Chapter 64
DIEM
Iyawned, rubbing at my eyes as the dawning sun streamed through the front door. Though I could feel the burn of Luther’s stare, I didn’t dare turn my head to meet it.
A foreign yet by now very familiar pressure stirred between my legs, and I let out a laugh. “You’re ready again?”
“I think I see a spot against the wall we missed,” he rumbled in my ear.
Luther had promised to christen our future home by fucking me against every square inch of the house, and by the gods, he was a man of his word. The night had brought little rest and even less sleep.
“You’re relentless,” I teased.
“Did you think I would tire of pleasing you, mate?” His hand dragged through my slick center, and he smirked at the evidence that he was not the only one aching and ready. “Look at me.”
“Absolutely not.” I wriggled from his hold, crawling toward the shredded remnants of my dress. His fingers closed around my ankle, and the wicked memory of the night before shivered through me.
“Look at me,” he repeated, voice low with command.
“Not a chance.”
I squealed when he dragged me back, then gasped as his palm slapped hard against my ass.
Unfortunately for Luther’s desire for control, I loved the punishments as much as the fight.
I managed to pull free from his grip and get to my feet, snatching his ripped tunic from the ground and slipping it over my head.
I turned to the sun and let it spill across my skin, tugging the fabric aside just enough to let the light catch on the shimmering ink of my mark.
My teeth bit hard into my lip to hold back my grin at what I knew was coming next.
Before I even heard him move, my back hit the wall, Luther’s hand careful to cushion my head from the blow. “You’re wearing my clothes,” he growled, grinding against me. “Do you know what that does to me?”
“I’m wearing more of you than that.” I grabbed his other hand and pressed it to my breasts, where his spilled seed was still warm on my skin from minutes prior, when I’d taken him to the back of my throat and shown him how little control he really had.
He hauled my legs around his waist and drove inside me, groaning my name. I melted in his arms and let him use me for his pleasure, knowing mine would follow.
“Look at me,” he snarled, moving fast and feral. The softness of hours ago had given way to the rough, combative passion we both adored.
My head fell back, eyes closing, as my hips thumped against the wall. “Not yet.”
The real punishment would have been for him to pull away, but even his formidable self-control couldn’t tear him from me now. Instead, he drove deeper, harder, angling for that perfect spot inside me. “You know I’ll get you to obey one way or another.”
“Is that a promise?” I purred.
Shadows held me in place to free his hands, and it grew harder to resist him as he stroked every place he knew I loved. “By the Undying Fire, Diem Bellator, if you don’t look at me right now . . .”
Hearing him invoke the mortal religion nearly sent me over the edge. No one else could understand what a step that was for him, the courage it took for him to speak those words aloud. A kinder, more compassionate Diem might have rewarded him for it.
I raked my nails across his mark instead.
He swore as desire scorched through us both. “So that’s the game you want to play.”
The threat in his voice sent my heart fluttering with wild anticipation. He picked up his pace, burying himself faster, sharper. Shadows gripped like fingers on my thighs, then curled around my ass and spread me open, toying at my other entrance.
My eyes shot open, and Luther gave a dark, triumphant laugh.
His cock and his shadows pumped in matching rhythm, leaving me so gloriously full.
With the last scraps of my control, I shifted my chest to align my mark with his.
Only then did I finally meet his eyes, and the love within them sent me soaring.
With the rising sun gilding our joined bodies in liquid gold, we crested together in a haze of languid, glowing bliss.
We walked to the sea and washed each other’s bodies, and I was reminded why I’d avoided his eyes to begin with.
Every time they locked with mine, my defenses crumbled, and within minutes, he was inside me all over again.
When we finally made it back and found enough scraps of our ruined clothes to be decent, Luther cast a signal into the sky, and we perched on the front steps to await Sorae’s return.
“I should have told you sooner,” I said, sighing. “We could have been doing this every night.”
To my surprise, Luther shook his head. “When you pushed me away, I had to learn who I was beyond my calling to ‘serve the grey-eyed Queen.’” He took my hand and threaded our fingers together.
“As long as I live, I will serve you, but that is only the start of what my life can be. If this is what it took for me to see that, I can’t bring myself to regret it. ”
In my heart, I knew he was right. Painful as the distance between us had been, we’d both had things we needed to work through. Whatever future was in our cards, Luther needed to see that he could survive without me—and, to face what might come next, so did I.
“We could still have a mating ceremony, if you want,” he said. “The biggest one Emarion has ever seen.”
“Is that what you want?” I asked.
“I already have the only part of the mating ceremony that matters to me. But maybe . . .” He paused. “A wedding would be nice. In the mortal style. Just for our closest family and friends.”
I’d never been a girl who dreamed of her wedding, but with Luther, the image was easy to conjure.
Reciting mortal vows in front of those we loved, then dancing with them into the night.
A celebration not just of us, but of the people who’d helped us find our way. My happiness glittered at the thought.
“We could have it here, once the house is fully built,” he suggested. “A ceremony in the garden. Dinner in the yard.”
A crack formed in my euphoric veneer. The house still needed months of work. I had days, at best, before Ophiucae’s march for Lumnos reached its target.
“I’d like that,” I said, doing my best to push the sadness down.
Behind us, a log shifted in the fireplace and sent a cloud of sparks swirling with a crack. Luther cast a plume of shadows to snuff the final embers, and as I watched them smoke and vanish, I was suddenly acutely aware of the hole in my chest where my godhood should have been.
“Luther, there’s something else I need to tell you. My magic . . .” I tensed, dreading his disappointment. “It’s not flameroot holding it back, it’s—”
“A bonded bargain.”
I balked. “You knew?”
“I suspected. But then earlier, I thought . . .” He leaned in closer, his focus dancing between my eyes. He frowned, then shook his head. “Never mind.”
“I made a bargain to kill Ophiucae. I had the chance to do it in Sophos. He was right there, and I had Sorrow’s Edge. He didn’t even have his magic to stop me.” My head dropped. “I couldn’t do it.”
He squeezed my hand. “You can still fulfill the bargain. Once you kill him, your magic will return.”
“What if I can’t?” My voice turned small and quiet. “What if everyone’s lives are on the line, and I’m too weak to save them?”
He paused for a moment. “Diem, if I asked you to leave right this second and go somewhere far away from Emarion to live a long, peaceful life alone with me . . . would you go?”
Yes, I tried to scream. Let’s go now, while we still can. I choose you over him, over Emarion, over everything.
But the words didn’t come.
“I . . . of course I want to,” I stammered, “but . . . but I—”
“I know.” He smiled, though it was touched with sadness.
“Diem Bellator doesn’t give up, and she doesn’t abandon what she believes in.
She never stops fighting. It’s one of the many reasons I admire you.
” He pulled me into his side. “Have faith, my heart. You’ll find the strength to see this through. ”
Though his words warmed me with his praise, they also stoked my growing worry.
Because Luther was right. When I made up my mind to fight, I fought—no matter what it cost me.
And I feared that might be a trait I shared with my sire.
“About time,” Taran shouted from the palace steps, Zalaric at his side, as Sorae landed on the front lawn. “I was starting to get jealous that you were having more sex on our mating night than we did.”
My cheeks flushed, especially seeing my mother standing beside them.
Luther flicked a barb of shadow at Taran with a glare, though I could feel his smile fighting to be let loose.
We’d agreed to hide our mating for today to allow Taran and Zalaric their moment, but as Eleanor and Alixe emerged from the palace, the urge to share the news was bursting in us both.
My mother focused intently on my face, then Luther’s. “Did something happen? You two seem different.”
“They’re happy,” Zalaric said. “That’s different.”
Luther and I dismounted Sorae, and my mother walked up and took my face in her hands, turning it back and forth like some curious object. “Is he right—you’re happy?” I knew she saw the answer, but I also couldn’t blame her for hesitating to believe it.
“I’m happy,” I confirmed, smiling. It was the first time I’d meant it in months.
Seeing everyone celebrating together at last night’s reception, then imagining the life I might build with Luther, had given the war new perspective.
Fretting over what it might take had blinded me to what winning it might give: a future to believe in. A future worth sacrificing for.
I took her hands. “Luther did something for me. I’ll show you tonight, after we visit Father’s grave.”
Our attention was stolen by a surprised squeak as Lily and Teller rounded the corner and froze. They, too, were wearing last night’s clothes, stained with grass and fastenings half undone.
“Oh!” Lily exclaimed, face growing increasingly crimson. “Everyone’s here! We were just, um . . . see, we were dancing in the gardens, and, uh . . .”