Chapter 31
The moment we’re alone, Amriel’s gaze heats. His arms thread around me, his hands splaying against the small of my back, pulling me close.
A wave of fire rises in my blood, but I tamp it down. I have a very specific idea about how this should happen, and it doesn’t involve him stripping me naked before I’ve even settled in.
He leans down, his intent clear, but my hand lands against his chest and push. He pauses, but doesn’t retreat, so I push harder.
That infuriating smile kicks up. “What? Don’t tell me you’ve changed your mind already?”
I lean away, trying to put distance between myself and that devilish smirk. Because goddess, I want him.
But. This has to be done the right way. “Stop,” I say, fighting the heat that rises in my cheeks, the wild call of the bond. “I need to take a bath, first. And then I want a tour of the castle. And then I want to go to dinner.”
He retreats an inch, one eyebrow winging upward. “A tour? Of the castle? This castle?”
“Yes. I haven’t had one yet, and I haven’t actually been anywhere. Except here, and the kitchens, and the solarium, and the dining hall. Well, and the concert hall. And the garbage chute.” My nose wrinkles.
“A tour of the castle.” Amriel’s eyes narrow to slits. “So this is my punishment, then?”
“Your punishment?” I look at him askance. “For what?”
“For taking so long to get to you.”
Now it’s my turn to give him a narrow look. “Actually, yes. Because that was cruel. Why didn’t you just come to me by gyre? Tell me you weren’t dead? That you were coming on foot?”
His gaze drops to my lips as his tongue runs across his teeth. I bury the urge to nip at it, to suck it into my mouth. “I thought about it,” he says, low and hot and suggestive, “but I figured that maybe, if I gave you a chance to miss me…” He trails off with a grin.
“Wait, what?” Outrage has me slapping at his chest. “You thought that if I believed you were dead, that then when I found out you weren’t, I’d be so relieved I’d agree to marry you?”
He shrugs, unrepentant. “Something like that.”
I shriek, venting the indignation rising hot in my throat. This time, when I shove, he stumbles back, but he’s half-laughing, his lashes pulled low over liquid eyes. “Well, it worked, didn’t it?”
“I hate you,” I hiss. “And love you. But mostly, I hate you right now, and…just get out. Go. I’ll find you when I’m ready.”
He takes a few steps backward, his smile stretching, those ridiculous dimples blunting the edges of my anger. Which only worsens when he spins toward the door, because…
My goddess. Those pants, hugging his backside like that. And that vest. A row of crisscross laces runs up the back, the fitted panels hugging his slim waist while simultaneously showcasing the breadth of his shoulders.
I resist the urge to stuff a fist into my mouth, but can’t hold back the choking sound that fills my throat. I swallow it back, too late.
Amriel pauses. Aims a glance over his shoulder without turning, and I just know it’s because he’s granting me a view of that silhouette. “What is it, Princess? Something the matter?”
Oh, this smug bastard.
“Out,” I manage, waging a war with the lust curling through my veins. “My room, I… Out. Just go. Now.” The words are hoarse, so thick on my tongue I can barely get them loose.
He chuckles. And saunters—actually saunters—to the door. But he leaves. The door clicks shut behind him, and I slump to the floor, my knees sinking into the moss. For a second, I consider hurrying after him, begging him to come back, but…
No. There’s an order to this. A very specific order. And first up is a bath.
I take my time with it. Luxuriate in the hot water for over an hour. I soak away the last remnants of my grief-stricken fugue, then lather and rinse my newly short hair. It feels strange for so much of me to be missing, but also liberating, somehow. I feel lighter, freer. Bouncier.
When I finally rise from the tub, I make my way to the closet, where I hang up my Aethrolian dress and sift through the fae ones I never dared to wear.
Eventually, I settle on a sleek one in green.
It would be considered scandalous in Aethrolia, with its slit skirts and a plunging neckline that cuts nearly to my navel, but I love it.
I pull it on in front of the floor-length mirror.
The fabric hugs my curves, the gauzy sleeves cupping my shoulders and trailing around my hands, and I barely recognize myself.
The woman in the mirror looks as free as my hair makes me feel.
Downstairs, I run into Ravenna on the staircase. She shrieks her excitement and folds me into a hug.
“Shadows, look at you! You look fae. But where’re you going? What’re you doing? I know you probably want to be with Amriel, but I couldn’t help myself from coming to check on you.”
I grin at her, taking her hand in mine. “Amriel needs to be punished a little. So maybe you could give me a tour?”
Her eyes spark. “A tour?”
“Yes. I want to see everything. Everything I’ve been missing.”
She grins. And shows me everything, dragging me from the top of the castle to the bottom.
There are rooms I’ve never even dreamed of—art studios and music halls, stone terraces that open to the outside, sitting areas that overflow with flowers.
There’s a library so grandiose it makes my chest ache, and arched training halls lined with racks of weapons.
There’s even a communal bath, where steam rises gently from open tubs while condensation drips down the tiled walls.
Plus a wide, low-ceilinged lounge where gauzy curtains frame an array of giant beds.
There, fae couples gyrate against one another in dim lighting.
I even spot a bed occupied by—I count the bodies—eight fae at once, their limbs woven tightly together.
My eyes linger there. Goddess help me, but this part might take some getting used to.
Not that Ravenna lets me watch for long.
She grabs my hand and tows me back out, showing me the apothecary, where bundles of herbs dangle from the ceiling.
From there, we visit an indoor museum, where historical artifacts sit on display, their origins stretching back over the eons.
She explains each one, until my head whirls with the influx of information and I can’t remember the difference between a coronet and a diadem.
By the time we finish, my feet throb and sunset swathes the landscape outside.
I peer out a window, astonished to find that the abyss below no longer exists.
Now a true courtyard waits below, the castle cupped around it like an adoring hand.
Even the Wildwood has shed its cloak of shadows.
Now it gleams in shades of violet, mirroring the twilit sky above.
A pang gathers in my throat. This place is so beautiful it almost defies belief.
Ravenna gazes out, violet light catching on her cheekbones. “Apparently that’s how it was, before Alanna’s curse. I never saw it, of course, but that’s what everyone says.”
I swallow through a thickened throat and nod, unable to tear my eyes from the courtyard, the forest. What’s out there now, in the Wildwood? More doors that lead to who-knows-where? Or just a regular forest with glowing moss and luminous leaves?
I’d like to see for myself. Actually set foot in there again. But first…
I turn to Ravenna. “It’s dinnertime, isn’t it? Amriel will be down there?”
She scans my face, then breaks into a mischievous smile, as if she can read my thoughts. Most likely she can—I’ve never been good at dissembling.
She nudges an elbow into my side. “Is his punishment over, then?”
I snort softly. “No, but I’m ready to let him make it up to me. Or to try, at least.”
A startled laugh bursts from her mouth. “Oh, Sariah. You’re going to be just fine here. I’m sure of it.”
I answer that with a smile. Because I’m sure, too.
In the dining hall, silence falls as we emerge from the stairwell. Amriel sprawls at the head of the table, just like last time. Only now, when everyone rises, he does, too.
My heart swells and swells and swells. He stares at me, his teeth digging into his bottom lip, his chest stilling as his eyes sweep me up and down. When they return to my face, so much love and desire burn there that I forgive him, just like that.
Not that I plan to let him know it. Not yet. I even take a place halfway down the table, for the express purpose of extending his torment.
We feast. Like last time, Amriel’s eyes never stray from mine. On at least a dozen occasions, his hand sneaks below the table to adjust himself, and I laugh.
His fault for wearing such tight-fitting pants.
The fae welcome me, asking me to regale them with tales from the labyrinth.
I do my best to recount it all faithfully, relishing the way their eyes follow every movement of my hands, how they hang on to my every word.
Someone pours me a goblet of wine, and I take my very first sip of alcohol, then set it aside with a splutter.
Must be an acquired taste. Because yuck.
Amriel listens the whole time, looking more relaxed than I’ve ever seen him. No wine for him tonight, I note, but then again, he doesn’t need it anymore.
Maybe he’s glad to be free of it.
When the dishes disappear and everyone’s attentions inevitably turn to dessert, I rise from my seat, finally answering Amriel’s silent call. He pushes back his chair, gazing up with worshipful eyes as I slip between his knees. As I ease myself up onto the table, a smile teasing at my lips.
“That dress,” he says hoarsely. “You can have anything you want, if you’ll just keep wearing that dress.”
I smile. Who knew that a few scraps of silk could grant me such power?
Or that power would turn out to be such a funny thing.
I have it in spades now—singing in my veins, sizzling in my fingertips, humming in the roots of my teeth.
I could touch this table and make another one. Duplicate everything in this room.
And yet I prefer this—the ability to make Amriel’s breath hitch, to make the pulse in the hollow of his throat flicker a little faster.
“Am I forgiven?” he rasps, his eyes traveling over me. “Can I finally have dessert?”
I lift my foot and press it into his chest, gratified when his hands come up to circle my calf. He hangs on like a drowned man clinging to a lifeline.
“Go ahead,” I say, my thighs already tightening with anticipation. “But don’t ever let me think you’re dead again. Or next time, I’ll kill you myself.”
He closes his eyes in relief, but he doesn’t stand, like I expect.
He just scoots his chair closer, running his fingers up the outsides of my legs, sending fiery bolts up into my stomach.
I lean back, my elbows digging into the table.
Everyone around us has already gotten started, but my heart still thunders in my ears as Amriel peels up my skirts and drapes them around my waist, baring me to everyone here.
As he curls his arms around my thighs and drags me to the edge.
As he licks me with delicious slowness. Circles his tongue around the spot that makes me shiver, his moans guttural as they echo from the leafy ceiling.
A tingling wave consumes me, one with no end and no beginning. My toes curl, the makings of a spasm already spiraling at my core.
My head hits the wood as Amriel works me with his tongue.
As he pours me full of pleasure. Down the table, Ravenna straddles Calen, her hips arching and flexing, while close by, another woman sits in her partner’s lap, her back against his front as his hand swirls between her legs.
She catches me looking and smiles, right before her eyes roll back in her head.
It’s beautiful, I decide. That they share this with each other. That they trust each other this much.
Amriel slips a finger into me, and I clench around him.
Moments later, I’m flying off the peak, my cries heating the air as my body bucks against the table.
Wave after wave crashes through me, and when I open my eyes again, the Shadow stands between my knees, undoing his trousers, easing himself into me with excruciating slowness.
He fills me, fills me, fills me. I gasp, my spine arching as he studies me with golden eyes. I reach for his face, my vision still hazy, my fingers tangling in his snowy hair.
“I missed you,” I whisper. “I missed you so much. But please don’t be gentle.”
He kisses me, fangs and all, our tongues swirling together.
His hips churn—slowly at first, then faster, and I cling to him, whimpering, barely able to withstand the onslaught of love and devotion and pleasure.
The bond stitches his soul to mine, and when I peer into him, he looks different, somehow.
Like dawn is breaking inside him. The darkness, the fear, the pain… all gone. Only brightness remains.
Our movements turn animal. Primal. He drives into me over and over, and my hips chase every backward stroke.
I turn greedy, needy, riding him from beneath.
His tongue never leaves my mouth, even as a clawed hand finds my throat and squeezes.
A muffled cry of ecstasy pours out of me, and I give myself up completely.
For the first time in my life, I fully let go, surrender to the power coursing through me.
To connection and openness, to the demands of my body. To the bond. To communion.
We come together. My bliss triggers the Shadow’s, and he twitches and jerks, pouring himself into me. The storm of our pleasure crests and crests, finally leaving me breathless, my head lolling to the side.
The Shadow groans. Kisses the side of my neck, traces my earlobe with his tongue. “I know the last dose of Elixir hadn’t worn off yet, but I can’t take any risks. I’m going to fuck you in this form every day. Make sure you never age again.”
I blink lazily and turn my head, peering up into those earnest yellow eyes. “As long as I can have you in your other form, too.”
His mouth lifts on one side, exposing a single, gleaming fang. High above us, a breeze ruffles the starlit leaves.
“Of course,” he says. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”