Chapter 43 #2
With that, she unlocked the door.
Within a moment, ten men stood at the far side of the room as Ansel approached the bed, unamused. Arthur Pos, Lord Eiren, and his men all waited attentively, while Avan was the only one who’d brought a drink. He sipped at it through a child-sized straw.
“The consummation may begin,” Lord Draven announced.
I’d sat on top of the blanket, but now I wished I’d gone beneath it. As I assessed the situation, my legs rapidly slid out from under me, the back of my head dragging down along the mattress.
My eyes widened. Ansel wasn’t getting in the bed; he was pulling me to the edge.
“Is the center not suitable for you?” I ground out quietly.
He tilted his head to the side as he unbuttoned his pants. “I’d hate for the sheets to need changing this late in the evening.”
The familiar warmth of a new cloud blanket surrounded me, radiating into my neck and shoulders—rolling in a massaging motion.
My hands couldn’t move. The blanket held them down. Ansel placed his own hands on my knees, spreading them apart.
His eyes flared with surprise. I hadn’t bothered wearing anything under the nightgown. Fully on display, my pulse quickened as he brought his thumb directly to my clit. With his opposite hand, he held himself, the tip of him just barely brushing my entrance.
“What are you—”
The cloud blanket sent a quick electric shock of cold air over my skin. He pressed his thumb down, lightning striking through my body the precise moment he thrust inside.
I cursed as an ocean erupted from me, splashing Ansel’s white shirt with a loud smack.
The audience gasped. Avan fucking clapped.
Evidence of my orgasm puddled around us, dripping onto the floor.
With unsteady breaths, I tried to speak, but lightning rippled through me again, in sync with him, jolting every part of me with fiery euphoria. I couldn’t think straight—couldn’t move my arms. There was nothing except for intense release, over and over and over again. Thrust, by thrust, by thrust.
By the time Ansel finished, rumbling a low moan, the mattress beneath me was drenched, and the floor was likely the same. As Ansel caught his breath, the cloud blanket evaporated. He firmly tugged my dress back over my wobbly legs.
Zipping his pants back up, he glanced at his shirt and then at me, before slowly shaking his head. “I need to change.”
The wide-eyed audience said nothing as Ansel stormed out of the room, leaving the door wide open.
I glared at the councilmen, nostrils flaring.
Avan winced. “Okay, okay, the ceremony is over. Shoo now,” he said, waving people out with his drink still in hand.
Once everyone else had exited, he approached where I still lay on the edge of the bed and peered at the floor.
“Well,” he began, examining the puddle. “Let’s not tell Sir Riven about this.”
My face burned, and I nodded, too exasperated for words.
Avan left, but Jocelynn walked in.
“Are you alright?” she asked, hurrying to my side.
“Yep.”
She let out a startled breath, taking a step back and lifting the skirt of her dress protectively. “Oh my word, let me send someone in with a mop.”
I covered my face with my hands, shaking my head.
Jocelynn allowed me to exit the premises discreetly from the kitchen, sparing me a word or even eye contact after the puddle incident. I stepped outside into a light rain, thunderous vibrations still reeling through my body. Crossing my arms, I jogged back home.
There were no lights in the windows, but there was an overly conscientious Blademan posted by the entrance.
Riven stood there in the rain, bags under his eyes and hair sopping wet, waiting for me.
I’d never seen him look so broken.
While I had no words of comfort to offer, I did have my presence. I approached him, tilting my head up.
“Escort me to my room, Sir Riven.”
He nodded somberly, but led me up the stairs all the same. We both tossed our wet clothes to the floor, and shamelessly entangled ourselves in bed, skin to skin. Nose to nose.
I fell asleep, but found no peace.
Instead, Xavian delighted in sending me a fond memory. Examples of him moving out of the way when an arrow was nearing him, over and over again.
I woke up frustrated and exhausted, even after my night full of training.
I should’ve sent him a memory back, perhaps the one where I’d saved Beck’s life in the midwinter games.
I’d been the one to stop a hurling object from killing him.
But no, I had no control over what Xavian could see.
Only he had the privilege of learning how to control it.
As my brother, I hoped for both of our sakes he hadn’t been subject to watching anything too disturbing. Shaking my head, I gave my best effort to erase that horrifying thought.
Light shone through the windows in my quiet room. Riven was gone for the day. He’d probably left to train the new recruits hours ago.
I was sore in a way I had never been before, and tired in a way I was all too used to.
I dressed for training, needing it now more than ever if I was going back to Drakington.
The entire house was empty. I treated myself to a piece of buttered toast and a solitary cup of spiced tea before heading out.
The herbs soothed the aching silence in my head.
It was as if my own brain had shut me out.
I couldn’t bring myself to care about most things, but I did care about proving myself to be just as noble and worthy as my brother by the time I returned from Drakington.
There was a shred of doubt, and even a little fear, that I wouldn’t make it back at all. I slammed that thought away and tossed my plate in the sink. After I’d washed and put it away, I opened the front door.
My husband was standing there with his hands in his pockets.
“No,” I snapped, walking right past him.
“No?”
“No, I don’t want to talk to you,” I clarified, reaching the stone pavement.
“Why?”
“Because I have nothing to say to you.” He was no more than a stranger to me, and no less than a liar.
Surely he’d mock me about my body's response, or force me to stay put with his stupid clouds. He caught up, stopping in front of me.
“We have to trust each other. You can have your freedom and your preferred company. I don’t care to control you, Blackheart.”
I wasn’t sure what he cared about.
“I will never trust you, Witchlord.”
He rolled his eyes back in annoyance. “Would you have preferred I pretend to be a Draker? Like your lover?”
I stepped back. “No. I would’ve preferred something else.”
“What do you mean?
“I meant what I just said.”
He rolled his eyes again, even more dramatically. “Yeah, I get that, but could you please expound?”
I leaned forward. “Expound? Is that even a fucking word?”
He shrugged. “Expand upon what you meant by ‘something else’.”
I threw my arms up in the air. “I don’t know, but having my first impression of my betrothed as a Witchlord was an insane decision.”
He scoffed. “Bold of you to think I wasn’t scoping out my options.
You’re lucky the queen is mad, or I might’ve taken her up on her proposal.
Destiny, of course, gives me the choice between a Blackheart with no sense of self-preservation and affections for a Blademan, or an ill-minded widow who plans mass murders for self-care.
Oh, and of course, the slightly less insane of the two of you doesn’t even appreciate my choice. ”
“You are rude.”
“Rich, coming from you.”
“What is your problem with me?” I hadn’t done anything to him. I’d simply minded my own and refused his presence unless otherwise necessary.
He formed a new blue orb between his hands, his Nature rolling and illuminating. He held it up, keeping his eyes on me. “I want to be on the same page, but you make it irritatingly difficult.”
I was tired of men telling me what page to be on. I had no intention of letting him boss me around. His only saving grace was that we were soon be stuck on a ship together. It would be easier to just go ahead and get both of our expectations out of the way.
“Go on with what you want to say.”
He stepped closer, his dark hair towering over me. My body responded to the familiarity, reminiscing of the night before. I tried to find something ugly about him, a distraction, but it was more challenging than expected.
“I meant what I said before. I want us to trust each other, or at least try. I promise to protect you when I can, but you cannot go running off in the night without telling me. It’s not safe.
I don’t care if you keep your habits and…
company. After this war is over, we can have separate residences, if that’s what you wish. ”
It sounded too simple.
“What about when we have children? Where will they live?”
He sighed. “Let’s focus on surviving first.”
“Fine. This is a truce then?”
He held out his hand in answer. I let out a huff that could rival Kostini’s as I grasped his hand, firmly shaking it. He grinned, sending a trickle of lightning all the way to my tailbone.
“Deal.”
After only two short days spent training with the children, tangled in the sheets with Riven, and attending lunch meetings, I was aboard a ship, taking in the capital of Eiden as we sailed away.
Beck, Amzee, and Riven were beside me. Ansel was somewhere on the ship, but hadn’t felt sentimental about watching Castivian fade away in the distance. I watched Xavian standing at the port, until his body became a blur.
“I’m going to miss Zephy,” Amzee sighed, elbow on the edge of the ship.
With our mission being as discreet as possible, we couldn’t risk bringing a bladebreather. I’d thought maybe she’d decide against going, but she’d been eager for the opportunity. Zephy would be fine, especially with the food Xavian promised to keep sending to Moonhill.
Lady Jocelynn hadn’t opted to watch us depart, but she had woken up at dawn to have tea with me.
My parting gift to her was a friend suggestion.
I’d described Trista and where I’d last seen her.
With a little cleaning up, Trista would be the perfect person to accompany Lady Jocelynn.
I’d half-expected her to shoot down the idea, but instead, she wrote the information down and wished me a safe trip.
With me, I had friends and a lover beyond anything I’d ever expected, but I still found my eyes stinging as my brother disappeared from view.
I should have spent more time with him. I wanted to know him better, and give us the chance to be siblings beyond just survival. If I returned home in one piece, I’d make more time for him. I’d loosen the grudge that was not his burden to bear.
I smiled, just barely, as the capital shrank into the distance.
“What are you smiling at?” Beck sassed, knocking me with his elbow.
I grinned a little more, eyes still burning with tears I desperately tried to hold back. “I just feel so lucky that I have a family to come back home to.”
Amzee leaned against my side, locking her arm with mine. “The future is ours to claim, and our home is ours to protect.”
Our home. For the first time, I had something to miss. More so, I had something to live for.
“We are coming home after this,” Beck said confidently.
I nodded with certainty. Yes, we would.