Chapter Nineteen
Haide
“Seriously, Legend,” I protest. “You can put me down, you know. My legs work.”
His grip tightens, his chest rumbling. “No.”
“You’re annoying,” I mutter, but the word comes out softer than intended. My body has apparently decided his chest is the most comfortable place it’s ever been. I blame the lack of airflow to my brain in the moments before he appeared.
His room is all shadowed stone walls broken by narrow windows. Weapons hang from the far wall—swords, axes, blades shaped like they were made for tearing souls instead of skin. Above the bed, a map of Rathe burns softly with shifting lines of light, alive with movement I don’t understand.
“Why do you have weapons if you don’t fight with your hands?” I ask, almost sighing as he lowers me onto a bed of feathers, black silk surrounding me from head to toe.
He handles me with care that would be insulting if my ribs didn’t still feel like they’d been kicked in by a particularly enthusiastic dragon.
“Just because you’ve never seen me feed my fist to a man in full combat doesn’t mean I’m not well-versed,” he boasts. “You think otherwise, but I could very easily hold my own to you, little monster.”
A bratty hum leaves me because no—I do not believe him. I would kick his royal ass in a magicless fight.
Legend smirks and shifts closer, so I push up on my elbows.
“Okay, we had our little kidnapping adventure, fun times, now take me back.”
“Later.” He straightens, eyes sweeping over me, cataloguing every injury and place another’s magic touched my skin. He hates it. His jaw flexes. “You’re bleeding.”
“I’ve bled worse,” I say, but my voice comes out a little thinner than I’d like. The room tilts sideways when I try to sit up.
His hand lands flat on my sternum, gentle but unmovable, pressing me back into the mattress. “You’re staying here until you rest.”
I glare up at him. “You don’t get to decide that.”
“I get to decide everything,” he counters. “I’m your King.”
“I’m going to slap you.”
Legend chuckles, but goes silent a moment later, eyes not leaving my face. “Lie down, Haide.”
Something in his tone, low and edged, slides along a part of me that isn’t interested in arguing.. I sink back, hissing when a bruised patch along my spine protests, and he curses under his breath.
“Stay,” he orders, like I’m a particularly troublesome dragon pup.
“Not a pet,” I grumble.
A basin full of steaming water magically appears. The surface shimmers with the telltale sheen of a healer’s magic.
A bitterness coats my tongue.
If I were a real gifted, I would heal on my own with time.
Legend wrings out a cloth and climbs onto the bed with focus that screams I’m currently the center of his kingdom. I swear I can feel the satisfaction rolling off him and into me. Not because I’m “hurt,” but because he gets to heal me.
It’s way too fucking much.
“Legend,” I warn as he braces one knee by my hip.
“Relax,” he murmurs, leaning over me. “I’m just cleaning you up. No big scheme here.”
The cloth touches my cheek, cool against skin that feels too hot. His hand cups the side of my face, thumb stroking once, slow and soothing, as if he’s taming a skittish creature instead of a girl who can kill like a beast.
“I am not a weak doll that needs caring for. I don’t need you.”
“I need to do this; and you’re going to let me,” he says quietly.
The words land with more weight than they should, and my throat tightens.
He must be bewitching me or something. Slipped some herbal drug into that water or the air because this girl who lies back and lets someone else in—she’s not me.
She can’t be me.
To want is to lose, Haide. To need is to die.
He works in silence, wiping away blood and dirt, following the line of my jaw to my neck, my collarbone, and the exposed stretch of my stomach where my shirt has ridden up.
“Your eyes are turning white,” I mutter, and those eyes, swimming with royal magic, snap up to mine, sending a jolt straight down my spine.
“My mate is in my hands,” he says simply.
“You’re delusional.”
“And you’re beautiful.” He says it with the same quiet certainty he uses when issuing orders, as if it’s an undeniable fact of the universe. As if the sky is violet, dragons breathe fire, and I am beautiful.
Beauty has never meant a damn thing to me. I’d never even seen myself outside of a reflection in the water or a puddle of rain until he locked me up in Rathe. I liked what I saw, but beauty?
Not sure I understand what that is.
He cocks his head. “You don’t believe me?”
“I mean, I’d fuck me.”
Legend throws his head back with a laugh, and my muscles relax instantly.
He finishes with the cloth and tosses it aside, fingers lingering at the edge of my shirt. “Lift.”
I arch a brow. “Did that sound like an invitation?” It totally can be, but I might need the gash on my neck healed first. Could make a real mess if things get too fun.
“Your ribs,” he reminds me, though his mouth curves. “Let me see.”
Rolling my eyes for show, I help him peel the fabric up. Dark bruises bloom across my side, ugly and impressive. I’m not sure I realized magic could even do that.
Legend’s expression goes thunderous at the sight.
“I will kill them,” he says softly, like he’s discussing the change in tide. “Slowly. Painfully. Publicly.”
“Already unconscious, mighty king. Don’t go pissing off more people because of me. I do that enough on my own without your help.”
“It’s non-negotiable, little monster. They will die, but I hear you. I’ll find other ways to make them regret what they’ve done, and just when they start to feel safe again, I will end them. Slowly.” He drags his knuckles lightly along an unmarked patch of skin as if that can erase what’s beneath.
The touch is featherlight, but everything in me goes tight, breath locking in my chest. His eyes catch mine, and something heavy settles between us. It’s thick, electric. It’s familiar.
The thing that might be between us—that pull I refuse to dignify by calling it anything else—flares, hot and bright, threading from my chest to his. My fingers curl into the sheets to keep from reaching for him first.
“Legend.”
“Yes?” His hand slides higher, palm flattening just beneath my ribs, pinning me with no effort at all.
“This doesn’t feel very ‘rest and recover.’”
“Disagree.” His mouth lowers, brushing the corner of mine. “You relax best when you’re beneath me.”
“Cocky,” I breathe, but my lips are already tilting toward his.
“Confident.” His smile ghosts against my mouth. “Let me take care of you,” he repeats. Something inside me that’s been braced for impact since the moment I arrived in Rathe…eases.
I let him.
He kisses me slow, nothing like the frantic, teeth-and-claw kind of contact we’ve had before.
His tongue traces the cut on my lip as if trying to soothe it from the inside.
His hand slides to cradle the back of my head, holding me in place like I’m something precious instead of a weapon that keeps accidentally going off.
When I sigh into him, the sound is embarrassingly soft, and he swallows it like it’s his favorite thing he’s ever been given.
His weight settles more fully over mine, careful not to crush, but solid enough that I can feel every inch of him. He’s all heat and strength. His pulse beats against me like a wild drum. My fingers find his shoulders, then his hair, dragging him closer.
“Tell me if it’s too much. Tell me if—”
“Shut up,” I mutter, dragging him back down. “If you stop now, I’ll stab you.”
He laughs into the kiss, the sound low and unrestrained, and then there’s nothing but dizzying pleasure that has my body forgetting any pain. He removes my knife from my boot. I wait for my defenses to kick in and demand I fight back. Protect myself.
It never comes.
My chin lifts and my limbs spread wide of their own accord. He doesn’t hesitate, chest rumbling as he slices his way up through my clothes, leaving them to fall open around us.
My boots stay on and nothing else.
The weight of him settles fully between my thighs, and I inhale sharply, hips lifting before I can stop myself. His answering groan vibrates against my lips, rough and hungry. He kisses down my jaw, the scrape of his teeth dragging a shiver straight through me.
“I should have been there,” he rasps, his cock sliding deep inside me. “You shouldn’t have been alone.” He pulls out, pushing in again, even slower this time.
My back bows and he leans down, licking across my chest.
“I can’t stand being away from you, little monster.” His hips roll and my nails dig into his back. “You’re mine, Haide. Mine to protect, and I failed you tonight.”
“Legend,” I warn, body already trembling.
Why does the tone he’s using make me ache?
This is supposed to be sex. Raw.
Reckless.
It’s…I don’t know what it is but I need it to stop.
I need it to stop, yet my fingers curl into his shoulders, drawing him closer, guiding without words.
And the second I do, his mouth crashes into mine again in a kiss that’s sure to split my lip back open.
His hands slide under me, lifting my hips into his, and the soft drag of friction steals every coherent thought I have left.
Still, he fucks me slow and steady, and it’s the sweetest fucking torture.
“I’m going to come inside you now,” he whispers, lips lifting when he feels my pulse start to pulse. “And you’re going to come all over my cock at the same time, ain’t that right, baby?”
“Shut up.”
“Come.”
It’s like he’s speaking in command and my body decides to obey.
I come hard. Long, and his eyes eat up the sight.
After a few minutes, he pulls out and falls onto the bed beside me.
I pull in a deep breath, letting it out slowly. Sweat cools my skin, my muscles now loose in that rare, floating way that only comes from a good orgasm.
Guess Legend was right.
My head lolls to the side, spotting the faint smear of blood on his lip where I bit him a little harder than necessary.
“Oops,” I say, not sorry at all.
His thumb swipes the red away and he grins in a satisfied way that makes my stomach do something stupid. “My favorite kind of wound.”
“Pervert.”
“Your perv,” he counters, voice already thick with oncoming sleep.
The last thing I remember before the dark takes me is the weight of his arm banded around my waist, the steady rise and fall of his chest at my back, and the strange, terrifying comfort of knowing that if anything tried to touch me in this moment, he’d burn the world for it.
When I wake, the room is dim.
My head feels clearer and my body less like someone’s favorite punching bag, though dull aches still whisper from my ribs and shoulders.
Legend is a heavy warmth at my back, his arm still slung over my waist, hand splayed against my stomach. For a second, I let myself stay there, eyes closed, breathing with him.
Eventually, reality slaps me upside the head.
I wriggle carefully out from under his arm, easing his hand onto the mattress. He makes a low sound, a protest threaded with confusion, but doesn’t wake fully. I slide off the bed, wincing when my feet hit the cold floor, and steal his shirt off the ground.
Just as I reach for my boots, a rough voice rasps behind me.
“Where do you think you’re going, little monster?”
I glance back to find his eyes locked on the hem of his shirt, brushing against my thighs.
He sits up, sheets pooling around his hips, hair a mess and eyes shadowed. He’s paler than normal and his under eyes look bruised. They might just be, I didn’t exactly see all the damage he did yesterday.
He looks like he’s been trampled by a pack of Lycans and then dragged behind for good measure.
“Back,” I say, straightening slowly. “To the university. The place where I live now, remember?”
“No.” His answer is immediate, flat. “You’re staying here.”
I cross my arms, ignoring the way the movement tugs at bruises. “I said take me back.”
He studies me, gaze moving from the set of my jaw to the stubborn line of my shoulders, and something darker than usual flares in his eyes.
“I will burn that place to the ground if anyone even thinks about hurting you again,” he says, voice low and lethal.
“I’ll kill every gifted in that place if I have to.
Then I’ll come back here and kill the ones who gave them their names.
That can’t happen, so I can’t send you back. ”
“You don’t have a choice, Legend,” I remind him. “You stood before your people and claimed me as your queen—still fucking ridiculous, by the way. But you did that. That was your premature ass half-cocked decision.”
“You are my mate, Haide. That makes you a queen.”
“If you don’t send me back, you make me look weak.” I ignore his statement. “I will look like I’m hiding or afraid. And I will not fucking hide and I am not fucking afraid.”
“Haide—”
“I think Creed was right and I might have powers,” I cut in, the words tumbling out before I can second-guess them.
That pulls him up short.
“I don’t know for sure, or what I could be able to do, but I need to figure it out,” I speak slowly but firmly, hoping it’ll get through that thick skull.
“I can’t do that if I’m tucked away here like some little trophy.
I’m not, Legend. If those assholes didn’t have the jump on me, I could have beat them with my hands alone. Imagine if I could do more.”
Slowly, satisfaction curls at the edges of his mouth, tempered by a pride so fierce it steals my breath more than once. He swings his legs over the side of the bed, standing despite the way the motion nearly sways him.
He crosses the space between us, stopping close enough that I have to tip my chin back to keep our eyes locked. His knuckles graze along my cheek so gently it almost undoes me more than anything that happened last night.
“Okay,” he says, voice rough but sure. “Okay, little mate, but I will be watching.”
The word digs into my chest, sharp and sweet, and I pretend it doesn’t.
He takes my wrist and leads me back to The Royal Gateway we entered through.
He reaches for it without hesitation, palm closing around a jagged, golden thorn along the door’s frame. It slices deep into the flesh below his thumb. Blood wells, and he drags it across the center of the door in a slow, deliberate line.
The stone shudders.
The sigils flare, lighting up one by one, following the stroke of his hand until the entire surface glows with blinding radiance. A crack splits down the middle, widening, the air rippling with heat and the metallic tang of portal magic.
A gateway opens.
He releases my hand and steps back. “I’ll see you soon.”
I nod, moving closer, and just before I step through, Legend asks,
“What did you mean when you said you think Creed is right? What did he say?”
Shit.
“He said maybe I had real power. That I should behave while I’m here and figure out if I do.”
“Is that all my brother said?”
“That’s it,” I lie.
Legend studies me for a long moment before finally nodding. “Okay.”
“Okay.” I turn and step through the portal.
If they’re going to come at me, let them come.