Chapter 29
I woke to the sound of splashing water.
Sitting up, I blinked against the morning sunlight as the splashing grew louder. Rumpled sheets surrounded me, and Lorcan’s scent filled my lungs.
My husband’s scent filled my lungs.
The husband in question emerged from behind a wooden screen with a white towel slung low on his hips. Wet hair streamed over his shoulders, and several dark strands stuck to his smooth chest.
My sex clenched, and a novel kind of soreness reminded me exactly how I’d spent the night. Lorcan had tested a few more angles, putting me on my hands and knees and burying his face between my legs from behind. The surge of pleasure had sent me faceplanting into the pillows, my ass thrust high.
“Stay just like that,” he’d growled, his tongue moving faster. “I think I like this angle the best.”
A few hours later, he had rescinded the statement. Flat on his back, he’d settled me astride him and worked his cock inside me. “Oh, yes, this one is better.”
“There’s water in the basin,” he said now, his voice clipped. He moved past the bed without sparing me a second glance, and he said nothing as he opened a large wardrobe and started pulling out clothes.
Confusion and anger stirring, I threw back the blankets and swung my legs over the bed. My gaze landed on Lorcan’s discarded boots, and I froze.
Got lucky , he said in my memory, a smile dancing in his eyes.
Last night, his boots had almost dropped past the edge of Vander’s ward. Lorcan stood beyond it now, his wet hair cascading down his scarred back. He played a role, his demeanor that of the cold, cruel prince.
Because someone was always watching.
Lorcan dropped the towel. My gaze locked on his rounded buttocks, my mouth practically watering.
Actually, no, it was watering. Gods, I was in serious trouble. Maybe Marrigan had a point.
As soon as that thought landed, I shoved it away. Marrigan was a bitch. I didn’t care what she thought of me.
Lorcan pulled trousers over his hips, and I suppressed a groan of disappointment. When he faced me, I snapped my eyes up and tried to ignore the heat that flooded my face.
His gaze stayed completely respectable as he shrugged into his shirt and jacket. Crossing to the washstand, he ran a brush through his hair before gathering it at his nape and twisting it into a neat queue.
The heat in my face streaked to places it wasn’t supposed to go.
My heart thumping, I tugged the sheet to my chin and held it there.
Never in a hundred years would I have imagined being aroused by a man doing his hair, but I couldn’t deny the signs.
Lorcan could have snapped his fingers, and I would have trotted across the room and helped him with his—
“Corinthe?”
He’d turned from the stand, and he stared at me, sunlight outlining his broad shoulders.
A sudden realization struck me: He was outside the ward. But I wasn’t.
I dropped the sheet and stretched my arms over my head. My breasts lifted, and my nipples puckered as the room’s cool air caressed them. “Yes?”
Lorcan’s eyes moved down my body and then slowly back up. When they reached my face, two spots of color burned on his cheeks. “You should get up,” he said tightly. “The king sent word. We’ll train as usual today.”
The mention of Rasimir snuffed my desire as surely as someone pinching the flame from a candle. I yanked the sheet to my chin. “All right.”
“Meet me in the corridor,” Lorcan said. Without waiting for a reply, he stalked to the door and yanked it open, not quite slamming it behind him.
Twenty minutes later, dark thoughts plagued me as we strode through the Drakhold. The fortress was quiet, with just a handful of yawning servants moving about. Undoubtedly, the courtiers slept off the night’s excesses. But the evening would bring new excesses. It always did.
Morning sunlight set the forest aflame as Lorcan and I passed through the courtyard. One look at Delphine, frozen on her pedestal, and my mood plunged deeper, the happiness I’d felt in Lorcan’s arms vanishing in the harsh light of day.
Lorcan didn’t appear to notice, and he didn’t speak in my head as we moved through the forest. Maybe the gift had faded.
Maybe we were both destined to die horrible deaths at Rasimir’s hands—but not until he got what he wanted from us.
He’d made it clear that he wanted me to produce magical children to further his line.
Possibly I was already pregnant. The thought slammed into me with so much force that I yelped when Vander stepped from behind a tree.
“ Zid ,” he said, and the Everless appeared around us. His red brows drew together. “What’s wrong, Corinthe?”
“Nothing,” I said quickly. “I just don’t like that walk.”
“Can’t say I love it, either.” Curiosity hovered around him as he looked from me to Lorcan.
Lorcan moved around the fountain, his gaze sharpening. “What’s that?”
Vander and I turned. A soft yellow glow spilled from the nearest temple.
“Careful,” Vander called as Lorcan neared the steps. By the time Vander and I caught up, Lorcan was inside with his sword drawn.
But no enemy greeted us. Instead, the temple was transformed, its white marble walls whole and sparkling.
Carpets spread over the floor, and several were decorated with plump pillows.
More pillows lined the headboard of an enormous bed draped with sheer purple fabric.
Tall, golden braziers crackled with fire that threw off a light, intoxicating perfume.
But the most startling feature was a sunken bath.
Steam rose from the surface, which was covered with pink rose petals. More braziers stood at each corner. A wooden stand carved in the shape of a faun held small glass bottles filled with liquid in a rainbow of colors.
A scroll appeared in the air. Lorcan swung toward it, Dark Dream at the ready.
“Wait,” Vander said, springing forward.
Lorcan tensed. “Don’t”—Vander snatched the scroll from the air—“touch it,” Lorcan finished on a sigh.
Vander shot him a defiant look as he opened the scroll and read.
“To Corinthe of Nocta, congratulations on your union with the dragon king and Vander. Thought you could use a proper place to celebrate. Your devoted servant, Ruvien Ulanorin, Duke of Vestra, Lord of the Sea Isles, Son of the First Star of Sarys, Master of Ceremonies, and Queen’s Stablemaster.
P.S. No strings attached. This one is on me. ”
“Duke?” I asked.
Vander frowned at the parchment. “Lorcan gets dragon king , and I’m just Vander .”
Sheathing his sword, Lorcan cast a skeptical look around the temple. “I don’t trust it.”
Vander snapped the scroll shut. “You mean you don’t trust Ruvien.”
“Neither do you.”
“I do when it comes to gifts. Ruvien has his flaws, but he takes the gifting laws seriously.”
Lorcan’s expression softened, and my heart melted a little at the understanding look he gave Vander. “I don’t trust Ruvien, but I trust you. If you say it’s all right, then I believe you.”
Vander smiled. Then he looked at me. “Ruvien likes you.” He waved the scroll around the temple. “The elves almost never dole out gifts with no expectation of receiving something in return.”
“Except they want her to defeat Rasimir for them,” Lorcan said dryly.
Vander closed the distance between them, his soft smile still in place. “Your positive attitude is inspiring.” He tapped the scroll on Lorcan’s shoulder. “Can’t you just enjoy yourself for once, Your Grace?”
The air in the temple shifted. I’d felt it before, when Vander and Lorcan came together. Lorcan obviously felt it, too, because the slightest blush touched his cheeks as he was forced to tip his head back to meet Vander’s eyes.
“I don’t use that title anymore,” he said.
Vander’s smile didn’t budge. “You didn’t answer my question, sweetheart.”
Oh, gods. A fire as bright as the ones in the braziers lit within me. Desire was a languid river in my veins, each pump of my heart spreading it deeper…lower. My fangs throbbed, and my nipples tightened.
Lorcan’s chest expanded as he took a steadying breath. “I can enjoy myself.”
“Good,” Vander said, “because it’s unwise to refuse an elf’s gift.
They don’t like it.” He looked at me, something in his eyes telling me he knew exactly how that sweetheart affected me.
“So I think the three of us have no choice but to take full advantage of this temple. Is that all right with you, Princess?”
It was more than all right. It was perfect.
I’d worried how my marriage to Lorcan would change his relationship with Vander.
They’d survived centuries together. Their bond was deep and special, and I had no interest in damaging it.
On the other hand, I’d also wondered how the three of us would…
work. Now that the opportunity was front and center, nerves joined my arousal.
Vander must have sensed it, because he came to me and tipped up my chin. “I told you to follow Lorcan’s lead yesterday, remember?”
“Yes,” I whispered, my heart beating faster as Vander’s rain-and-forest scent swirled around me.
He brushed a thumb over my bottom lip, his swordsman’s callus scraping my skin. “Today, you follow mine.”
My breathless “Yes” fluttered from me on shaky wings. But Vander knew what he was doing. Smiling, he stepped back and began to strip.
And suddenly I was too busy to worry about relationships or battles or the long line of people who wanted me dead.
Because he was beautiful. Muscles bunched and shifted as he pulled his shirt over his head, revealing a powerful chest sprinkled with copper hair.
Freckles dusted his round pecs and flat, pink nipples.
A trail of coppery hair bisected his ridged abdomen before disappearing into the waistband of his trousers.
He pushed them down his hips, then winked at me as he toed off his boots. “Always forget about my shoes.”