Chapter 11 Ellowyn
Chapter Eleven
Ellowyn
The lavender-scented steam from my impossibly hot bath cascaded in lazy tendrils from the open bathroom door into the gaudy bedroom.
I’d avoided the scent for so long, not wanting to be reminded of what I’d lost when I was taken from Hestin.
But now that I’d closed the door on the relationship with the people who raised me, I could simply enjoy the fragrance for what it was: a relaxing aroma.
I padded quietly across the room, towel clutched to my chest as my long hair, dark and wet from my bath, stuck to my exposed back.
I’d washed quickly yet thoroughly, the water turning a shade of brown so dark that it was nearly black from the ash and bodily fluids that clung to my skin and hair.
I’d drained the tub twice before deciding to wash my hair under the running spigot.
The myriad of foul things that matted the strands of my hair together would have disgusted me in another life. Now, though, I was grateful that I was even here, even alive, to wash my hair.
So many others were not.
In flashes that burned the back of my eyelids, I saw hundreds die again as I relived the battle.
The worst was the memory of Tine’s death.
My breath froze in my chest, movements stuttering as images of Tine lying motionless on the ground with a hole the size of a fist in his chest, Talamh slumped over his form, keening for the gods to bring his brother back.
I shook my head, forcibly banishing the images back to the deepest, darkest parts of my mind where they could be dissected and processed later.
Or never.
Peytor avoided eye contact with me as I walked toward the ostentatiously carved espresso wood armoire that dominated the wall opposite the bathroom, choosing instead to fix his gaze somewhere on the equally ostentatious ceiling.
“Who designed this place,” I grumbled, already annoyed with whichever lord or lady thought that gold filigree over everything was a wise design choice.
“The Lord of Lishahl’s third—” Torin began, but Peytor cut him off.
“I think it’s his fourth wife. Didn’t the third like that powder blue?”
“Oh, maybe you’re right. I thought that was his second wife?”
“No, the second wife was emerald green. Something about a certain Mage’s eyes . . .”
“Probably why that wife didn’t last long if she was thinking about a different Mage’s eyes,” Torin chuckled.
“Hmm. Yes. None of them seem to last very long, do they? I wonder what the fifth wife will prefer. They’ve almost run through the rainbow.”
I stared, mouth slightly agape, as water dripped from the ends of my hair to puddle on the stone floor around my feet.
“Close your mouth, Ellowyn. No one wants to see your throat,” Peytor chided, adopting Mother’s imperious tone.
I chuffed a laugh even as a sense of unease grew at the thought of our parents.
At some point, I’d have to tell him they were kept beneath the manor in Vespera and explain their many crimes.
I held little doubt that it would shatter his illusion of them completely.
Peytor had a much different relationship with our parents than I, and I didn’t relish destroying that love.
My brother was good and deserving of love, even if our parents weren’t.
“I don’t mind, actually,” Torin said, and I frowned slightly, thinking he was reading my thoughts, but quickly ducked my head into the armoire when I heard Peytor gagging.
“That’s disgusting. Please keep those comments to yourself or save them for when you’re alone with my sister. Godsdammit, Torin.”
“How old are you, Peytor? And haven’t you also stuck your dick down someone’s throat before?”
Now it was my turn to gag as I reached for whatever article of clothing brushed my hand first. An idea sprang to mind as I half-heartedly listened to their banter that carefully disguised both of their uneasiness.
“Peytor,” I called, instantly silencing their riveting conversation. “Please leave.”
“If this is heading the direction I think . . . gladly.” He breathed a heavy, relieved breath before his boots shuffled across the floor, the door opening and closing in quick succession.
Silence descended, apart from Torin’s labored breaths, and my heart banged against my sternum.
I peeked my head around the door of the armoire just enough to see Torin’s eyes completely focused on me.
Good.
“What are you doing, sweetheart?” he asked.
The nickname and his unwavering attention shouldn’t have sent shivers of heat across my skin and through my blood, not with the anger I still clung to over his actions before all went to shit in Vespera.
Alas, my body—and my heart—didn’t agree with my mind; he was still Torin, my Torin, and it was inevitable I would forgive him.
But that didn’t mean I couldn’t torture him a bit first.
With that thought, I stepped away from the wall, leaving the unidentified article of clothing hanging in the armoire. I wouldn’t need it for what came next.
I held Torin’s heated amber gaze with my own, begging him to see the flitting of betrayal and displeasure as well as the love and devotion.
A muscle in his jaw flexed and bounced as he ground his teeth together, whether in frustration or anticipation, I was unsure.
I shivered under his attention, my skin prickling with goosebumps of awareness, despite the humid heat still emanating from the bathroom as his gaze raked across the tops of my breasts and exposed collarbone.
Angry, I’m supposed to be angry with him.
But the longer I watched Torin stare at me, the more my frustrations evaporated.
Heat prickled against my skin, and my eyes flung to a small flame in Torin’s palm that extinguished just as quickly as it ignited, leaving my hair dry. Torin flashed a lazy, carnal smile.
We can’t have that. Punish him.
A wicked grin spread across my face as I opened my arms and let the towel still clinging to my damp skin fall to the ground with a wet thump.
I watched every minuscule reaction to my stunt and preened at the open, raw desire I saw swirling within his dark depths. His eyes widened before his pupils followed, blowing wide in lust as he tracked every bare inch of me.
Hands on my hips, I bared my body to him, let him drink his fill, before turning slowly on my heel and walking back to the armoire. I felt Torin’s heated stare on my ass as I retreated and bent over farther than necessary to retrieve the random garment hanging in the dark depths.
His feet shuffled against stone, the sound preceding the warmth from his body encasing my own as his scent overwhelmed me.
It was simultaneously like coming home while also making me homesick; it was a weird dichotomous feeling that I was hoping would abate once we worked out our issues and grievances.
Well, my issues. It was clear Torin did not possess the same frustrations as me, if his labored breathing was any indicator.
“Oh no you don’t,” he growled as I pulled what I now recognized as a hideous red velvet dress from the armoire. The dress instantly turned to ash in my hands. Secretly, I was thankful that I wouldn’t have to wear that monstrosity.
“That was rude,” I said to Torin, trying to push as much authority and ice in my voice as I could, but it came out more breathy than I anticipated.
“What’s rude is you standing here, naked, your skin begging for my touch,” he growled. My pale skin flushed, but my eyes remained hard.
“You can’t just order people about and expect them to follow you to whatever end,” I bit.
Torin’s smile was dark and full of authority. “That is where you are wrong, Queen d’Refan,” he spat the name at me, and I raised my eyebrows in both outrage and surprise. “You’ll find that my word, my command, means everything here to these people. My word is the law. I say, they do.”
I wrinkled my nose at him. “The whole despotic maniac persona does not sit well on you, Torin.”
“The command, the power, the authority doesn’t do it for you, Ellowyn?”
I scoffed even though the thought of him ordering me around sent a shot of heat straight between my legs, causing my clit to throb in anticipation.
“No,” I said, steely determination in my voice as I took a step closer to him. I could see the outline of his erection through his loose pants. My hand darted out to grasp him quicker than I could blink. He hissed both at the contact and the punishing pressure of my grip.
I inched closer until my nipples brushed his tunic, both of our chests rising and falling rapidly in arousal.
“Let’s get one thing straight, Torin,” I whispered, my lips even with his chin.
His usual scruff had progressed into a full beard, the hue of it a myriad of browns and blondes glinting in the low light.
“I am no longer Queen d’Refan as you so desire to throw in my face.
There is no ring, there was no relationship, and, even if there was, let me remind you that you abandoned me.
I had to do what was necessary to save myself and my family,” I hissed, squeezing tighter as each word reawakened a deep-seated hurt.
“No one controls me but me. No one gives me orders. If you want me to stand beside you, then you will treat me as your equal in everything. Your secrets, your inner thoughts, your history, your very soul, are mine, Torin d’Eshu.
I will be no one’s second choice, no one’s damsel in distress, and certainly no one’s pawn.
” I yanked on his cock, drawing it toward me and eliciting a groan from deep within Torin’s chest.
His eyes fluttered closed as one palm came up to cup my cheek, his calloused thumb stroking delicately over my soft skin.
“Do. You. Understand?” I ground out, wanting his confirmation before I fell completely under his spell once more.
“Oh, Ellowyn. It’s you who doesn’t understand,” he rasped, his full lips brushing lightly against my forehead with each word. My body relaxed into his as if pulled by some invisible force.
“What don’t I understand?” I grumbled, fighting to maintain the hold on my righteous anger.
“You will never be my equal.” My blood ran cold with his statement, and I loosened my hold on his dick to push away from him, but a strong arm banded around my back to pull me flush into his chest. This time, without my hand separating us, I felt every hard inch of him pressed against me.
“You will never be my equal because you were never beneath me in the first place. You were, and always have been, my salvation, my goddess, my pinnacle. I’d worship at your feet and offer sacrifices on your altar just for you to see your worth, for you to understand how, at the end of it all, it is always you.
” He pulled away incrementally to stare into my eyes.
“So I will burn the world to ash, if just to see you rule over the pieces left. You are so beyond my equal, you are my everything.”
I searched his eyes for the truth, nearly choking over the earnestness and vulnerability in his expression.
“Then treat me that way. No more hiding things from me. No more making plans without me. Because I swear to you, I will leave. I will not tolerate that anymore. Not from you, not from anyone.”
His gaze held mine, golden eyes open and vulnerable as he nodded his head.
“Good,” I whispered, withdrawing from his embrace and making my way to the armoire again. “Now, we need to discuss—”
“We don’t need to discuss anything,” Torin growled, his arms banding across my breasts and lower belly as he pulled me back against his hard chest, grinding his erection into my bare ass.
“I heard you, now you need to hear me. If you could see past your anger, if you took a step back, you would realize that everything I’ve done since I met you, I did for you, to protect you. ”
“I don’t need protecting!” I practically screamed as Torin walked us over to the lone side table in the room.
Roughly, he pushed my chest on top of the table, my damp skin squeaking against the polished wood.
I went pliantly, knowing that at any point I could let my magic loose to free myself from the confines of his grasp.
But I didn’t.
As frustrated with him as I was, I needed to feel his hands on my body and his cock inside me, filling me. Needed his touch to dissipate this dark cloud that hovered above me.
“Maybe not,” he admitted, one hand pressed between my shoulder blades, pinning me in place, while the other quickly worked to undo his pants, the rasp of strings against leather mingling with our panting breaths in the silent space.
“But whether you like it or not, you are mine to protect. Mine to love. Mine to fuck.”
His pants fell to the ground with a near-silent thump, and I groaned as his hot, hard flesh pressed against my bare ass. I was already wet, the adrenaline from our argument arousing me in a way I’d never expected.
Torin paused with the crown of his cock just breaching my entrance, and I writhed, desperately trying to push myself back enough to coax him inside.
Unfortunately, his palm held my body tight to the table, the edges of it dug into my exposed breasts and tightened nipples, and I found myself unable to move any more than what he allowed.
“No,” he growled, his grip unforgiving. “I told you were mine to fuck, and that is exactly what I am going to do.”