Chapter Thirty-One
ELARA
Elara tossed and turned in her bed, wishing that she was not alone.
She looked at the empty place beside her. Her skin was still damp from the bath she’d finally taken, and she was in a clean nightgown that Merissa had given her. It seemed that while Elara had blacked out, her friend had managed to pack a little.
The ship groaned and creaked, the hush of waves outside doing nothing to lull her to sleep. She looked out of the window to the endless expanse of water.
Dinner had been a disaster; that much she knew.
But they’d be in Altalune in just a few short days.
She knew there was much she still needed to discuss with Enzo, like the cut on her neck—which he still hadn’t seen yet, thanks to Merissa’s glamour—the bargain she had made with their enemy, and what had happened in the fighting dens.
She turned her pillow over, sighing as she squeezed her eyes shut.
It did nothing to help, instead only bringing her attention to the aching throb that hadn’t left her since being in Enzo’s presence.
She knew it was something more powerful than she understood.
She’d felt want and desire for him before, astronomically.
But what she felt now was nothing short of animalistic.
Ancient. The tie between two souls. She wasn’t sure how long she lay there, eyes closed, trying to ignore both her thoughts and her body, until she felt a breeze upon her face.
Her eyes snapped open to Enzo above her.
She gasped, sucking in a breath, her hand immediately going to her neck. Gods. She hadn’t even heard the door open.
‘Enzo, what are you doing here?’ she breathed. ‘You shouldn’t be so close to me.’
His nostrils were flared, eyes blazing gold—she’d never seen them like that before.
‘I can’t stay away,’ he gritted out, arms taut with muscle bracing on either side of her head. ‘I smell you on the air. I see you in my dreams. Please, Elara. Just a taste.’
‘Just a taste may well kill you,’ she hissed in reply.
‘And never would there have been a sweeter death,’ he replied.
There was a faint, godly glow around him.
The timbre of his voice was richer, the accent more pronounced.
‘Please, my Moon,’ he begged. She had never heard him call her by the name of her heavenly body.
‘If I cannot touch you, then please at least show me what is mine. I’m starved of you. ’
Her nightgown was too hot, too restricting in the presence of Enzo, the heat beating off him in waves.
She wet her lips as her body began to tighten, and desire coiled in the pit of her stomach.
This time, when her body responded to him, when it wanted to do as he ordered, she did not stop it, letting her hands undo one lace, then another, pushing the straps of her nightdress down.
Enzo’s eyes fluttered shut for only a moment, lips slightly parted as though in awe. When his eyes opened again, they were blazing even more richly.
‘No dream does you justice,’ he said hoarsely. ‘All of it. Take it all off for me.’
She felt no shame, no embarrassment, as she pulled her nightgown off and lay bare before him, covered only by a thin bedsheet. Because Merissa’s glamour had faded, she made sure her hair covered the scar at her neck.
Moonlight was seeping in through the bedroom window, and as it touched her naked skin she shivered, as though it was kissing her flesh.
Enzo sat back on his haunches and peeled the bedsheet down, careful that it still stayed between them.
When her most private parts were uncovered, he swore, harsh and low, and gritted his teeth.
Though he wasn’t using his magick, she could feel the heat of his stare, making her wet flesh heat and ache more than it already had been.
‘Open for me.’
Elara let her thighs fall open, breathing in and out through her nose as overwhelming lust consumed her.
His hand flexed by his side, and he near growled.
‘You feel it, don’t you?’ he asked, voice on the verge of breaking. ‘This tie between us. Tell me it isn’t just me.’
‘It’s not,’ she said softly. ‘I can’t sleep for wanting you.’
He shuddered and looked her over once more. ‘Earlier, you…you didn’t get to satisfy your craving. I haven’t been able to sleep thinking about it.’
‘In the bath?’ She laughed. ‘Enzo, that was for you.’
‘But it’s not right,’ he said. ‘That you don’t get to be pleasured. That I can’t fucking touch you.’
‘I know,’ she replied.
‘Can you do it for me?’ he asked. ‘Can you touch yourself, because I can’t? And give yourself all the pleasure I dream of giving to you.’
Elara fought back a moan as her fingers trailed to her parted flesh.
‘Just like in the throne room, princess,’ he urged. ‘Show me what I know you like.’
Her eyes fluttered shut.
‘Imagine it’s my hand,’ he murmured.
She did, imagining his strong arm bracing her like it had in the bath, his deft fingers plucking her like a harp.
She let out a strangled, needy sound as she skimmed over herself, teasing and stroking.
Her hand skittered down to her entrance.
‘Just one,’ he said. Her digit curled inside herself. ‘Slowly,’ he added hoarsely.
She panted, the stretch not enough as she moved her hand. She needed more. She needed him.
‘Please?’ she whispered.
‘Two,’ he said. She let out a breath of relief as she added a second, though the sensation didn’t come close to the feeling of him inside her, their connection, the pure rightness when they’d first made love.
‘Do you feel me?’ he asked.
She shook her head, biting back a sob of frustration.
A lick of warmth rushed over her stomach. ‘And now?’
Her eyes flew open, the sight lighting her on fire. Enzo was kneeling above her, eyes pure gold as flames curled around him. They reached out to her, deliciously warm, but not hurting her. Never hurting her.
She sank back into the bed with a sigh. ‘Again,’ she panted.
Another rivulet of fire shot over her body, feeling like the tantalizing draw of his touch as the flames dipped lower. She cried out. ‘More.’
Trails of heat began to work in tandem with her hand, up and down her bare stomach, up her thighs. The flames burned brighter at Enzo’s will, the magick running over her body as she moaned and writhed.
‘Open those pretty eyes,’ he murmured, and she forced them back open, to drink in the beauty of him, the concentration on his face, the longing.
‘Now feel me,’ he said, and, with a flick of his hand, the flames licked right over her centre.
She cried out as she felt her body tighten, felt the heat of Enzo, his command, a glimpse of what it would be like when she had him in his full glory, drinking in his blazing eyes, the glow emanating from him.
She threw her head back as she twisted, coming apart beneath him.
When the tremors of pleasure began to calm, Enzo leaned forwards, so close that she could barely breathe for fear of touching him.
‘I promise you that not long from now, it will be every part of me that reveres you over and over again. A week, I promised—remember, princess. Perhaps two, though I don’t think an eternity would gift me my fill of you.’
She smiled up at him, slightly sated—though not nearly as much as her soul needed from him. The light in his eyes had dimmed, her Enzo seemingly back with her, with the first glimpse of contentment that she’d seen upon his face.
Until his gaze landed on the locket around her neck. ‘I don’t like you wearing that,’ he muttered, eyes boring into Adrian’s gift.
Elara smiled, reaching up to it as she surreptitiously checked her hair was still covering her scar. ‘But where else would I keep this safe?’
She pressed the little button to open it, revealing the pressed forget-me-not within.
Enzo’s eyes widened. ‘You kept it?’ he asked, voice husky.
She smiled. ‘Of course I did. It was the moment I began falling in love with you.’
She let it fall back against her chest, and Enzo, ever so carefully, brushed a finger over the pressed flower, emotion painting his face.
‘It’s a reminder to me,’ Elara continued, ‘of the fragility of the world around us. Of how our love will persevere. It’s a promise—that I’ll never forget you. My soul didn’t in other lifetimes; it was always searching for yours.’
She sat up as he swallowed, blinking hard, eyes trailing down her as though drinking in every drop of her. Then his face transformed.
‘What is that?’ he demanded, pointing to her throat.
She cursed under her breath.
‘It’s nothing.’
‘That’s clearly not nothing, princess,’ he snapped.
If she told him the whole truth, then she would have to explain that it had happened because of her bargain with Ariete. She swallowed.
‘I received it in Ariete’s dreams,’ she lied.
‘How?’ he demanded.
‘What does it matter? I have it and I’m fine.’
‘Does it hurt you?’ he asked, his hands hovering as he held himself back.
‘No,’ she insisted. ‘And trust me, he fared worse.’
Something within Enzo relaxed at that, and he nodded, though his eyes remained fixed on it. ‘If anything comes of it—if you feel it smart, or hurt, or any kind of magick around it—you tell me. Promise me, Elara.’
‘I promise,’ she said weakly. Gods, she wished she had the courage to tell him that wasn’t how the King of Stars would call upon her, that she had already freely given him her blood.
Enzo nodded, sighing. ‘I fear going back to sleep,’ he admitted. ‘It will be my first time since waking. What if I…what if I become trapped again?’
Elara felt such an ache within her heart for him, as though it was cracking in two. ‘Come here,’ she said, moving over in the bed.
‘But—’
‘I’ll stay awake. I’ll watch over you.’
‘You need to rest.’
‘You need to more,’ she said. ‘Come. As close as you can.’
Enzo carefully lay down in the bed, and Elara put her nightgown back on before sitting up.
‘You’re safe now,’ she reassured him. Enzo nodded before letting his eyes fall closed.
She watched him for gods knew how long: his steady breathing, the flutter of his lashes.
Finally, she was beside him once more. She could have done this all night, but then she swore she heard her name.
She stilled, holding her breath, sure it was a figment of her imagination until it came again. And it sounded like it was outside her room.
Elara looked at Enzo, sleeping soundly, and crept out of the bed, towards the door. She took her dagger from where it lay with her discarded dress and eased the door open.
Nothing.
She tiptoed through the ship until she got to the stairs for the upper deck.
When she crossed into the fresh air, she heard it again.
‘Elara?’
Elara spun to see a beautiful young woman. She was wearing a nightgown too, with dark hair and piercing blue eyes that were hopeful as they stared at her.
‘Yes?’
‘Oh, it’s you.’ She gave such a sigh of relief, as though she knew Elara. ‘I was told you’d help me.’
‘By who? I-I’m sorry, who are you?’
The woman frowned, a most distressed look appearing upon her face. ‘I don’t remember,’ she replied.
Elara looked around the deck in alarm, to the few swabbies on the night shift milling around, and Adrian up ahead, at his ship’s wheel, his back to them.
‘Shall I get the captain?’ she asked. She’d had no idea that there was a female member of the crew. But if something had happened to her, if she was in this confused a state, then…
‘Oh no, I’ll get him myself.’ The woman smiled brightly before walking towards Adrian, who was looking out to sea.
Strange. Very strange. One moment she’d been asking for help, the next she was sauntering away. Elara watched as she approached Adrian and made a mental note to ask him in the morning who the peculiar woman was, before returning to bed.