Evermore

Chapter 39 Paeonia

?PAEONIA

The following day, Paeonia sat on the bench in the small alcove she found with Castor, the sun warm and healing.

Her fever had broken, and she felt like her normal self.

Her arms were still sore, and the memories of the Eldritch haunted her, but other than that, she was fine.

She stroked a wildflower that crawled along the stone bench, sighing.

She worried about saving her father. She thought about asking Rowan to bring her father here, but that wouldn’t cure him—Rowan was no healer. He had made it clear the only real way to get rid of the forsaken was to cleanse the source.

The sun only just barely moved toward the horizon in the afternoon sky, the light still golden and sparked with fire.

She focused on the birds singing, the faint rumbling water of the nearby fountain, and rabbits crunching on the last remains of snow that littered the ground.

“Feeling better?” Rowan asked from behind her. She jumped, his sudden deep voice surprising.

Rowan strolled into the alcove, and she nodded. He crossed his arms, almost seeming uncomfortable.

He sat on the bench across from her, both of them refusing to look away. “Say it.”

“Say what?”

He closed his eyes and she pursed her lips.

“Nothing is on my mind.”

“Fine. I’ll leave you to it then,” he said flatly.

Her fingers tightened around the stone bench as he stood. “Why do you need me?”

He sat back down, appraising her. “I’ve told you.”

“No,” she shook her head. “That’s not good enough. Why did you need to find your mate? Why do you need me, specifically, as your mate?”

He averted his eyes, and Paeonia almost found that alarming. His jaw went taut. “I need my mate to accept me. To need me. To love me.”

Her mouth went dry. “But why?”

Something like embarrassment shrouded his features.

“I never wanted a mate. Thought I could fight the pull that every other fae seemed to fall victim to.” His eyes flickered to her lips.

“But apparently, I couldn’t.” He adjusted the sleeves of his tunic.

“Laurus saw it as fitting punishment. I was cursed to roam Lyth until I found my mate. Then I had to get them to truly care for me. Only that would break my curse.”

“And,” she began, “do you not want to tell me what the curse is, exactly?”

He glanced to the other side of the alcove. “I can’t tell you. That might sway your purpose. And I can’t interfere.”

She crossed her ankles and fanned her fingers down her dress. “What are we to do about my father? The Eldritch is gone, and yet you say the forsaken is still spreading.”

“I could feel the rot in the trees, yes. The forsaken has not fled. It’s weakened and will not grow, but the toxicity of the forest is still running rampant. It must be drained. It must be…”

“What? Did the forsaken truly begin from a bargain?”

His jaw tightened. “In a sense, yes. My father… He broke a bargain with the Gleam Fae and they trapped him as guardian of the woods. But as the Gleam died off, they no longer were around to suppress my father’s corruption.

And the humans… They didn’t exactly help things.

If the heart of the forest is corrupt, it only spreads its sickness.

And with no guardian to take his place, the sickness will die off, but it still lives within the flora and fauna.

It might be decades before it turns over. ”

“I’m sorry about your father,” she whispered.

Rowan’s attention snapped to her, taken aback from her words. “It means nothing to me,” he said flippantly.

“Rowan,” she coaxed, “it’s clear you didn’t like your father. But still, to be forced to kill him. To—” She swallowed harshly, imagining what it would be like if her hands were the culprit of her father’s demise.

“You have a soft heart,” he said.

Her face bunched up, and Rowan gave her a gentle smile.

“I don’t mean that as an insult. But my father wasn’t a good male.

It turns out, none of the males in my family seem to be righteous.

Laurus, he had the best odds of becoming good, to not succumb to the darkness of the court, but I ruined that.

Shattered those chances.” He spoke plainly, like he had trapped the feelings associated with the words deep in stone, never to escape.

“Do you miss him? Your brother.”

Rowan cocked his head. “I…I suppose I do. I miss what he used to be to me. What we had.”

“Perhaps if we break your curse, your powers would be stronger. Could you—I don’t know—stop the spread of the forsaken? Cleanse the forest?”

“I’m not sure.”

She twirled her hands together. “Would you try?”

“For you, I would.”

Her breath lodged in her throat. “Are we close to breaking it, then?”

He traced his eyes along her face, her cheeks warming, and he nodded.

“That’s good,” she hummed breathlessly.

“I think it might kill me to break it.”

“Why?” She wanted to stand and go to him, but she remained seated.

“I don’t think I can handle you not wanting me.”

She straightened in confusion. “Not wanting you? But I do want you.” The confession slid freely, and she refused to take it back.

His lips curled. “Pae,” he breathed.

She clutched her hands together in her lap. “I do… I do want you,” she reaffirmed.

“I can never be what you need, Pae. I’ll never be the gentle man you want.”

That thought lingered in her chest. “I want you anyway.”

His eyes flared. “And do you need me?”

She moved in tiny movements, her chest racing. “Yes,” she whispered.

He leaned back further into the chair. “And do you love me?”

She didn’t answer, afraid. She should tell him, even if—

“Don’t answer that.” He cut off her thoughts. “Not yet. Not now.”

“Why not?”

Rowan’s jaw tightened. “Because if you say it, and this ends the curse, I’ll have taken something from you I can’t give back.”

Paeonia rose despite herself, crossing the space between them. She stopped just short of touching him. “You’ve already taken things from me,” she said softly. “Every time you look at me like that and don’t act on it.”

His breath hitched. “That’s restraint,” he said. “Not cruelty.”

“It feels like cruelty,” she whispered.

He gave a small laugh at her words as if he admired how much she changed; how honest she forced herself to be. “If I touch you the way I want to, Pae, there’s no pretending afterward. No distance. No lies about what this is.”

“I’m done pretending,” she said.

He shook his head. “Are you choosing me?”

She swallowed. “I am. Are you choosing me? Do you want me beyond this bond?”

“I hate that I do,” he said in a low murmur.

“Then have me.”

He stared at her in silence for a moment, and she waited for him to burst out laughing. Mutual desire was something she never thought herself worthy of. A feeling only in the confines of fairy tales.

Instead, he parted his legs wider so she could stand within them.

Then, he edged forward, and his large hands were on her waist. His warmth spread through her coat; he was always producing so much heat.

She imagined how nice it might be to have him wrapped in her arms as they strolled outside in the winter.

Or his body tightly cocooning hers each night as she fell asleep.

He pulled her toward him so she was forced to climb onto his lap, kneeling awkwardly, her dress restricting her movements.

She breathed heavily, their chests almost touching with every intake.

Her fingers shook with nerves, and she clutched onto the lapels of his jacket.

Rowan dragged his hands along her side, his eyes locking with hers, and she silently gasped.

One of his hands slid into her hair and behind her neck, pulling her closer.

“Are you shaking?” he asked her quietly.

She closed her eyes. “Sorry.” She gripped his coat tighter. She knew he was about to throw her off of him, tell her she was too soft for him. Too inexperienced. Too—

“Pae,” he said gently. She cracked her eyes open. The hand he had on her hip slid down to her knees, hiking her skirt up, stroking the stocking beneath. “If you don’t want to do this…”

She shook her head. “No. I do. I just—” She swallowed. “I’ve never done this before.”

“I know.” He released her and grabbed her hands, taking them away from his lapels, and held them enclosed in his fist. “Let me show you,” he begged.

“Don’t you want someone more experienced? A woman who knows what she’s doing?”

He released her hands and gripped her hips, hoisting her as he stood, and moved to place her down where he had just sat.

She gawked at him as he hovered above her, his hands resting on either side of the bench.

He roughly grabbed her skirts, hiking them enough so he could slide beneath them without fully exposing her to the winter chill.

“Legs on my shoulders,” he demanded. He left no room for argument, so even though Paeonia felt endlessly embarrassed, she did as he commanded.

Rowan helped her rest them where he wanted before leaning forward.

He was quicker than he had been before, his mouth finding her center without any time to waste.

She gasped, and Rowan held her hips down as she wiggled.

“R-Rowan, you don’t have to—” She clenched her jaw, trying to hold in the moan.

Rowan paused to look at her. “I want to,” he growled. Then he smirked. “And I won’t fit, otherwise.”

Oh gods, she thought. She remembered how large he had seemed to her in the foyer. But he was the only male she had ever seen, so maybe he wasn’t large at all, but perfectly normal. She had nothing to compare it to.

He began to move his mouth against her, and Paeonia slid forward, her hands digging into the stone. He danced a finger at her entrance, and she lost her breath. He moved his mouth hungrily as he edged his finger inside. She made a strangled noise in her throat.

He groaned against her, the vibrations sending fiery shocks to her core. “So fuckin’ tight,” he mumbled.

She wished she wasn’t. She wished she could be good for him. She didn’t realize she clenched until Rowan stopped moving.

“What is going on in that head of yours?” he asked her, finger still lodged in her heat.

She couldn’t look at him as she spoke. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“Being so tight,” she said shyly.

Rowan let out a laugh through his nose. She wanted to hide away. He curled his finger inward and shook his head. “It was a compliment.”

Her lips parted. “Oh.”

He pulled his finger out and then shoved it back in, and she made a startled sound. “I cannot wait to feel how tight you’ll be around my cock, Pae.”

The embarrassment finally began to ebb away as he moved his finger at a steady pace, marveling at her like he wanted to desperately devour her.

Something soft tickled Paeonia’s hand and she glanced down through half-lidded eyes.

The flowers were blooming and stretching, breaking through the cracked snow.

Flourishing around them. They danced up Rowan’s leg, wrapping around the bench.

He reattached his mouth from her center and slipped in another finger.

Even with only his fingers she felt full—too full.

He worked her until she struggled to breathe, clutching the bench and then her skirts, not knowing what to do with her hands.

Rowan kept her hips pinned and she desperately bucked.

Then she came undone around his fingers, pulsing fervently, groaning and shutting her eyes as he slowed.

She blinked as she came to, Rowan gently removing her legs from his shoulders. When he stood, she immediately traced the bulge in his trousers, her eyes going a bit wide, her mouth tingling from the last time she had seen his pants tented like that.

She should return the favor. She reached out for him, and he stepped back to dodge her. She sat up a bit straighter. “Oh. Sorry. I just thought you’d want—”

“I told you,” he began, closing the distance now that she wasn’t pawing at him, “I’m going to fuck you this time. As much as I’d love to finish around your pretty lips, I have other, filthier, plans on where I’m going to sink my seed.”

Her face went red. So red that she could feel it. And Rowan smiled. He pulled her to her feet, his hands all over her, and she melted. It was cold out, but he warmed her exponentially. He kissed her, moving his mouth roughly in tandem with hers, and her knees went weak.

She had fallen for a fae. She had never melted so effortlessly into Barth’s kisses—a human—but with Rowan, her body craved him. She wanted more. And more.

Flowers climbed both their legs, sprouting all along their shoes.

“We should go before the flowers cover us completely.”

Paeonia nodded.

He released her to direct her back toward the castle. She followed behind him silently, her heart racing, mushrooms and sparkling tulips lingering in her wake. Both their wake. They grew from Rowan’s footsteps too.

The second they made it to the door, Rowan spun her around and shoved her against it, his hands grabbing her bottom and his mouth latching onto hers.