield her power.
“What?” My voice crackled through the otherwise still air as I yanked on the handle and revealed the Korona.
“How is Sylaira this morning?” my sister trilled with fake concern.
“Still fucking asleep,” I growled, lips curling back from my teeth like a predator guarding its kill.
Iaoth breezed in anyway, making me grateful I’d closed off the sleeping chamber to her entry. “It’s been four days.”
“So?” I asked, raising a brow.
She perched on the edge of a chair without a care for the fact I was half-dressed. At least my morning erection was gone. Nothing killed lust faster than the sight of my sister’s face.
The Korona’s lips pressed into a firm line, her assessing gaze sweeping over me and landing on the words our father had carved into my flesh. I resisted the urge to place my palm over the scar and hide it from her view.
“We received word last night that they’ve had to retreat.
Again,” she hissed, no louder than a whisper.
For that, at least, I was grateful. Sylaira still didn’t know the extent of what was happening with the war.
Still didn’t know we were leaving to go to the front—not as freedom, but as punishment.
At least keeping the information from her had been easier with her buried in her grief. Though her pain was mine, and I wanted nothing more than to carry out my plans if it would only carve a smile on her face again.
I dragged a hand through my hair and blew out a breath. “What do you want me to do? I can’t force her.”
Iaoth opened her mouth, but I cut her off before she could speak. “I am not Commanding her.”
She huffed and crossed her arms. “Stadiel is furious with me about losing Heraphia. At least her visions were useful.”
“And whose fucking fault is that?” I snapped. “Not Sylaira’s. Not mine.”
“If I’d only been able to peer into her mind,” she bemoaned for the tenth time. Iaoth’s magic was useful in that way—the Seer’s visions often formed memories, allowing my sister to glimpse what they had.
“Well, you weren’t,” I ground out, tired of this same circle every morning.
A threat poised on the tip of my tongue, preparing to leap off and tell her the next time she arrived this early would be her last. If only my Command lasted a lifetime and would tie her tongue to prevent her from speaking of what I’d ordered.
That caveat was the reason the two of us had always worked as a pair.
Iaoth’s eyes lit up, an idea dancing behind them that made my shoulders tense. “Which is why I need Sylaira today. I’m sure if she has the right mix of drugs and stones, we can focus her mind on Heraph–”
“Enough,” I snarled, taking a menacing step forward. “You are not using her against her will. I am not losing my mate.”
My hand itched to reach out and wrap around her throat, to remind her who of the two of us was strong enough to withstand death.
She regarded me with something that looked like fear, shrinking back the barest amount. “I’ve learned my lesson about sharing power, brother. I’m merely suggesting she comes of her own accord.”
“She will go when she is ready,” I replied, trying to keep my tone even. Regardless, we were leaving in a few days. Even in a gilded cage, we’d be freer among the army than we were in this fucking palace.
A slow smile spread across Iaoth’s lips—one I recognized all too well.
“What?” I gritted my teeth, bracing for the inevitable manipulation.
“I could give her some incentive,” she suggested.
Ice sluiced through my veins. Goddess only knew what my sister would consider incentivizing for my mate. It was as likely to be something shining and holy as it was to be something sinister and evil.
“Like?” I asked, steel edging my tone.
Iaoth tapped a nail against her temple. “Oh, the same as I offer you. After all, she wouldn’t be so rebellious without memories of Heraphia, would she?”
Rage—white-hot and unstoppable—roared inside me, along with black voids in my memory. All the pieces I’d lost and would never regain.
“You do not go near her.” This time, I gripped Iaoth by the shoulders and lifted her off the chair. Her legs dangled helplessly beneath her.
“Put me down!” she insisted, clawing at my bare skin.
“Quiet,” I barked. “If you wake her, I will have no qualms about slitting your throat, Iaoth.”
And for the first time, I realized I truly meant it. Regicide had never been so much as a flicker of an idea before Sylaira came into my life. Now it stalked my every thought.
And I welcomed the treason.
She laughed, though it was a quiet, grating sound that scraped under my skin. “Oh, so she has no idea, does she?”
My grip loosened, and she collapsed backward, barely managing to catch herself. But she righted, straightening her dress with a wicked glint in her eyes.
I spun on my heel, planning to use my magic to shove her out the door if necessary.
“I’ll go, don’t you worry, brother,” she teased, halting me in my tracks. When she caught up to me, she reached up and patted my cheek. I flinched away from her.
My sister merely shook her head and continued onto the door. But a moment before she opened it, she faced me again. “Vaeron?”
I blew out a frustrated breath, my teeth grinding. “Yes?”
“Remember our agreement.” Her triumphant grin made me consider extreme, lethal violence. “And tell Sylaira I’ll see her in a few hours.”
Our agreement. My cage. The price I paid for my failures.
I needed no reminder.
With one last scorching look, she finally fucking departed. I shook with the need to break something—anything. Control frayed with each brutal beat of my heart. Adrenaline flooded my veins, and I reached for the chair Iaoth had perched upon and flung it into the wall.
Wood shattered, and it did nothing to slake the fury etching into my bones.
Sylaira emerged from the sleeping chamber, brows furrowed, wearing nothing more than one of my tunics.
My cock hardened instantly. I needed her—needed to lose myself in her until the rest of the world was a blur. Needed to remind myself that Sylaira was alive and here and no one was going to take her from me.
In two strides, I was on her, teeth sinking into her lower lip. She whimpered, leaping into my arms and wrapping her legs around my waist. Our skin burned where it touched.
I drove us backward until her back hit the bed, my body caging hers.
My fingers hooked in the hem of my tunic, and I pried it off my mate. Her nipples peaked in the cool morning air. I captured one in my mouth, savoring the silky feel of her skin against my lips.
“Oh, Goddess,” she moaned, hands threading in my hair.
I ceased moving, a wild, primal beast roaring inside me. “You use my name and mine alone.” Her eyes fluttered open, and I captured her jaw. “Tell me you understand.”
She nodded, ice turning to molten black pools.
I didn’t want to think about our deity right now. Or my sister. Or the trial.
All I wanted was to hear my mate screaming my name as I drove into her.
“Say it. I need to hear you choose me.” My voice took on a desperate edge.
Sylaira tilted her head ever so slightly, like she was studying my soul. “I choose you, Vaeron.” She paused, gaze raking over me with a dark, greedy hunger. “Take the control you need.”
Fuck.
I dragged in a breath, trying to calm my racing heart. Of course, she saw the monster inside me gnashing its teeth. She always did.
Only now…she accepted it.
“Don’t move,” I ordered, rearing back. She didn’t, lying there propped up on her elbows while I removed my pants. My cock was heavy, aching, and ready to bury itself in her wet heat.
But I didn’t want to move that quickly.
Sylaira was a female to be savored. Worshipped. Revered.
I knelt at the edge of the bed, dragging her and the sheets closer so I could wrap my mouth around her center. The first swipe of my tongue against her slit had her gasping. And I fucking loved that sound.
Fingers digging into her hips, I dove into her divine source, drinking the nectar like it would save me from myself. She reached for me, and I allowed her to touch, aching to be closer.
“Vaeron,” she whimpered as I licked that sensitive bundle of nerves.
“I want you to count the seconds until I make you come,” I growled into her mind. Determination fueled my every stroke as I sought out the perfect position that would have her breaking.
This I could control. This I knew how to do. This I wouldn’t fail.
“One,” she moaned. “Two, three…”
Radiance unfurled from me, climbing her skin like velvet vines. A band wrapped around her throat, forcing the next ten out through wispy breaths. But she didn’t falter.
Until I curled a finger inside her and pressed.
Air fled her lungs as her spine rolled forward. Her clit swiped across my tongue of its own accord.
I stilled, waiting for her to resume. On a jagged inhale, she did. “Twenty.”
Her walls clenched around me as I stroked that spot again. And again. And again. All the while, my lips sucked, swept, and circled her slit.
“Fifty!” she gasped, pleasure surging from her core and exploding down our bond. I welcomed the ecstasy, primal delight purring inside me at just how easily I could shatter my mate.
When she came down from her orgasm, I rose, swiping her arousal off with the back of my hand.