Chapter 47
By the time Acker walks into my room, it’s well into the night and my rage has returned with a vengeance. He’s dressed in plain black clothes, hair clean and pushed away from his face. The nose ring has made its return, and I hate the way my heart skips a beat at his appearance. It only serves to further fan the flames of my anger.
I finish the braid of my hair with a tie. “Beau said you wanted to take me somewhere.”
He saunters toward me, eyes holding mine in the mirror of the vanity as he leans down to kiss me. I give him my cheek, and a flash of hurt stutters across his face before he’s able to mask it.
“Everything okay?” he asks, eyes following me as I stand.
I tell myself to calm my racing heart, to not let my emotions get the best of me, but the burning sensation in my chest is damn near impossible to ignore. “No,” I say, meeting his gaze head on.
Crossing his arms, he leans his back against the armoire. “Okay. Care to elaborate on what’s changed since this morning?”
“Irina is here.”
Understanding registers on his face a moment before he dips his head in a nod. “She is.”
“That’s all you have to say? ”
“I should have told you, yes, but I didn’t find out until dinner last night. She came while I was away.”
“You were in my bed all night,” I point out.
He cocks his head to the side. “You were already angry with me. Why would I add to the list by bringing up Irina?”
Lightning burns down my arm and into my hand, and I sling it at his head. He ducks in time to miss my surge of power, and it singes the wooden front of the wardrobe, smoke billowing from the impact. Shock turns to fury as Acker levels his gaze on me. Satisfaction fills my veins knowing he feels an inkling of the fury I’ve been fighting with all day. I let my power settle in my palm, readying another throw, hand igniting in a yellow glow.
“Jovie,” he warns.
Ignoring him, I fling the hot ball of light at him again. It’s a narrow miss, but it snaps Acker’s control and he storms toward me, eyes hard and furious. He grabs me by the neck, and I rise onto my toes in a bid to stop him from cutting off my air supply. It’s a reminder of how much stronger and deadlier he is than I am.
“Use your magic on me again and I’ll take it as an invitation to do the same.”
My hold around his wrist scorches from the magic still burning through me. “You can’t kill me. You swore a blood oath.”
His smile is dry as he walks me backward to the edge of the bed. The gold filigree adorning the foot of the frame detaches and wraps around my ankles, causing me to fall onto my butt on the bed. With ease, he removes the grip I have on his arm and holds mine to the duvet, tying my wrists to my knees with the winding vine of filigree.
My chest rises and falls on tight breaths. Bracing closed fists on either side of my thighs, he leans back just enough to examine his work, eyes scoring down my restrained body. My neck and cheeks burn with humiliation. Well, that and other things I refuse to give credence to.
His eyes linger on the tinted skin, lashes flicking up as he meets my gaze directly. There’s no mistaking the heat in his eyes. “Let’s get something straight,” he says, jaw ticking as his attention falls to my mouth for a brief second. “I will not hurt you.” He darts a look over my bound body. “Ever. Not because of a blood oath I made out of necessity, but because I don’t want to.”
The last few words send my heart into the base of my throat. “Untie me,” I demand, voice coming out weaker than I’d like.
“No.” He leans in closer, eyes flitting to my mouth again, breaths converging in the space between. “Not until you’re reasonable,” he says.
I try to pull away, but he stops me with a hand on the crux of my neck. It tilts my head in the perfect angle for him to access my mouth.
My lips brush his when I speak. “And who determines that? You?”
“I don’t see anyone else in the room.” Teasing a kiss, he places his open mouth against mine, tongue wet against my bottom lip.
I squeeze my eyes shut, hoping the lack of senses will dull the desire muddling my brain, but it doesn’t work. If anything, it narrows my focus to the heat of his mouth, the taste of his tongue as I meet it with my own, the groan that vibrates into me when he dips it inside. While the kissing from last night was nice and lace with heat, all of those combined pale in comparison to the desire of this one. I realize he was holding back as he devours my mouth with his own.
I take the opening, sinking my teeth down and nipping the tip of his tongue before he can fully retreat. He jerks back. Touching a finger to his tongue, he inspects the blood on the pad of his finger, eyes snapping to me.
“Oh, did I hurt you?” Condescension drips from my voice, my tone dry as I smile. “You should just get over it so we don’t ruin the night.”
He stares at me for a long beat then turns away, shaking his head. A humorless laugh escapes him as he stares at the ground, contemplating, maybe actually acknowledging his hypocrisy.
He waves a hand toward my bound wrists and ankles. “I should have learned my lesson the first time.” The filigree unwinds itself like a snake, slithering across the wooden frame and nestling back into place. “Listen,” he says, face serious when he looks up. “A friend is supposed to meet us in the city.”
I’m seething, but…his sudden shift in demeanor has me wavering. Frustration still lingers behind his eyes, but whatever plans he’s made are important, crucial enough to table the conversation. Moreover, I can’t turn down the chance to venture into the city.
I slide from the edge of the bed and retrieve the cloak Beau brought me from the wardrobe. “You owe me,” I warn, throwing the garment over my shoulders.
I attempt to move around him and toward the door, but he steps into my path, stopping and forcing me to look at him .
“For what it’s worth, I apologize for not telling you as soon as I found out.” His throat bobs as he swallows, guard seemingly falling.
Then I’m staring at the Acker I’ve grown to care for after all our time together, the one I’ve spent countless hours doing nothing yet everything with before I knew he was my match or knew our futures would forever be intertwined. The man I call my friend stands before me.
His movements are careful, slow as he reaches behind me to pull the hood over my hair, tucking my braid behind my shoulder. “I didn’t think it was a big deal.”
“How could you not?”
A smile quirks at the corner of his mouth like he finds me cute. “I didn’t think you’d care,” he says, running a curved finger along my jaw. “But jealousy looks good on you.”
I know my colored skin gives away more than I’d like, but there’s no avoiding it. “We don’t want to keep your friend waiting.”
His smile comes out in full force as he moves away and to the door. He opens it, eyes locked on me as I walk toward him, and he leans in to whisper in my ear. “We’ll finish this conversation later.”
My face reddens at the heated insinuation, fighting the smile wanting to pull at the corners of my mouth. But all of those thoughts come to a screaming halt at the pointed gaze I feel coming from the soldier stationed to the right of my door.
Acker acknowledges them with a nod, and he hides his wandering eyes from his prince’s view. As we begin our departure down the hall, I try to convince myself to ignore it, but Beau’s insistence that I tell Acker niggles in the back of my mind .
“I don’t like the way the one on the right looks at me,” I say, voice low.
Acker slows, eyes becoming sharp despite the smile on his face. “Yeah?” He doesn’t wait for a response as he pivots in place. He looks at the soldier in question. “You’re dismissed.”
A moment of shock makes the soldier’s jaw drop, but it doesn’t take long for righteous indignation to redden his features. His fellow comrade keeps his eyes averted, not wanting to be caught in the crossfire.
We’re turning to resume our walk when the muttered insult hits our ears. “ Fucking brat. ”
Acker goes stock-still, and I know there’s nothing I can do to stop whatever is about to happen.
Stalking back toward the soldier, Acker says, “Repeat that.”
The man struggles to control his bluster, face losing all its color as Acker nears. He shakes his head. “I-I’m sor—”
Before he can finish his apology, Acker lifts a hand and catches a projectile from the soldier’s mouth. The soldier howls, hands going to the offending orifice on his face, sticking his fingers inside. Acker drops the tooth to the polished floor, iron capped and bloody.
“Turn in your uniform and weapons to the infirmary first thing in the morning.” Then Acker looks at the remaining soldier and says, “Find a replacement of your choosing before we get back. I suggest you choose wisely.”
The soldier nods with terrified enthusiasm, vacating his position and hurrying down the hall.
I lift a brow at Acker but don’t speak. The palace is quiet. The few people we pass are maidservants. They react differently with Acker at my side, less afraid, more open. I think one girl even smiles at me.
A carriage awaits beyond the steps of the front entrance. It’s nondescript and black, as are the horses. The coachman greets us with a nod, holding a hand out to help me into the vehicle, but Acker waves him away, ushering me in instead.
“To the blacksmith, Harold,” he says. “Thank you.”
The man gives him a small bow. “My pleasure, your highness.”
The inside of the carriage is sleek, wood polished to a shine, seat velvety smooth. There’s just enough room for Acker to fold his height into the opposite seat, bracketing my legs with his own.
“Brace yourself, princess,” the coachman yells as he urges the horses forward and we start with a jerk.
I take hold of a handle carved into the side of the door. “They’re much nicer when you’re around,” I say.
Acker scoffs, leaning against the bench in an effort to get comfortable. “Have you already forgotten the incident in the hallway?”
“Other than him,” I clarify. “His problem was he was a little too brave.”
“I had a lieutenant tell me being brave and being stupid are the same.” He tilts his head in thought. “But that’s another reason I want you to come to training in the morning.”
“To see us together?”
“No,” he says, body swaying with the jumpy movements of the carriage. “To remind them of who you are: the lost princess of Maile. Being a light wielder doesn’t change that.”
“Why would your people care about who I am? ”
“Our betrothal was considered the last and final step of putting the war to rest between our territories.” He continues to shuffle to get comfortable in the small space. “We were celebrated as a promise of peace.”
“But that all ended with my abduction,” I say.
He nods. “Your mother became increasingly hostile, to the point she began accusing the conclave of conspiring together to abduct you. Said my father was keeping you locked in the dungeons.” He smiles to himself. It’s obvious there’s a fondness for my mother in his words, a sort of wonder in his eyes after all this time. “Almost had me convinced too. I went and checked to see for myself.”
“The conclave?”
“The leaders of the five territories. They meet once a year in a bid to uphold an accord across the land. Well, everyone but Chryse and your mother. She closed the border to Maile after killing Osiris, and no one has seen her since.” He holds my stare, eyes dark and seductive in the darkness of the carriage. “Your return is a reminder of a time of peace and prosperity, Jovie, and my people need it.”