Chapter 38 Chelsea
Chelsea
Eryx is gone and I let him walk away. I just let that beautiful man leave the kitchen. His shoulders even sagged.
My heart aches as the sound of his footsteps grows fainter.
I should have told him I’m hungry, too. Sat with him. Made it normal.
Pride comes before a fall.
I hope I don’t live to eat those words.
The casserole does smell amazing. Eryx is right about that. I place the foil back on top and grab the original lid to rinse it off.
I almost have it under the water when I stop.
There’s a note taped to the underside of it. What? Who puts a note under the lid?
I peel it off and open it, pull out the cheery yellow card.
Wishing the newlyweds a healthy start to their relationship.
—Helena
My blood turns to ice.
Helena—the woman who murdered his father. Who sent the shadow monster to kill me. Who almost killed Eryx.
No. No. No. No.
My mother made this. She gave it to me. My mind races to remember what she said when she handed me the casserole, but so many people were talking, I was distracted.
“Casserole for you…she stopped by…”
Holy shit!
“Eryx!”
I race from the kitchen, still clutching the note in my fist. My legs pump as I wind through the manor.
He's eating it right now. He could be dying right now.
The thought makes my chest seize.
I just realized I love him, and I'm about to lose him to a poisoned casserole.
“Eryx!”
Where the hell is the study? There are so many damn rooms in this place.
One door is open. Light spills into the hall. I burst through the door and see Eryx bringing the fork to his mouth.
“No!”
I lunge for him and slap the fork from his hand. It clatters to the floor. Food hits the wall.
He stares at me in shock, and I fall to my knees at his feet, my hands trembling.
“What in the world?” he says.
I look up at him, blinking tears from my eyes. “The food…” I gasp. The words tangle in my throat. “It’s cursed.”
I thrust the note into his hands. His eyes scan it and his face darkens.
Is he mad at me? “I didn’t know. Eryx, I swear. I didn’t know it came from her. Please believe me.”
He stares at his plate of food, food that was possibly poisoned or spelled, or both. The woman tried to kill me once. This time she might not have us dead—but she wanted us afraid.
“I’ll destroy her,” he grinds out.
“I’m so sorry,” I repeat.
His gaze snaps on me, and the dark look in his eyes dissolves. He exhales a slow breath and then slowly takes my face in his hands and pulls me into his lap. He kisses my tears away, his lips brushing over my skin, leaving dots of heat where they land.
“You…saved me,” he says, his voice thick like it comes from the depths of him.
I wrap my arms around him and press my face into his neck. “I’m so sorry,” I murmur against his skin. He shivers and I squeeze tighter. “The note was under the lid. I didn’t see it until I was washing up. I never—ever would’ve heated it up if I’d known.”
Fresh tears leak from my eyes, and he cradles the back of my head. “Shh, it’s okay. It’s not your fault. Here. Stop crying. Let me see.”
He gives me a gentle tug, and I sit up, exhaling a shaky breath.
Eryx presses his lips to my cheeks and murmurs, “I didn’t say no because I don’t think you can handle the magic,” he explains, going back to our argument.
“I said no because”—he swallows, his throat working—“because if anything happens to you, I won’t survive it. There’s no version of me that does.”
I suck in a breath. “What?”
His voice trembles. “I won’t survive it, and it makes no sense. You’ve only just walked into my life, but Chelsea—” His voice breaks.
His words sink into me. Oh God. I think he just named what I’ve been feeling, too.
It’s my turn to take his face in my hands, and I kiss him slowly, deeply. “I won’t survive it, either.”
We stare at each other. My tongue feels so heavy, like it knows I can’t take back those words and we’re both waiting—to accept each other, acknowledge each other, admit we’re in way over our heads.
He looks at me for a beat as tension hangs in the air. My body coils tight, waiting, expecting, willing, and then—
“I love you.”
And it feels like I’ve just been filled with the breath of life. Never has anyone said those words to me and they meant as much as they do now.
Hearing him say it? Hearing him choose me?
That’s everything.
Because Eryx has seen every part of me—the dark places I’ll go, the light inside me, and he’s chosen those parts, not laughed at them or discarded them, but held them to his chest and called them beautiful.
He kisses me and when we part, he presses his forehead against mine and I say, “I love you back.”
I hear the smile in his voice when he replies, “Are you just saying that because I said it?”
“Yes.”
He laughs and kisses me again, and I say, my teeth scraping against his, “No. I love you, too.”
We kiss and this time there’s something more feverish to it. His tongue slides into my mouth, and I give it right back.
Between kisses I murmur, “You’re not allowed to push me away.”
“Done.”
I straddle his crotch and feel his erection pressing into me. My kisses become more frantic. “And I can eat as many nightmares as I want.”
“Only if I’m around.”
His hands slide up my shirt and tug down my bra. “Always if you’re around.”
I hiss as he rolls his thumbs over my nipples. “And we’ll figure out how to use our magic together.”
“Anything you want.” He pulls my shirt over my head, tossing it aside.
Hunger fills his eyes as he takes me in. Then his mouth drops to my nipple and he sucks on it, hard. A yelp slips from my mouth and he pauses.
“Too hard?”
“Not hard enough.”
He chuckles. “My beautiful fucking monster.”
“I want you.” My hands fumble with his belt. “Now.”
He helps me, fingers working faster than mine, desperate. Belt buckle hits the floor. Zipper down.
I open his slacks and pull out his cock. He’s hard, so hard. I’m hungry for him.
“Chelsea—” His voice is strained. “I need you.”
“I need you more.”
He slips his fingers up my skirt and under my panties. His fingers find me wet, ready. “God, you’re so soaked for me.”
“For you. Always for you.”
He strokes me once, twice. I’m already trembling.
We stare at each other for a moment; then he pulls my panties aside. Our eyes lock.
“I love you,” he says.
“I love you back.”
And then I slowly sink onto him and suck in a breath as he fills me up.
Eryx slides his hand over my neck and kisses me. “Take all of me.”
I wait as my body opens more and I sink down farther.
“There you go,” he murmurs, kissing me.
I rock against him slowly. He moans and rubs my clit with his thumb. We kiss, each of our tongues probing the other—harder, deeper.
I want this but I want—no, need more.
I need to feel claimed.
I break away from him, and panting, I tell him, “Take me from behind. Go as deep as you can. I need to feel every inch of you.”
He pauses with a question in his eyes. “You’re sure?”
I nod.
With me still straddling him, he stands with one fluid motion.
“I guess someone is feeling better.”
He kisses me again. “You’re the best medicine there is.”
I tug his shirt up, and he lifts his arms one at a time so I can free it from him. Then he slowly bends and settles me on the thick rug.
“Give me everything,” I say. “Take me as hard as you want.”
He swallows, like I don’t know what I’m asking for.
“I trust you.”
Then Eryx kisses me again, and when I flip over, he kisses my back, where the wounds have turned to scars thanks to Stave’s healing. His hands brush down my breasts, down my stomach, to the patch of fur between my legs.
And when he slides into me, I bite my bottom lip. He is big, filling every inch of me like I wanted. He pumps into me slowly, moaning.
He pulls out far, and the friction builds against my clit as he drives back in. His fingers dig into my hips, and I remind him why we’re here.
“Claim me, Eryx. Make me yours. Brand me.”
He bends over and kisses my shoulder. “Tell me to stop.”
“I won’t.”
“I can’t be responsible for what happens.”
“I’ll be just as guilty as you.”
He rises and his grip on my hips tightens.
And then he lets go.
Eryx slides in and out of me frantically, and my breath catches. Pleasure winds around me as he pumps harder, slamming his hips into me.
I let go, too.
His power, his magic, it flows into me—hot, hard, sensual, building until I can’t keep it locked in any longer. It explodes from my hands, and for a split second I see everything clearly.
The shadows he commands coil around us and swallow me whole. I push them away just enough for them to sense I’m in control.
But I want this. I open myself to them.
Then they do the unexpected. They wind around my hands like gloves and extend like claws.
Eryx has wings.
I have claws.
“Chelsea,” Eryx cries.
“More,” I say, panting.
He unleashes everything he has, his hips slapping against me. Pressure builds, the magic tightens and I shatter.
“Eryx!”
“Chelsea!”
A wave of pleasure rolls over me, and I dig my hands into the rugs. The claws cut like glass, leaving ribbons in their wake. And I feel it—a bond snapping into place. Not forming. Completing.
I rise up and Eryx pulls me to him, his hands run down my body—over my breasts, over my clit, plunging into me as he pulls out.
He nuzzles my neck. “You came so hard.”
“I came for you.”
He spins me around slowly, kisses all the soft places on my body and lays me down, where he kisses me more. He spots the tattered rug and frowns.
“What happened?”
I smirk. “I really did become a monster.”
He flicks his tongue inside me. “Not just a monster—my monster.”
And then he pulls me close, and I stare at my hands. They’re normal now, like the magic dissolved when passion hit its peak.
They’re not gone, Nightmare whispers. They’re part of you now.
I'll become the monster I need to be to keep him alive. I thought that earlier and meant it. And now I have the claws to prove it.
A slow smile spreads across my face. I wouldn’t have it any other way.
I yawn and close my eyes. Before I drift off completely, I feel Eryx's arms tighten around me.
"I've got you," he whispers.
And I know he does. Just like I've got him.
Whatever comes next—Helena, danger, war—we face it together.
Bonded. Claimed. His.