Chapter 23
Cora POV
Garrion and Mika drift away, leaving me with Soma as they fall easily into conversation with the other men.
“Get used to it,” Soma says with a wry smile.
“What do you mean?” I ask, curious.
“Once they’ve got a drink in their hand, men never stop chatting,” she replies, amusement flickering in her eyes.
I glance toward Garrion. He seems at ease here, his posture relaxed, his mask no barrier among his own. The sight stirs something in me, curiosity, longing.
“Have you seen him without his mask?” I ask bluntly.
“Yes, I have,” she answers without hesitation.
“And?” I press, my voice sharper than I intend.
“It’s not for me to tell. He’ll show you when he’s ready.” She leans closer, her tone gentler now. “Trust me, it won’t be long. He adores you.”
Her words are meant to comfort, and though the question still hangs heavy in my chest, I let them settle over me like a fragile balm.
“Seems like you’re smitten with him too,” Soma prods, her tone playful but her eyes watchful.
“He’s not like any man I’ve ever met,” I admit, the words slipping out before I can guard them. “There’s something about him… it draws me in, whether I want it to or not.”
Soma’s expression softens, her teasing replaced with sincerity. “I think you’re the perfect woman for him,” she says, her voice steady, as though she’s certain of it.
I watch Garrion yawn for the tenth time, and the urge to interfere rises in me. He needs rest before he goes back out there, into the cold.
“Do you have any suggestions on how to tear him away from his men?” I ask Soma, lowering my voice.
“It’s simple, use your body. No man can resist,” she replies with a mischievous grin. To prove her point, she catches Mika’s attention and blows him a kiss. His face lights up instantly, his grin wide and unguarded.
“See?” she says, smug with her demonstration.
I rise from my seat, smoothing the cloak around me, and head toward the door. Just once, I glance back over my shoulder and Garrion is already following, leaving his men behind without hesitation.
Thank you, Soma, I think, a smile tugging at my lips.
He catches up to me in no time, his stride purposeful. “Where are you off to, Cora?” he asks, voice low and curious.
“It’s time for bed, my lord,” I say, trying to sound confident as we walk together toward the room.
His lips curve into a teasing smile. “And what exactly are we going to do in bed?”
“Sleep,” I answer bluntly, refusing to give him the satisfaction of hesitation.
Once we are alone in the room, Garrion closes the distance between us in a few purposeful strides.
His hands move with surprising gentleness as he slips the cloak from my shoulders, letting it fall away.
Fingers deft and unhurried, he begins to undo the laces of my corset, his breath warm against my skin.
“I think you brought me up here with intentions other than sleep, my lady,” he murmurs, his voice low, teasing, the words brushing over me like a caress.
I step away from him, my pulse quickening, and move toward the bed. Slipping beneath the heavy furs, I wait, listening to the quiet rustle of leather as he undresses. He is quick, efficient, and soon the mattress dips under his weight as he joins me.
The mask remains. Always the mask. Patience, I remind myself, though the curiosity gnaws at me.
His voice breaks the silence, low and teasing. “Now that you have me here, what are you going to do with me, Cora?”
Heat rises in me at his words. I shift, straddling him, pressing my lips to his in answer. His hands slide across my back, firm yet tender, drawing me closer, grounding me in the moment.
The mask may hide his face, but nothing can conceal the way he touches me.
I trail soft kisses along the line of his jaw, lingering as I move down the curve of his neck. A low moan escapes him, rough and unrestrained, and the sound spurs me on.
Encouraged, I let my lips wander further, tracing the breadth of his chest, tasting the warmth of his skin. My mouth follows the sculpted lines downward, reverent, deliberate. I press a kiss against each defined ridge of his abdomen, savoring the way he shudders beneath my touch.
I lick his length and his whole body shivers. I take him into my mouth and start sucking him slowly.
I lift my gaze to him, and the sight steals my breath, his eyes are wild, untamed, his mouth parted as though words barely cling to him, his breathing ragged and uneven. The rawness of him, the way he looks at me, sends tingles down my spine.
“Don’t stop, Cora,” he urges, his voice rough, breaking against the edges of desire. The command is not harsh but desperate, a plea wrapped in fire.
I start to move my mouth faster, savoring the taste of him.
He doesn't touch me just lets me explore him.
My hand gently cradles his balls and he hisses, the sound sharp and primal, his head tipping back to strike the wall with a dull thud.
The moan that escapes him is raw, unrestrained, vibrating through the air and straight into me.
I feel him harden in my mouth and I know he is close to his release. I gently play with his balls as my mouth glides over his dick.
He finally takes my head into his hands and starts moving his hips in time with my mouth, pushing himself deeper into my throat and I relax trying not to gag.
He screams my name as his seed floods my mouth, and I swallow it all. He lets go of me, his body relaxing as he slides out of my mouth.
I let him sink into the bed, his body heavy with exhaustion, and curl against his chest.
The steady thrum of his heartbeat pounds like distant thunder beneath my ear, grounding me in its rhythm.
His arm drapes protectively over me, instinctive, as though even in weariness he cannot stop shielding me.
I pull the furs up around us, cocooning us in warmth.
His breathing is ragged, uneven, each inhale a struggle as he tries to catch his breath. “Give me a few minutes, Cora,” he murmurs, voice rough with fatigue.
I lift my head just enough to meet his masked gaze, my words soft, coaxing. “Go to sleep, Garrion. There is always tomorrow.”
The gentleness in my tone settles between us, and I feel the tension in him ease, his body surrendering to rest.
Garrion POV
I wake to the warmth of Cora’s back pressed against my side, her breathing soft and steady, a rhythm that soothes the restless edges of me.
The room is hushed, but I know dawn is not far off.
And with it, the reminder that this time tomorrow, I will have to leave her, leave this fragile peace we’ve carved out of the night.
Yet even as the thought gnaws at me, I make a silent vow.
When I return, there will be no more mask, no more hiding.
I will lay it all bare before her, the truth, the face I’ve kept from her.
I pray she will not hold it against me. I pray she will still look at me the way she does now, as though I am more than the shadows I carry.
My mind replays the memory of her, the way she commanded my body without hesitation, how she took control with a fire I could not resist. The strength in her touch, the certainty in her kiss, it stripped me of defenses I thought unbreakable.
She owns me now. Entirely. And for the first time in my life, I do not fear belonging to someone.
As much as I ache to wake her, to claim her body and lose myself in her warmth, I force the urge down. She deserves more than desire alone. I don’t want this to be only lust between us.
What I want is what Mika and Soma share, the kind of love that endures distance, silence, and separation. A bond that holds even when the world pulls them apart.
One day, the king will call on me again. I know it is inevitable. And when that summons comes, I cannot say how long I will be gone, or what dangers I will face. The thought gnaws at me, sharp and merciless.
But right now, with her pressed close against me, I let myself dream of something lasting. Something worth returning to.
I draw her closer, pressing her against me, and breathe in her scent, warm, familiar, grounding. It settles something restless inside me. By some miracle, sleep claims me again, pulling me under with her steady rhythm beside me.
When I finally wake, sunlight is streaming through the windows, golden and unrelenting. Judging by its height, it must be noon. I blink against the brightness, disoriented for a moment, until I feel her still curled against me.
Cora is fast asleep, her breathing soft and even. We both must have needed this, rest, peace, the rare chance to simply exist together without duty pressing in.
I rise and dress, the weight of responsibility settling over me as I prepare to meet with my men. Tomorrow’s journey looms, and I must ensure they are ready.
Outside, I find Mika crouched beside his son, guiding the boy’s small hands around the hilt of a sword. The child is only four, yet already strong, his grip steady, his stance eager. The sight stirs something deep within me, a vision of what could be.
For a fleeting moment, I let my mind drift to the possibility of having a son of my own. I would strive to be a better father than mine ever was, to give what was denied to me: guidance, patience, love.
But the thought is quickly shadowed. As long as Dorrian sits the throne, children are out of the question. His reach is long, his demands unrelenting. To bring a child into that world would be to place them in chains before they could walk.
So I bury the longing, as I have buried so many things, and turn my focus back to duty.
Mika spots me across the yard and strides over, his expression bright. “You look well rested for a change,” he remarks, a hint of approval in his tone.
Before I can respond, he continues, “I’ve organized a dozen men to accompany you. They’re already preparing provisions and horses to see you safely to the first outpost.”
He didn’t need to do that for me. It’s more than I asked, more than I deserve, but I appreciate it all the same.
“Thank you, Mika” I say, my voice steady but weighted with sincerity.
“I’ve also asked Soma to show Cora the day-to-day workings of the fortress,” Mika says, matter-of-fact. “She’s Lady Darkmoor now, it’s her duty to ensure this place doesn’t crumble to the ground.”
I can’t help but think he’s thought of everything, covering details I hadn’t yet considered.
“Perhaps I should make you Lord and General of the North,” I tell him, half serious, half amused.
Mika snorts, shaking his head. “Nah, far too much responsibility for me. You keep that title all to yourself, Garrion.” His grin is teasing, but there’s warmth behind it, the kind of loyalty that makes the weight of command feel lighter.