Chapter 56
Fifty-Six
Heliotrope
My chest burns as Adrian and Lunaria walk in front of me, his hand hovering over her lower back. Even being aware that this was the plan, it doesn’t ease the sting prickling across every inch of my flesh.
Soren—thank the gods—stays close to Lunaria’s side, his ears ticking to the sides at every small sound. The moment I saw Soren, I could feel the energy, ancient and magnificent, coursing through him.
His massive head peers back at me, a whoosh of calm sweeping through me as he lets me know all is well.
The way they communicate is different, more of a feeling than words. Though that could be because Soren isn’t my familiar—I wonder if it’ll be different for Lu. He’s taken to her in the way the dreadwolves did their fae in the stories passed down by the generations.
Soren nudges Lunaria’s hand with his snout. Her shoulders loosen instantly and she gives him a quick scratch on the head.
But the rest of her body language is…off, to say the least. So is her supposed beloved’s. Lu’s back is stiff, and Adrian has yet to actually touch her. While the thought should bring me comfort, it instead adds to my unease.
Rather than a couple reunited, they look…awkward.
I scrub my hand down my face as we walk to our chambers. This is never going to work. When I was in a fake relationship with her, it was an easy ruse to slide into. As easy as breathing.
Maybe not for her—not at first. But for me?
Fuck, it was the best idea I’d ever had.
I found every excuse I could to touch her—my fingers brushing hers, my hands in her hair, my side pressed against her muscular frame. Thank the Divine we were pretending to be engaged; otherwise, I don’t know how I’d stop myself from finding small ways to connect her skin to mine.
But these two look as if a soft breeze could push them apart.
Two guards trail behind us, tasked to protect us from anyone getting in. More like keeping us from getting out. As much time as I’ve spent in Crea, I don’t recognize these guards—just as I didn’t recognize most of those who ambushed us in Wisebech.
The king’s army was vast, so it was impossible for me to know all of them, of course, but I should’ve seen at least a few familiar faces by now.
I made it my business to know people—to connect with anyone and everyone while looking for a lead to find the missing princess who now owns my heart. We haven’t been gone long enough for all of the guards I knew to retire.
Between this and what’s happened to the market, my fire itches beneath the surface of my skin—small sparks dancing along my fingers as I force it to stay contained.
I’d almost forgotten what it felt like to suppress the most natural side of me—the constant focus and strain to stop my magic from answering the way it wants to.
Adrian stops, halting at the door to his old room. He half-turns to me, swallowing before saying, “I take it you remember your way around here should you need anything?”
My teeth grind against each other.
I can’t stop my gaze from sliding to Lu’s, finding her bright hazel eyes already set on me. A wave of calm washes over me. Instantly, my jaw relaxes.
“You look in need of a bath, Snake,” Lunaria murmurs, a single brow quirked. “Perhaps it’ll ease some of that tension you’re holding onto from our travels.”
My mind snaps to an image of her naked in my lap with her sculpted legs wrapped around my waist as water sloshes around us in a copper claw-foot tub.
I can practically hear her throaty moans echoing in the small washroom of her old chambers just next door—wouldn’t be the first time envisioning such a thing in this castle.
The guards shift behind me, snapping my awareness back to the present, reminding me we aren’t alone.
When she smirks, a growl nearly slips from my throat.
She knows exactly what she’s doing.
And it worked.
I’ve never been one for possessiveness or jealousy, but this fucking woman… Divine be damned, she takes me to the brink of insanity some days. Goddess, I’m a mess around her. One grin and the lilting tease of her husky voice is all it takes for her to distract me from my own spiraling thoughts.
“Ready to get some rest?” Adrian whispers, his fingers catching hers.
My stomach twists. Even knowing it’s all for show, I can’t stop my gaze from zeroing in on where they touch.
With her gaze fixed on him, she nods, slipping her hand into the crook of his elbow.
I don’t wait for a parting goodbye. Instead, I shoot the guard who has settled himself between our doors a wink and glide into my new room. The soldier bristles, his face reddening as his nostrils flare.
It’s too fucking easy to rile up Creans.
That’s something the Prince’s Snake loved to do, and if I’m to be him again, then who am I to deny people what they expect?
Just as I’m closing the door to my chambers, Lunaria’s alluringly melodic voice floats over to me, a hushed whisper that makes me send a prayer of thanks up to Eurydice for my heightened hearing.
“Hands to yourself,” she mumbles to Adrian. “Soren is eager to remind you of that if you forget.”
I click the door closed, a soft smile on my face. I love it when she graces the world with her attitude. But the moment their footsteps fade from outside my room, my grin slips.
With a slow spin, I face the familiar space I used to occupy as Adrian’s advisor. My feet carry me to the window on the far side, a memory surfacing of when Adrian told me about the girl he met at the market.
A hollow laugh huffs from my throat.
He was so distraught, so overcome with lust and wonder of this breathtakingly strong woman. I had laughed at him then, too. Certain that he would lose interest by week’s end.
But then the matching announcement happened, and I knew he had something to do with it. He told me who she was then, that she was the daughter of the Royal Merchant. That this entire event was to help get her out of the camp.
I thought he was a fool—a boy who had been handed everything he had ever wanted his entire life, refusing to accept he couldn’t have her, too.
Little did I know what I would feel the moment I saw her.
I step further into the room, my fingers brushing against woolen blankets atop the bed. The furred comforter is soft, as soft as Lunaria’s hair looked the night I met her.
Memories of that night flood into my mind—when I was a spy for Penyth, and she was Amira Ramsey.
Agony, bright and brilliant, exploded through my chest when I first laid eyes on her. There was something different about her that I couldn’t put my finger on, a scent that piqued my interest as her fiery eyes lit into me.
That was when Adrian’s grand gesture—his insane behavior—finally made sense. This woman wasn’t just different. She was captivating. Enthralling. Maddening.
And she’s back in her chambers once again.
In the room where I would meet her before sneaking into the gardens to train.
The room outside of which I paced countless times, trying to find an excuse to be near her, only to talk myself out of it and leave before I even knocked.
The room she’s now sharing with Adrian.
My teeth grind against one another, and I press my palm against the iced-over window. I trust Lunaria—know that she doesn’t see Adrian in that way. And I trust that Adrian knows that if he touches her, I would simply remove that hand from his body.
Wind howls against the window, snapping my attention to the moonlit night sky.
I sigh and drop my hand.
Not even one night in this cesspool, and I already feel like I’m on the brink of losing my temper. Before Lu, that wasn’t something that happened often. I used to pride myself on being able to weather any storm, stay collected under any pressure—but now? I snort.
Lunaria turned my world upside down since our first meeting and has been challenging me ever since.
I attempt to ease my tumbling thoughts by taking a bath as Lu suggested—though that only leads to imagining her in there with me, covered in suds and dripping wet. It does little to quell my racing heart.
With a painful rush of heat stirring my cock, I shake my head and climb out of the tub. I towel off, walking past the full-length gold-plated mirror resting near the opening of the chambers. The smooth, reflective surface is hazy—as if it sat here uncleaned and untouched for a decade.
I have every intention to go straight to bed, but something catches my attention as I pass by the mirror. My head rears back. I glance into it. At my reflection.
The towel at my waist feels too tight—too itchy and rough and prickly against my skin.
Rough scars—new and old—mar my flesh, but what causes my breath to stall in my chest is the ink marking my body.
My nostrils flare, the reflection in the mirror doing the same. Suddenly, every pleasant memory of Lu I’ve clung to in the last few moments becomes tainted by my time in the Vale.
I can’t tear my eyes away from the snake’s head positioned just beneath my jawline, its mouth agape, forked tongue tasting the fear coating my throat. I swallow hard.
A hiss echoes in the bath chamber, and I whirl around, heart racing and palms slick with sweat. The hiss grows louder—overwhelming my senses as I spin back to the mirror.
The corners of my mouth tug down while I try to shake away the noise filling my mind. It must be memories coming back to haunt me. Of course there isn’t really a snake in here with—
All at once, the hissing stops.
Silence falls over the room like a thick, suffocating blanket.
My frown deepens as movement catches my attention in the mirror, just above my shoulder.
I step closer, my nose inches away from my own reflection.
In a flash, the tattoo marked into my skin begins to move. The snake slithers up my side, its tail flicking along my abdomen as it settles over my shoulders and wraps around my neck like a vise.
I start to jerk away, but my feet don’t listen. They stay rooted in place, keeping my face inches away from the mirror and the image of the tattoo slinking around my skin.
The snake tightens around my neck, as if my own tattoo is somehow choking me.
My lungs constrict—air stuck with no way out.
I gasp for a breath, knowing my mouth is open, but the reflection of myself in the mirror is…different.
Ice spreads across my chest.
The me in the mirror…smiles.
As I stand here, stuck and clawing at my throat, my reflection stands perfectly relaxed with a cocky grin stretched across his face.
Not real, not real, not real.
The me in the reflection chuckles, amusement sparking behind those dead eyes.
Darkness dances around the edges of my vision, and the world goes dark as I watch my reflection’s smile turn sickeningly vile.