Chapter 25
Ever
AESON’S NOT SPEAKING TO ME again, neither is his Wing, and the back-and-forth is giving me whiplash.
Take my cape . . . silence.
You’re too strong and capable . . . more silence.
Let me dry hump you in a cave ? .?.?. then SILENCE.
I’m too tired and too emotionally volatile right now to be mature about any of it.
And the bond isn’t helping anything by screaming at me to rock climb Aeson’s abs again and sit on his face for good measure.
If it would help us get off this I don’t trust you, should we kiss or fight?
merry-go-round neither one of us can figure out how to escape, I might consider it, but I have no doubt it will only make it worse.
My thoughts keep wandering to the Fae Gate and the possibility that it could be compromised.
I can’t stop wondering what I would’ve done if I’d known the truth, and I’m struggling with the fact that I’m not sure.
Maybe it’s because the gate seems fine for now and that makes the risk feel mitigated, but if it falls, if the fae invade Drameric again, it will be all my fault, and I don’t know how to reconcile that.
I also don’t understand why it’s okay for Aeson to label information classified and to be cryptic about things like the Conduit and the Fae Gate, but when I omit things or maneuver around the truth to protect the Syphons, it’s a problem.
I keep my eyes trained to the back of Aeson’s head and off the dragon-stone carvings we’re passing as we hurry through the halls of King’s Keep.
I haven’t felt any flashbacks since being back, but it’s better not to tempt fate—she’s a bitch like that.
I’m being escorted back to Aeson’s rookery, which is a point in his favor, because he could be taking me to a dungeon cell instead.
I pleaded my case to the king about the Relacour Conduit, but I can’t tell if I’m off the hook or if he simply got distracted by the fae talk and the Syphon confession and we’ll be revisiting the serious charges leveled at me today.
“Welcome home, Commander Noctis and Ever Noctis,” a robotic feminine voice chimes in greeting when we approach the rookery door.
“Shit,” Tove murmurs under her breath, and she squirms under Aeson’s pointed scowl. “I’ll change it first thing,” she announces as we all file into the rookery.
I’m not sure why that declaration bothers me, but it does. I know things are fairly fucked between us at the moment, but we’re Bonded Mates. I thought that meant something to Aeson, but what if I’ve misread that completely?
I bypass the congregating drakes in the entryway and make a beeline for my room. Thankfully, no one says a word or tries to stop me. I brush off the ache that starts in my chest at hearing everyone talking and joking now that they’re home.
Naturally, I’m once again an outsider, a pariah, but it’s no surprise.
Everyone is happy to use my sacrifices like stairs to get where they want to go, just so long as they can keep their hands clean and blame every misstep on me.
My angry steps are loud in the hallway, and I practically rip the door handle off when I storm into my room.
I’m no more than three strides in before I realize I’m not in the right place.
This isn’t the mating suite I was relegated to before.
Instead, I’ve just walked into the biggest bedroom I’ve ever seen.
A lounge area is off to my right, just like it is in my room, only this one’s even bigger, and the decorator used an array of gray, black, and light natural wood tones to complement the dragon stone and make everything feel more cozy.
A gigantic bed sits off to the left, and there’s a gorgeous open fireplace below that runs the full length of it.
Confused, I retrace my steps and double-check that I didn’t turn down the wrong hall, but it’s definitely the correct corridor. Did Aeson move my room? I go farther down the hall where there should be another door leading to Aeson’s suite, but it’s not there either.
What the fuck?
I make my way back to my bedroom door that no longer leads to my bedroom, and walk in again, like maybe the cold white room will have reappeared, but it’s still gone.
The overcast sky is framed by familiar archways that lead out to rail-less balconies.
I spin, taking the strange suite in, and my pulse picks up as something begins to dawn on me.
The room is filled with layers of textured fabrics, soft rugs, and billowing drapes.
Every surface is a lesson in luxury, and the size of it would be about right if someone tore down the wall that separates our rooms and combined them, but that makes no sense. I wasn’t gone that long, and yet?.?.?.
Cautiously, I approach a blank wall located on the far end of the colossal room.
Each step has my heart beating harder, because it can’t be.
I gasp and stumble back when a display case suddenly materializes in front of me.
There, sitting right in the middle, like the prize it truly is, is the constellation lily.
Then I eye the weapons I placed in my own cabinet in my own room before I left Four Tiers.
But what really activates my fight-or-flight are the items from Aeson’s trove placed next to mine like they belong together.
“Welcome home,” a deep, decadent voice declares, and I whirl to find Aeson standing near the open fireplace at the end of the bed, watching me.
Shock takes flight in my chest, panic clutched in its unforgiving talons, and together they begin to dive-bomb my heart.
“Where is my room?” I rasp, my mouth suddenly parched.
Just like I feared, Aeson stretches out his arms and gestures around the colossal space. “Separate rooms are only customary until a bond has been accepted,” he states matter-of-factly.
“How?.?.?. how did you do this?” I ask, my eyes flitting around in both wonder and worry. I’ve only been gone eight days.
“Magic, Ever,” he supplies, like I’m some simpleton incapable of grasping the notion.
Awe instantly morphs into annoyance, and I use the surge of irritation to help push my trepidation aside. “You expect me to stay here with you?” I demand, utterly disconcerted. “What if I don’t want to do that?”
“You’ve already accepted my bond,” he states, as though that answers my questions.
“You can barely look at me, let alone talk to me,” I counter.
He just stares at me like he doesn’t see the problem.
I growl and dig my fingers into my hair, only for them to catch on tangles almost immediately. I’m desperate for a shower and to wrap myself in Aeson’s smoky-scented cloak and pass out until the morning.
“I won’t share a room with someone who still thinks I’m the enemy,” I declare.
Aeson is in front of me in a blink, and a gasp lodges itself in my dry throat.
“Are you forgetting that you already agreed to be mine?” Aeson half whispers, half growls, and I refuse to acknowledge what that sound is doing for my more sensitive parts.
He steps closer. “You moaned it and then shouted it several times while I bounced you on my cock.” Another step.
“I’ve hunted you more than once, Ever Tenebrae, claimed you as many times, swallowed your lies, borne your betrayals, wrung orgasm after orgasm out of your sweet, dripping pussy, and now you won’t share a room with me? ”
My chest rises and falls as though it’s competing with the rapid pace of my pulse. A throb between my thighs demands my attention, and my nipples tighten with need. Aeson takes another step, and his chest just barely grazes mine as I look up into his blazing blue eyes.
Think, Ever, think! Don’t let this blue-eyed bastard beguile you!
I lift my chin even more and press my shoulders back, like the stance will lend me strength.
“You can’t even decide which head you want to think with, Aeson, but I’m supposed to share your bed?
One minute you’re cold, the next hot. Which is it?
Do you want to devour me, fuck me, ignore me, or abandon me altogether?
Because I can’t for the life of me tell. ”
His lips purse slightly, and my nipples pulse as though they’re trying to signal him and bring his mouth in for a safe landing. Aeson’s gaze blazes brighter and he presses his hard chest against mine, and I have to bite back a moan.
“That depends on you, Ever. Am I the enemy you’re intent on making me? Your mate? The person you traded yourself to for a chance at the Matron? Or am I just a means to an end? I’m not the only one who can’t make up their mind.”
His words strike true and sink into me. My mind offers several suggestions of other things he could sink into me, but first we need to be on the same page. I don’t step back, because why the fuck would I, but I pull in a deep breath and concentrate on what needs to happen here.
“We have a partial bond that’s already turning on us,” I start, and he reaches up and runs his fingers down a strand of my hair that’s escaped the mess I’ve piled on top of my head. I slap his hand away so I can think, and the smile that slips across his face is the definition of wicked.
I exhale a measured breath and look up into his gorgeous fucking face and get my shit together.
“I can’t promise to tell you everything,” I explain, my eyes searching his. “Not until it’s safe. You can either accept that or not. Accept me as I am or walk away. I can’t give you carte blanche to my secrets and my soul.”
Aeson searches my face for a moment, and then he lifts a hand and cups my jaw. At first, I think he’s going to kiss me, but then he tilts my face and leans down until his breath tickles my ear.
“I always thought one was the key to the other,” he rumbles, his breath caressing down my neck while his tone dips between my thighs. “And I’m not the kind of dragon to accept anything less than everything.”
Goose bumps crawl up my neck, racing the flush that’s already gotten a head start. Aeson steps back, his pupils blown and his jaw clenched as though it’s taking a considerable amount of force for him to put distance between us.
“What would you like to eat?” he asks out of the blue, and I stare at him for a second while his question elbows its way past my lust.
“Whatever, I’m not picky.” I shrug, and this elicits a low growl from Aeson, which I most certainly feel all over.
“Yeah, I’ve heard. Charred bugs?” he repeats with a shake of his head. “Never again, do you understand? No matter what you choose.”
My chest grows tight, and emotion swells through me. I give him a small nod, unsure why his words are garnering this reaction. I try to blink away the tears welling in my eyes, but two escape my efforts.
“No matter what you choose,” he repeats again before his thumb wipes away the tiny river of sorrow on my cheek. “You will always be protected, and this will always be home.”
I give him another nod, and then he turns to leave.
I watch him go, biting my tongue, and bitch-slapping the bond to keep from calling him back.
I’m sure if I did he’d only confuse me more.
I’ve never wanted to fight someone more in my life, but then he says things like “ this will always be home” and what makes it worse is… I believe him.