Chapter 42 Edge of the Break
EDGE OF THE brEAK
He carried her through the castle as if she weighed nothing, his stride long and unbothered despite the spiraling hallways and high-arched corridors he’d never set foot in before.
“Put me down,” Ella hissed.
He didn’t.
She glared up at him even though he couldn’t see it.
“Jake, put me the fuck down.”
He stopped and set her on her feet, though he didn’t look remotely sorry about it. His hands lingered at her waist, as if letting go might undo everything he’d just fought for. Finally, he let go and took a single step back.
“You don’t even know where you’re going,” she said, brushing her hands over her dress.
Jakobav’s mouth twitched. “Fair point.”
“So maybe let the person who actually lived here lead.”
She took the front, and he fell into step behind her. They crossed two long galleries, past pillars and tall windows spilling moonlight across the floor, until she turned into a quiet wing lined with closed doors.
“Marisol said they kept my room exactly as it was. Only attendants entered to clean. No one else has stepped inside since I left.” Her fingers hovered near her skirts, restless. “In case I came home.” Her chest tightened, a small pang of guilt stirring before she shoved it down.
They stopped in front of a familiar door.
Ella swallowed hard.
The hall outside Ella’s chambers glowed golden, torchlight painting restless shadows across marble while the faint perfume of jungle flowers drifted through the open lattice at the end of the hall. The silence in the corridor hung thick, humming with the aftermath of the evening.
“Where am I supposed to sleep?” His voice was rough, pitched low, the battlefield still clinging to it.
Ella’s lips curved. “With me, obviously.”
Something feral lit behind his eyes, barely leashed, and he caught her wrist, drawing her forearm into the torchlight.
The faint scorch from Caelen’s Veinfire traced itself like ink across her skin, and his jaw clenched, a muscle ticking hard.
Then his other hand closed around her opposite wrist, pulling it into the light as well.
The silver half-moon Thread-burn gleamed faintly against her pulse, etched into her like an unhealed secret.
Jakobav’s eyes darkened as if the sight struck him deep. His grip tightened just enough to anchor her in place, his gaze locked on the twin marks carved into her skin.
“If anyone else ever lays flame or fate on you again, I’ll end them.”
The words sat between them, too full of truth.
He drew in a slow breath, looking like he was trying to push the violence back behind his teeth. “Does it hurt?” His voice was quiet.
“The Veinfire still stings,” Ella replied honestly.
He slid a square of linen from his coat, but instead of tending to her right there in the corridor, he nudged her door open with his boot and guided her inside.
The chamber held a faint floral scent, the basin gleaming on the table as though waiting for this moment.
He poured water over her arm, the touch cold against the burn, and bound her forearm with careful hands.
When he finished, he bent and pressed his mouth to the skin just above the bandage, sending a shiver through her despite the warm night.
She couldn’t believe he was there with her, in her chambers, a place she’d thought she would never see again. Ella’s thoughts slipped back to the banquet, to the way women had leaned forward when he entered, their gazes drinking him in.
Vultures.
“Half the hall would’ve dropped their goblets to be the one you noticed. And yet here you are, tending to my injury.”
His jaw flexed, but instead of the smirk she expected, he only stilled. His steady gaze locked on hers.
“I didn’t come here for politics. I walked into enemy territory not knowing if I’d be met with an army.
I came for you, Ella.” His voice roughened, conviction burning low and fierce.
“I’ll follow you anywhere. Into whatever hell the fates unleash.
Not because you’re a prize to be won, but because you’re the only choice I’ll ever make. ”
Her chest tightened, the jealousy dissolving into something hungrier, something that pinned her in place.
“Now, no more touching you until you say so,” he murmured.
Liquid heat pooled low in her belly at his words.
This man would kill anyone who dared touch her without permission, and gods, the dark promise of it throbbed through her, desire gathering between her thighs.
“I’m saying so,” she breathed.
The corner of his mouth lifted. “Then say it again.”
Her fingers fisted in his collar. “Stay.”
Jakobav pushed the door shut with his shoulder, sealing off the empty corridor. Her back hit the wood as he crowded into her space, his hands cupping her jaw and sliding to the nape of her neck.
“Tell me no,” he rasped against her mouth.
“No…I won’t. Please, Jake. Stop holding back,” she breathed.
Cloth tore between them, tugged impatiently as though every barrier had become an offense.
He stripped her bare, and for a heartbeat, he only looked, his eyes dark and reverent, worship and feral hunger tangled together.
“Fuck,” he growled, his voice breaking with truth. “You’re beautiful, Ellandria.”
His gaze traveled over her. “Now get on the bed. On your knees. Face me.”
Heat scalded her cheeks, but her body obeyed. She turned toward the mattress, the sway of her hips intentional, aware and unashamed of her nakedness before him.
She climbed onto the bed, knees sinking into the furs as a sound broke from him, a half-groan, half-growl, primal and ragged.
He followed her onto the mattress in one fluid motion, closing the distance in a swift blur.
One hand gripped her hip with bruising strength while the other skimmed along her spine.
His palm landed hard on the curve of her ass, anchoring her, then his mouth brushed her ear—almost tender—a contradiction so sharp it made her shiver.
Jakobav pressed her into the mattress, braced above her on his forearms. Their mouths found each other again and again, desperate, as if kissing were the only language left to them.
Her fingers slid into his hair, tugging him closer until his forehead pressed to hers, his breath uneven, rough velvet against her lips.
“Tell me what you want,” he rasped.
“I want you to fuck me, Jake. Now,” she shot back, voice breaking like a challenge and a plea.
His control snapped, and the kiss turned deeper, hungrier. She met every thrust of his tongue with hers, her thirst turning carnal and hands roaming over his chest, his abdomen, and then lower. Fuck, this man was unacceptably hot. And ridiculously hard.
She pressed herself against him, body arching with need.
He held her face in both hands, as though she were the only one he desired in this world.
Her legs wrapped around him, pulling him flush against her, and he answered with a groan that sounded closer to prayer than sin.
She rocked her hips, knowing he could feel her wetness and scent the want dripping off her.
He pressed his cock into her slickened core, slow at first, teasing her. She gasped from the fullness of it. She would never get over how completely he filled her, each thrust driving deeper.
“Fuck, Jakobav,” she breathed.
Her fingernails bit into his back, clutching him as if begging not to stop. A moan tumbled from her lips, and was answered by his hips thrusting deeper, quickening the pace in a delicious, relentless torture.
His mouth brushed her jaw, her cheek, the corner of her lips. The worship in his eyes, the maddening softness of his kisses, made her entire body tense with anticipation of sweet release.
She whimpered against his mouth, wanting him to come apart for her just like she was unraveling for him.
“You’re so fucking perfect, Ella,” he murmured, guiding her hand between their bodies and placing it on her clit, his hand on top of hers, working over her sensitive spot, demanding the rhythm he wanted from her before removing his hand.
“Keep going until I tell you to stop.”
Her breath shuddered. A moan escaped, and he swallowed it with another kiss, deep and unguarded.
When his mouth grazed her throat, she whispered, “Don’t bite me this time. Don’t draw blood. Please.” Her own words startled her. Desire warred with dread—the memory of the Fae’s fury never far from her mind. If Jake tasted her again, a ripple could tear open in the middle of Orchid’s castle.
He moaned against her throat, teeth grazing. “Tell me what you’re hiding.”
She said nothing, her mind going to the crescent on her wrist, hidden by the bandage.
The green-eyed Fae had all but admitted to punishing her and sending that creature through the breach near the Dravaryn gate.
He’d scented her and Jake through the ripple, and worse, he called it the Sacred Fae Garden.
Gods…what does that even mean?
She moved her palms flat to Jakobav’s back, grounding herself in the present moment. She realized she hadn’t actually answered his question. She’d given him only silence.
He searched her eyes, then exhaled roughly, like a man surrendering to a choice he’d already made. He shook his head once. “Fuck it,” he growled. “I told you I’ll take you any way you let me.”
He returned to her neck, placing kisses down the column of her throat, hungry and careful at once.
His hands slid lower, found her ankles, then swept them into his grip, tugging her down the bed like drawing a thread through a needle.
He eased her knees higher, folding her open to the torchlight, then drove into her, unyielding, each thrust a promise hammered into rhythm.
The wood creaked, the headboard shuddered, and her voice shattered on his name. He found the beat beneath her skin and followed it, his breath ragged against her mouth as he moved faster.
Jakobav tore his mouth from hers long enough to growl against her ear, “Fuck. We fit so perfectly. You’re mine.”