Chapter 25
JO
I had hoped I was wrong, that he hadn’t been spying on me without my knowledge.
But here he is. Appearing at the foot of my bed well after midnight.
Collar of his shirt pulled open, hair messed, feet bare.
It’s nearly the exact image of him from our time together on the boat that I’ve reminisced about.
Without inhibitions or influence from the outside world.
His expression is tempered, but his voice holds the weight of every emotion coursing through my own body. “Jovie.”
It’s been years since I’ve heard the moniker outside my dreams, and it sends chills down my spine.
Nobody calls me by that name. Ever.
But it was never only a name with him. It felt like more. Like a claim.
I don’t so much as blink, refusing to let on that the heat threatening to bloom across my face is due to anything other than the anger I’ve been harboring all day.
The light from the oil lamp beside my bed flickers.
I drop the spare string of mangi stones next to it before lifting the teacup and taking a sip with forced casualness.
It’s the perfect temperature. I take a moment to relish the steeped spices as I swallow.
It’s a far cry from the bitter taste of the sleep tonic I’ve become accustomed to.
I set the cup back down before giving him my full attention. “How long have you been watching me?”
He tilts his head thoughtfully, gaze heavy as he holds my stare. “I think you already have an idea.”
The oath protects me from physical harm, but it seems emotional torture is fair game. All the dreams I’ve been desperate to escape, the ones I wake from with my heart pounding in my throat. Sometimes from fear, sometimes in pleasure, and all too real. Both equally as painful.
There’s no telling which dreams were possibly influenced by his presence or the workings of my own mind, but they started not long after I arrived in Maile.
One in particular, however, stands out more than the others.
The most recent one from my time at the border.
When I thought I awoke to a Strou warrior, only to be convinced otherwise in my drowsy state of mind when Acker appeared.
And, with a stunning realization that I … I begged for him to stay.
Humiliation burns through me, scorching my cheeks.
While I expected the anger, I was not expecting the tears that sting at the corners of my eyes.
I jerk my gaze away from him as I move from the bed, trying to hide the emotion on my face as I tighten the cinch of my robe, willing the gathering moisture to dry as I face the doors leading to the terrace.
All of this time, I’ve accepted his hurtful actions as if they were fair payment in return for my own.
Marrying Irina, relishing my misery on their wedding night, ordering the Strou to attack our border.
Transgressions I believed that would finally equal my own and we could call it even.
But this feels like the tipping point. The remorse I’ve been carrying for my actions in Kenta dissolves into nothing, and all it leaves behind is burning resentment.
I’m done longing for someone who only despises me.
I turn and find him leaning against the foot of my bed, hands in his pockets as he watches me.
“I’ll have Drake escort you and Irina back to your ship in the morning, but you’re no longer welcome here.
” I finger the gyve around my throat, realizing it’ll need more revisions.
Something stronger to withstand Acker’s ability to somehow overcome them to bridge the gap in the Bond. “Invited or otherwise,” I clarify.
His gaze hesitates on where I toy with the string of mangi that disappears beneath the cut of my robe before returning to my eyes. “You became queen, so that makes your word law, does it?”
I cock a brow. “Last time I checked.”
He makes a noise in the back of his throat and it’s as if the vibration cuts straight through me.
Pushing off the foot of the bed, he moves closer, steps measured and precise.
I hold my ground, refusing to give him the satisfaction of making me retreat, my head tipping to maintain direct eye contact.
“Then why’d you let me into your city?” he asks, voice low in the still night air.
“You could have killed me on the wharf, sent me back to my ship. You knew I would never ask for personal sanctuary. Unless you thought I came here for you.” His gaze dips to my mouth before flicking back up to my eyes.
“Is that it? You were hoping I’d finally come for you? ”
“I thought—” I swallow to soothe the rasp in my voice, letting my eyes convey my distaste. “You must truly be desperate.”
He’s unmoved by my change in demeanor. If anything, he seems to become more motivated to prove me wrong.
“I can feel you, you know?” He wets his lips, eyes lazy as they drip down the front of my body, as if he can see straight through the material of my robe.
It’s a blatant and salacious look meant to knock me off-kilter. “I know when you’re lying.”
“Oh, now you can tell?”
“When it comes to your desire, Jovie…” He smirks, something dark and devious that makes me nervous. “There’s no denying the truth.”
Godsdamn him.
Inside I’m quaking. Being this near to him is borderline euphoric.
His eyes feel like the weight of a thousand suns as they hold steady on mine.
The tether steadily urging us to get closer.
I could touch him if I wanted to, reach out and skim my fingers over his jaw, his mouth. Kiss him if I wanted to.
Which I don’t …
His grin grows, snapping me from my torrid thoughts.
I close the little distance between us, nothing more than a finger’s width separating the two of us. “Or,” I say, “You feel what I want you to feel.”
“Really?” He reaches a hand up; the movement is slow as he tucks a stray hair behind my ear.
“Like all those times you sucked my tongue into your mouth,” he purrs.
“Or when you clung to me as I entered you.” There’s no teasing glint in his eyes, just need reflected back at me as his lips hover over mine. “Or those times you came on my cock—”
“You think I fucked you because I wanted to?” I shake my head, forcing a small smile playing on my lips. “I needed to accept the Matching Bond, or risk myself by denying it. I don’t want you. I never wanted you.”
He stills, dark eyes unwavering as he looks down at me. “And how well did that work out for you?” he asks, eyes on the stones around my neck.
I sneer at him. Mostly because I hate that he’s right. I thought accepting the Bond would mean I’d have control over my own mind and my body, but I’m still having to fight the pull of the tether every waking moment of every day. And apparently when I’m sleeping as well.
Seemingly satisfied by seeing his blow land, his expression shifts, and he looks entirely unbothered again in the blink of an eye. His shoulders lose their tension as he takes a step back. “Whatever you bargained for in exchange for providing aid to Roison’s side in this war, I’ll pay tenfold.”
I’m taken aback by the sudden shift in conversation but manage to paste on a placid expression of my own. “You can’t afford what I want.”
“Try me,” he says.
The challenge in his voice touches something inside of me. Something dangerous and indulgent, and by the way he’s fighting a smile, it was likely his intention.
A knock on my door cuts through the tension.
Acker’s expression shutters. “Expecting someone?”
Unease settles in my stomach as I slowly move around him toward the door.
Acker spits my name as I pass, but I ignore him.
Picking up the extra necklace I left on my bedside table, I slide the stones on top of the gyve.
Acker’s voice gets swallowed by their weight, and when I turn around, he’s gone.
I let out a breath, but there’s no relief to be found.
The knock comes again. I add one more extra layer of mangi before I walk over to open my bedroom door, but I’m surprised by who is standing on the other side.
“I sent for Drake,” I say, confused.
Fredrich nods, face solemn. “I know.”
I lean around him to check the hallway, ensuring it’s empty, that Beau’s door is closed, before motioning him in. “Is everything okay? Drake? The armada?”
“Yes, everything is fine,” Fredrich says, eyes roaming around the room once, efficient as ever, before coming back to me. “I just couldn’t let a man walk blindly to his death.”
Death? “You think I summoned Drake to my bedchambers to kill him?” I ask, dumbfounded.
“What you were seeking from him would unequivocally sign his death warrant.”
Realization dawns, my cheeks burning as I hold Fredrick’s gaze. “Who told you?”
“Sailors talk, Jovinnia.”
Crossing my arms over my chest, I’m immediately on the defensive. “It’s not as if my Match would have ever known I’d taken another to bed, if that’s your concern.”
Fredrich’s mouth thins, his expression conveying exactly how dense he thinks I’m being.
Frustration drives me to cuss as I stalk away from him, back toward my bed.
The tears are back with a vengeance. I just want these …
these … overwhelming emotions to end. I keep waiting to reach the bottom of the well, for my heartache and anger and frustration to run dry, but my conversation with Acker has solidified the truth—it won’t end until I make it end.
I’m done hating myself for something I can’t change, for a man who doesn’t love me.
Pushing past my embarrassment, I untie my robe, letting the material slip down my shoulders and to the ground as I turn to face Fredrich. His eyes dip to my body only briefly, but the glance is intense enough to heat straight through the sheer slip I’m wearing.
He reaches for the sword strapped to his waist. “Are you sure?” he asks in responds to my unvoiced words.
Not in the least.
“Yes.”