13. Awakening
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Awakening
“Cassiel,” I whispered, reaching out. My hand collided with silky hair. His head rested against the cot, and he did not move.
Blazing heat overtook the sensation of weakness. It was a foreign need so piercing that it eclipsed everything else. I let out a shuddering breath. “Cassiel.”
He popped upright, scanning the surroundings as if prepared to battle, then turned toward me. The only gas lamp Hester left on was the one near the door, so his face was cast in darkness.
“What is it?” he asked, the words colliding with each other.
“I am in pain,” I whispered.
“What is it?” he asked quickly.
Another wave of warmth wracked my frame. My bones ground together as if creating friction, the pain driving deep into the marrow. A secondary pain pulsed between my legs. I shoved my hand against the sensitivity. The pressure only offered the barest relief.
Cassiel leaned forward and breathed in. A low, rumbling sound vibrated in his chest.
“Lay back,” he ordered. I had yet to hear this specific tone from him. It reached inside me, curling around my insides.
Cassiel did not allow me to do it myself. He was suddenly near the end of the cot, chains rattling with his movement. His hands spanned the inside of my thighs. He spread them wide, and it forced my frock to shove up to my waist.
“Cassiel,” I gasped, swatting at his hands in embarrassment.
He inhaled loud enough to shock me into stillness. He pressed his nose against my sex, breathing in. A deep, guttural groan left his mouth.
“Fucking delicious,” he breathed. My body clenched as if his words had been a physical caress. “Relax, bondmate. I will soothe the ache.”
“W-what—”
He licked me up the length of my entrance, sliding his tongue upward until he was near the small tuft of hair.
My thighs trembled from how he held them apart.
My injured leg giving way much less than the other.
His fingers slid down to the crevice, and he pressed into the joint.
With careful rolls, he squeezed my hip, spanning his entire hand across it.
The press of his fingertips relieved some of the tension.
He kept rubbing and squeezing until the tension was gone and my hip had relief.
All the while, his head lowered to lick me.
His rhythm stole my breath.
Shaking overcame my frame, and I couldn’t stop it.
My legs refused to calm. I spread my hands across the cot until I gripped the bars the fabric was attached to.
I dug my heels under me, pushing myself up toward his mouth.
He did not stop plunging his tongue inside me with a maddening rhythm that built pressure.
So much pressure. Moans and cries escaped, filling the enclosure.
“Your pleasure drives me mad,” he breathed, dragging his tongue through my entrance again. My spine arched up toward his mouth; mine parted on a moan. “You drive me mad.” He dragged his teeth over the sensitive flesh.
Ecstasy crashed into me. The overwhelming sensation caused me to push up onto my elbows, reaching for his hair.
I was not sure whether I wanted to push him away or force him to be rougher.
I sank my fingers through Cassiel’s hair, yanking and tugging so hard it was a surprise strands did not come away between my fingers. But I could not stop. He felt too good.
Still, he claimed my throbbing flesh with his mouth, his pace not stopping. The wet sounds only became more lewd.
My sensitive flesh throbbed.
He pulled his head up as I teetered on the verge of another release and kissed the sensitive flesh framing my entrance. Turning a bit more placed his lips at my inner thigh. He sank his fangs in. I screamed, my body arching upon the cot. I did not release his tresses.
Cassiel fed, the tug sending me into another release so intense my moans cut short. He returned to my sex, and I jolted from the overwhelming sensitivity, but he did not let me retreat.
“I will have you come on my tongue again.”
He spoke it into existence, not one inkling of doubt. He delved his tongue back inside me, teasingly pushing it in and out as if it were his shaft.
“Divine.”
Another swell inside me pushed me outside of my body. Cries and moans fell from my lips, so loud I had to press my hand over my mouth.
Still, he did not cease tasting me.
I kept my gaze averted from Hester’s. She braced me on my side, guiding me through the halls.
Every step sent shards of heat across my body, but I gritted my teeth, enduring.
What saved me was that when the ache retreated, it left numbness, making it easier to endure.
When she came to collect me, I had donned my slippers again, glad to find the item Vera placed in there had not been moved.
“Truly, no one saw a thing.” A red flush stained her face.
“But you heard.”
I flicked a look toward Officer Brandt who had refused to look at me the entire walk over to the bathing chamber. He propped the door open for us to pass him. Upon entering, he inhaled sharply. I turned toward him as he swayed toward me. His nose flared and eyelids lowered.
“Officer?” I inquired, concerned.
He snapped straight, mouth opening and closing, horror plain on his face.
“Officer Brandt,” Egan’s familiar voice inquired. “I must speak to you briefly.”
Hester and I hesitated at the entrance.
Egan waved us through. “Enter.”
Hester aided me the rest of the way to the tub.
“I feel as if I am being ripped asunder,” I mumbled, scanning the surroundings. There was no one here.
“You are, or so Al claims. Your body is changing. Organs will twist inside you. Your essence will be utterly different.” She shook her head. “He said you will not need to relieve yourself.”
“But I am still drinking and eating.”
“Yes, and the manner in which your body changes will utilize it as a source of strength.”
Hester undid the sashes at the front of my frock.
As soon as it was loose, it was easy to pull off.
I had no bloomers to remove, so I gripped the edge of the bath and pulled my leg up.
It left me in such a vulnerable position, but Hester stayed by my side, helping me by pressing upon my back to get me into the water.
I splashed inside and warmth caressed my flesh.
I moaned, sinking into the sweet-smelling bath.
“While we are here, can you hand me my slippers?” I asked, forcing myself to grab onto the side of the bath to pull myself upright. The edge of the water lapped at the top of my breasts.
“There is something in here.”
“Vera slipped it inside and I have not had the privacy to look.”
If it was not Al watching me, it was whichever officer was present.
She lifted the slipper with the item inside it and shoved it toward me.
I reached inside and plucked it out. It was slim wood from the tip of my middle finger to the beginning of the wrist. A slight gap indented the middle.
I pulled the wood in two opposite directions.
A slim blade, slightly bigger than a finger, was unveiled.
I quickly capped it back in place and shoved it at Hester.
“Place it back in my slipper,” I muttered, trying to keep my composure as I battled a wave of panic.
I snatched the soap bar and began to scrub my body. There was only one act to commit with a blade and that was harming someone. I detested the idea of needing it, but had to face the truth. If the time came and I had to use it, I would, even if it ended with my death.
Finishing my bath, I pulled the plug to drain the water and stood. Hester held open a towel for me. She kept her gaze averted, which I appreciated, then dried my back. My shoulders sloped down. With every move, it was as if my limbs were weighted. And it only worsened.
“We need to get you back before the numbness fades,” she whispered, leaning a bit too close.
“What are you doing?”
Was Hester sniffing me?
“You smell . . .”
“Like soap I hope,” I mumbled.
“Well, yes, but also, I do not know what it is, but . . .”
She trailed off again, and her nose touched my shoulder. I stiffened, a chill running through me.
“I am sorry,” she exclaimed, straightening.
“It must have something to do with the Awakening.”
A red tint covered her cheeks. “Here,” she mumbled, stretching the hole of the frock to make it easier to don. I slid my hands in and tugged it down as she wound the strings to the front to tie them. “I will see about bringing you bloomers.”
“Thank you,” I murmured, flushing myself. She finished tying the front of my frock, and I slid my feet into the slippers.
“Amara . . .” she began, wringing her hands together. She kept her face turned away from me.
“What is it?”
“For the banquet tomorrow,” she whispered, her attention dropping to the floor. “I doubt I will be able to get the effigy.” She kept glancing away, wringing her hands.
“While the council feels the effect of the poison, your ability will be a key part in the escape—”
“No.” She shook her head, face drawn. “There will be more officers, and I do not know who will have the effigy. My gift has limits. I can only use it once in a dawnlight rotation, and what if to escape, I need to use my gift?” She cut off with a choked gasp. “I-I cannot. They will kill me.”
“They will not let you leave here with the knowledge you have.”
Those were all the words that I could muster in convincing her.
I did not want to force her despite it being a vital piece.
I would pivot my plan. I could attempt to take the effigy with the blade in my shoe if she could not muster to stifle the fear.
My mind raced with panic, but I did my best to calm my pounding heart.
Indecision flickered across her expression. I understood her fear, but they would let none of us survive. Nothing came out upon opening my mouth.
“But I know, either we die trying to get out, or we die when our use has been satisfied,” she whispered.
Exactly that.