Chapter 20 Esme #3
“This is insane,” I mutter, yet my fingers tremble as they find the clasps of my dress.
The shoulder bands unlatch, fabric sliding against my heated skin.
I feel his gaze like a physical touch as the dress pools at my feet.
My pulse hammers in my throat as I stand before him in nothing but white lace that clings to every curve.
His jaw tightens, a muscle flickering beneath the skin.
“Okay,” I whisper, hating the way my voice catches, “what next?”
“Lie down,” he says, his voice a low rasp. He doesn't move, just watches me, and for the first time, I see the control in his posture falter. His hands are fisted at his sides.
My feet obey even when my brain screams betrayal.
The silk sheets are cool against my bare back, a stark contrast to the heat building between us.
He follows, his weight dipping the massive mattress.
He doesn't touch me, but the space between our bodies crackles, like an invisible current pulling us closer.
“The ritual requires skin contact,” he explains, his voice strained. “The runes will draw from our connection.”
He murmurs something inaudible under his breath, then reaches out, his fingers pausing inches from my collarbone. “May I?” he asks.
I swallow and nod.
His fingers trace the line of my collarbone.
The stone walls of the chamber pulse with a soft, golden light.
My breath hitches. His touch feels like a brand, searing and possessive, and the spell has barely begun.
My own treacherous magic surges to meet his, a dark tendril of shadow wrapping around his fire.
My body arches into his touch, an involuntary betrayal. The runes on the walls flare brighter, casting shifting patterns of gold across his bare chest. I can feel the magic now, a thrumming in my bones, an insistent pull from the walls that seems to draw the very marrow out of me, demanding more.
“It’s working,” he says, his voice a low growl that vibrates through my skin where his fingers rest.
“I noticed.” The words are a ragged whisper. My shadow magic writhes inside me, a living thing drawn to his internal flame. It’s starting to feel less like a fight and more like a dance.
He moves over me, his body a furnace hovering just above mine.
He braces his weight on his elbows, caging me in.
The runes pulse in time with my frantic heartbeat.
Outside, the first firework of golden light streaks past the window, a silent explosion against the cavern’s dark ceiling, while the whole kingdom watches.
“This isn’t weird at all,” I gasp.
A smile quirks his lips. “The spell requires commitment. We have to sell it.”
“Sell what? A lie?” I challenge, but my voice lacks its usual bite.
“A promise,” he corrects. His free hand comes up to cup my jaw, his thumb stroking my cheek. Another shower of sparks erupts outside, brighter this time. “It has to feel real.”
“Wish I was out to watch the show,” I breathe.
He lowers his head, and my breath catches, my entire body tensing in anticipation. The scent of him fills my senses. His lips brush against mine, a feather-light touch that sends a tremor through my entire body. It’s a question, not a demand, and the choice is terrifyingly mine.
“Do you?” he asks.
My traitorous hands lift, my fingers sinking into the thick silk of his hair. I pull him down, my answer a silent flicker of surrender to the current that’s been attempting to drag me under for… too long now.
The kiss is nothing like the one at the altar.
It’s not a performance for the masses, but a raw collision.
Dayn’s spell ignites between us, a supernova of heat and shadow.
My mind goes white with the force of it.
His fire pours into me, and my darkness rushes to meet it, a perfect, terrible symbiosis.
I realize it’s not desire the spell creates.
It’s a magnifying glass, taking any spark that already existed between us and focusing it into an inferno.
Outside, the sky explodes. Golden comets and shimmering novas of light burst in a chaotic, beautiful symphony. The runes on the wall are a blazing star, so bright I can see them through my closed eyelids.
“I think we’re done,” I gasp.
His mouth devours mine, his tongue tracing my lips, seeking entrance.
I grant it without a thought, my own tongue meeting his in a frantic duel.
A groan escapes him as I bite his lip, a low, guttural sound that I feel in the pit of my stomach.
The craving for his blood, for his essence, surges through me with a violence that steals my breath. My teeth ache in my gums.
His hands are everywhere now, tracing paths of fire down my sides, over my ribs, his thumbs brushing the underside of my breasts through the lace.
I arch into him, a desperate, needy sound tearing from my throat.
This is the overwhelming part. The magic isn’t just a light show; it’s a feedback loop.
The more we touch, the more we want, and the more we want, the brighter the magic burns.
He breaks the kiss, his forehead resting against mine. We’re both panting, our chests rising and falling in unison. His golden eyes are wide, pupils blown, raw hunger warring with a flicker of something that looks like fear.
“Esme,” he breathes, my name a prayer and a curse.
The runes pulse, demanding completion. A final, blinding flare of light.
He seems to understand what’s needed. His hand slides from my ribs down to the waistband of my lingerie, his fingers slipping beneath the lace.
The heat of his skin against the bare curve of my hip is a shock to my system.
He’s treacherously close to the lowest, most vulnerable part of me.
His fingers pause, but the world detonates.
A wave of pure energy washes over us, so powerful it feels like my soul is being ripped from my body. Outside, a final, magnificent sunburst of gold and black light illuminates the entire cavern city, a silent testament to our union.
And then, just as suddenly as it began, it’s over.
The light from the runes fades. The sky outside goes dark. The thrumming in my bones subsides, leaving behind a humming silence and the sound of our ragged breaths.
Dayn pulls his hand back as if he’s been burned. He rolls off me, putting a careful foot of distance between us on the massive bed. He sits up, his back to me, running a hand through his sweat-damp hair.
The cool air hits my skin, and I shiver, suddenly aware of how exposed I am.
I pull a silk sheet up to my chin, the reality of the situation crashing down.
The spell is done. The kingdom is satisfied.
And I am lying half-naked in a bed with my sworn enemy, my husband, every nerve ending in my body screaming for more.
“Well,” I finally manage, my voice hoarse. “That was… symbolic.”
He doesn’t turn. “The promise has been fulfilled. We won’t be disturbed.”
The silence that follows is heavier than any stone in this mountain. The charade is over. The magic is gone. And all that’s left is us, and the terrifying, undeniable truth of what just happened between us.