Chapter 66
Chapter Sixty-Six
Emmeline
This wasn’t like the explosion atop the seeing chamber in Valyn when Emmeline’s magic had been uncorked and flooded the air in a torrential storm—a release after being compressed for so long.
This time, the room didn’t shudder, the sky didn’t fall.
This time, everything claimed. Shooting stars swirled around the room in ecstasy, silver and sparkling. Dust and rubble whipped around them, ruins rising into the air on a steady wave of ether, shimmering along ripples of lilac magic.
Everything within Emmeline combusted, a burning, wanting ache that needed to be satisfied. Her magic beat demandingly through her veins. Starfire rippled along the base of the seeing chamber, climbed the shredded walls.
Through the blue glass of the skylights above, lights flashed in broken shapes.
“The constellations,” Emmeline whispered.
As they had atop Lyra when she revealed her last secret, the major constellations of the Fates spun, cracking and forging with every breath from her lips, every beat of her magic.
And as on Lyra, everyone would see. They may not know why it was happening, but they wouldn’t be able to hide the stars.
“They’re answering,” Roremar said, awed.
Emmeline’s attention snapped down to him, the glass above painting his sharp features in a statuesque blue.
“The stars are responding to this.” Roremar squeezed her thigh.
“Us.” His voice was breathless, each word laced with relief.
“Fatesworn bonds are gifted by the Fates, right? They have to be confirmed, no matter how deeply two people love each other.” His eyes flicked back to the sky. “This is them acknowledging ours.”
Emmeline’s mind raced through all the bonds she’d read about as she watched the constellations flash above, still afraid to admit this was true. “That’s normally done during a joint reading, though. In a…in a bonding ceremony, overseen by a priestess and the Fates, and a tattoo is given.”
“When has our magic ever been normal?” Roremar traced her jaw. “The stars are acknowledging how deeply I love you.”
“Is it because of the bond?” she whispered, almost afraid to ask. Is that why she felt she belonged here? Is that why he’d claimed her?
“No,” Roremar swore, understanding how deep her fear ran after how long she’d searched for security.
“No, Emmeline. I don’t love you because the stars ordained it.
I love you for all the reasons I’ve told you.
I’ll remind you every day if you’d like.
But none of them are because the Fates wrote it.
If anything, they guided me to you, but I choose you, I have been choosing you, and I will choose to love you again and again even if we are cursed to be apart.
My love for you? It exceeds the stars. It could write entire galaxies, Emmeline.
” His grip on her tightened. “Please agree.”
Emmeline’s heart rioted. She couldn’t help the instinct that while they were right about the rare, mythical bond they shared, that wasn’t the whole truth of what was happening right now.
That while the stars were addressing their bond, the crashing lights above sent an ominous fire sparking through her veins.
But it also woke something else…Something right.
An answer she’d searched for her entire life.
A home she’d never allowed herself to wish for.
A love she’d never dared accept.
And so instead of giving into the fear of what burned on the horizon, Emmeline took. Eyes still stinging, for the first time in her life, Emmeline gave herself a true chance at belonging.
“Yes,” she whispered, lips crashing back to Roremar’s.
It was only one word, barely more than a breath, and yet she knew he heard everything she wanted it to convey.
The terror she clung to, but the utter release of it all.
The admission that she wasn’t used to having anyone belong to her or her to them, but she was taking him as her own, against the will of whatever may come and whatever stars may shatter because of it.
Roremar tangled his hand in her hair, tipping her jaw so he had perfect command of her mouth. His tongue stroked against hers at the same time his fingers dove beneath her skirt.
She whimpered as he drew circles against her, brushing the sensitive spots along the inside of her thighs.
Long fingers traced along the edge of her panties, down her center, teasing her until she was panting and remembering how he looked stroking himself.
How she’d always wondered what it would feel like to have him touch her.
Her hips jerked, wetness gathering between her legs. Magic tunneled through her with a hungry pleasure she’d never experienced before.
“Fates, please, Roremar,” she begged. She needed him to touch her.
“Tell me, Huntress,” he said, breathing heavily as one finger circled where she wanted him. She could barely think straight from the need. “Tell me you love me. Tell me you’re mine.”
“I love you. Fates, I love you,” she nearly cried. “I’m yours.”
Roremar pressed down, and pleasure mounted within her, stars shattering in her vision and tipping her toward that peak faster than she would have thought possible.
“More,” she begged, even as constellations forged in her mind. As the stars above answered and starfire rippled in her vision.
Roremar cursed as he pushed aside her panties and gathered her wetness, plunging two fingers into her center. “So fucking wet for me, Emmeline. Do you know how perfect you are? How good we are together?”
Those words had been haunting her for days. We’re not good. We only ruin each other. If this was ruin with Roremar, Emmeline claimed it.
His thumb pressed teasing circles as she clenched around him, not offering her even a second of reprieve. She squirmed against the pillar.
“Do you want it fast or slow?” he asked.
His stare flicked between her face and where he fucked her with his fingers, memorizing every slight reaction.
Fates, he was always so observant, it only stood to reason he studied her here, too.
That silver gaze flared as a moan slipped up her throat, his lips brushing her neck again, dragging out every reaction she gifted him.
“I think you want me to be slow,” he said, his pace matching his words. “Take my time.” His lips pressed to her neck. Her legs fell open wider, hips rolling into his hand. “To taste and tease every inch of you until you see the stars you’re made of.”
He dragged a finger up her center, gathering her arousal. Once—he only circled that perfect spot between her thighs once—and she whimpered.
“Or is slow not the answer, Huntress?”
“No,” she demanded.
He dipped back to her entrance, sinking into her shockingly fast.
“However you want, Emmeline. Take everything you need,” he breathed as he watched her writhing against his hand.
His eyes—that utterly tormented, possessive, and infatuated stare—had her shattering.
Magic sparked in her veins with her orgasm, the Fatesworn bond coming to life and feeding on this connection between them. It heightened her pleasure.
Desire and devotion, something that had lived without an answer for centuries, millennia. It needed to be tamed and worshiped.
“Quiet, Huntress.” Roremar laughed as she cried out. “There are a lot of other people in this manor. Don’t be reckless, now.”
“I don’t care,” she panted, the stars insatiable. “I need more—you.”
She kissed him and there was nothing soft or gentle about it. This was an unleashing. He’d claimed her, and now, she was throwing all caution to the stars.
“Here?” Roremar asked against her lips.
Emmeline nodded, emphatically, barely able to pull her mouth from his long enough to answer. Her hands dug into his waves, tugging his head to the angle she wanted.
As if in answer, the white fire rimming the seeing chamber flared, climbing the marble walls. The entire room turned to stardusted ruin.
Roremar gripped her hair, pulling her head back to meet his eyes. “I can’t worship you the way I need to here.”
Emmeline panted, but a challenge sparked within her. Her teeth sank into her bottom lip as she tugged at the laces of his tunic. “Not up to the task, Reckless?”
“That Fatesdamned lip bite,” Roremar groaned, and he was on her again, devouring her.
He spun her away from the pillar, kicking his cloak out across the floor. Emmeline ripped his tunic over his head so she could drag her hands down bare, tattooed skin and feel the heat of him.
Roremar lowered her, setting her atop his cloak. Emmeline leaned back on her palms, drinking him in as her chest rose and fell.
Hunger burned in his silver stare as he knelt before her, constellations whirling through the blue glass overhead. Awed, he dragged his thumb over her cheekbone, across her bottom lip. He pressed into the swell, watching that spot he seemed to love.
Love.
There was so much love and adoration, disbelief and utterly devoted reverence staring down at her. As if his entire existence was because of her. After she’d been used and manipulated for weeks, it pulled at every vulnerable thread within her.
And if she hadn’t already been so firm in this decision to fuck the Fates and the tournament and all the threats on their heads, the look in his eyes alone would have convinced her.
Roremar pressed his thumb into her lip harder. Emmeline opened her mouth, sucking and swirling her tongue around the tip. He groaned a low, “Fuck,” and her gaze dropped to his pants, his cock tenting the fabric.
She quickly pulled them down, and his impressive length sprang free. The tip glistened as she gripped him at the base, working her hand to the head to gather the moisture beading there. Roremar hissed through his teeth. The sound had her nipples pebbling, skin tingling.
“Huntress,” Roremar swore.