39. Time For Dessert
CHAPTER 39
Time For Dessert
Hawke Stormblood
My brother married Vencia Darkwood.
I reach for Melinda’s hand under the table. Her eyes meet mine, concern swirling in their depths. I send a wave of reassurance through our bond before turning back to the messenger.
He’s traveling from Lunaris. How? When? Why? What is he getting out of this? He doesn’t love her… I know that for sure. So what other reason could he have for wanting to marry that snake in the grass?
My father’s face is red, his composure cracking. "When?" His voice cuts through the silence, sharp and demanding.
Mother's hand flies to her mouth, her eyes wide and searching. She stares at me, desperate for answers I don't possess.
I shake my head. I have none.
My brothers in arms and Kellan are all silent and still at the table.
The messenger flinches. "The ceremony took place yesterday, Your Majesty."
Mother's voice quavers. "But... why? Why would he do this without telling us? And in the middle of everything. She was meant to be your betrothed. Was he in love with her?" She looks at me again.
I clench my fists. My brother has aligned himself with the very family that tried to have my soul match murdered. “No. He wasn’t in love with her. And the only thing Vencia cares about more than her vanity is her social status.”
“I want to be informed the second they arrive tomorrow. And tell the staff Destrien and his new wife are to be put in the guest quarters on the other side of the palace away from the family wing.” My father’s tone is dark and filled with hostility.
A grim satisfaction settles in my chest at his words. "Good," I growl, my voice low enough that only those closest to me can hear. "Let them feel the chill of their betrayal."
My father gives a slight motion with his hand and the messenger bows and leaves. Then my father rises from his chair and we all do the same. “I’ve lost my appetite,” he says. “Wife, we have much to attend to. Son, we will speak later.” He takes my mother’s hand and leads her away from the table and out a side door.
We all bow and do not sit again until the door closes behind them.
A few seconds later Wraith drums the table with his fingers a few times and leans back in his chair. “I expected another attack. That Camelot was in ruins. Or that armies were pouring into Avalon… but I did not expect your brother to do that .”
“Neither did I.” I pick up my cup and take a sip of the sweet ale.
“Were there signs?” Boaz asks, popping a grape into his mouth.
“None that I saw,” I say, putting a small bunch of grapes on Melinda’s plate along with a honey cake. I know she likes them and she hasn’t eaten anything since last evening before I stole her away. I fill her cup with ale from the pitcher next to me as well. I lean close, putting my lips on her ear. “Eat something, my sweet girl.”
Her pleasure flares in our bond and I lean back to admire the soft blush now coloring her cheeks.
"Do you think he has designs on your coronation?"
The question hangs in the air, heavy with implications. I pause, my mind racing through possibilities, each more unsettling than the last.
"No," I say finally, the word tasting bitter on my tongue. "My brother desires power, that's certain, but marrying Vencia wouldn't get him closer to the throne." Even as I speak, doubt gnaws at the edges of my conviction. What am I missing?
"Perhaps not, but it must get him something," Boaz says, his eyes sharp with suspicion.
I lean back, running a hand through my hair. What could Destrien gain from this union? Political allies? Resources? My gut twists with unease.
"A cold woman for a wife," Wraith says, putting his cup down on the table and refilling it with ale.
A humorless smile tugs at my lips. "Cold indeed. But dangerous too. We need to be prepared for whatever game they're playing."
The words are inadequate, barely scratching the surface of the doubts churning within me. Betrayal, hot and sharp, wars with a deep-seated worry. Destrien might be selfish and power hungry, but he's still my brother. What desperate circumstances could have driven him to this?
I take a long drink, the ale doing little to soothe my frayed nerves. One thing is clear–the pieces on the board have shifted and there are pieces in play I can’t see yet. My eyes find Melinda's, drawing strength from our bond. Whatever comes, we'll face it together. I am whole because of her. Now, I must help my brothers find the same peace.
"Speaking of preparation," I say, my gaze sweeping across my brothers-in-arms, "We need to gather more information. Any thoughts on where to start?"
Wraith leans forward, his eyes sharp. "Ares first. We should try to connect with him, see if he's learned anything new while he was on Olympus."
Boaz nods, adding, "And we need to know how the power in the council broke whose side they all stand on. Do you think Destrien was allied with Darkwood? Could the marriage be about that?"
"I don't know," I admit, grateful for their quick minds. "But you're right, we need all the information we can get."
"I can reach out to some of the rebels who came into the city," Fen offers. "They might share what they know about the council or Vencia's family."
"Good thinking," I agree. "And while we're at it, let's see if we can find out anything more about Atlas, too. He was able to help Melinda when I wasn’t. I want to know why."
Wraith's expression turns grim. "Consider it done. We'll divide and conquer – I'll take Ares, Boaz can dig into the council, and Fen can make nice with our new rebel friends." Wraith's gaze shifts to Melinda. "Your mate looks like she needs a break, Hawke. Perhaps you two should rest while we dive into all this."
“I’m fine. I don’t want–” She folds her napkin and shakes her head. “There’s so much to do. I can help.”
“Sweet girl. I’m not sending you off on espionage missions. You have a wedding tomorrow. You deserve rest and pampering before we’re rudely interrupted again by council bullshit.” I stand and slide her chair back, taking her hand. "Melinda and I will retire for now. If you need us, send for us. It was a long night and an even longer morning."
"We'll reconvene here for the evening meal," Boaz suggests. "Compare notes then?”
The others nod in agreement. As we move to leave, Kellan rises too, taking up position right behind Melinda.
As we walk Melinda's hand remains in mine, our fingers intertwined. I can’t stop touching her. I want her close to me every moment. I never thought I would feel this way about a woman. I believed for so long that I was doomed to die alone and lost in the darkness that had threatened to swallow me for so many years.
And now she’s here. Now I’m not alone.
I have a mate. A soul match.
I plan to exhaust you completely and fall asleep with you draped over my body, sweet girl. How does that sound? I ask privately through our bond.
Absolutely perfect, she answers back in my mind.
A soft blush colors her cheeks and the shiver that ripples through her body makes my cock hard and my steps quicken.
We round a corner, and as we approach the doors to my bedroom suite, Kellan moves ahead, checking the bedroom and adjoining rooms. "All clear, Domina ," he says, his voice low. “I’ll be just outside this door if you need anything.”
“Thank you, Kellan.” She flashes him a small smile.
The Drakonii gives me a respectful nod and steps out. The heavy door thuds shut behind us. Through the thick wood, I hear Kellan's boots scrape against stone as he takes his position.
“I don’t think he likes me,” I say under my breath as I turn back to my mate.
Melinda stands in a pool of sunlight streaming through the high windows. Her eyes, bright with desire, lock onto mine. Any trace of fatigue has vanished, replaced by a hunger that matches my own. “By the gods, you are beautiful.”
She smiles and I cross the room in three long strides. Melinda's arms rise, welcoming me. As they loop around my neck, I crush my lips to hers. The kiss deepens, fierce and urgent. Our tongues dance, tasting, exploring. Heat builds between us, a living thing. When we break apart, we're both panting, chests heaving.
I scoop Melinda into my arms. She weighs nothing, but she is everything. Her warmth seeps into me, igniting every nerve. I carry her towards the massive four-poster bed, it's dark wood gleaming in the afternoon light.
"The fates have truly blessed me, sweet girl," I murmur against her ear..
I let her slide down my body, savoring every point of contact. The curve of her breasts, the softness of her stomach, the swell of her hips – all rub against my rock-hard cock as she descends. When her feet touch the ground, I'm achingly aware of every inch separating us.
"We won't be interrupted this time," I growl, my fingers finding the shoulders of her dress. The fabric, delicate and gossamer-thin, offers no resistance. With one sharp tug, I rip through both the silk and undergarments. The fabric slithers to the floor, pooling around Melinda's feet.
She stands before me, gloriously bare. My breath catches in my throat. Sunlight gilds her skin, turning it to molten gold. Shadows play in the dip of her collarbone, the valley between her breasts, the curve of her waist. She's a work of art, a goddess made flesh.
"Hawke, the dress!" Melinda gasps, her eyes wide.
I step closer, eliminating the space between us. "I'll fix it for you later. Or make you another." My lips find her neck, zeroing in on the spot where I marked her. I drag my fangs across the sensitive skin, relishing her shiver. "So beautiful, my love."
Melinda's breath hitches. "My love?" Her voice trembles, hope and vulnerability mingling in those two words. "Do you love me, Hawke? I’ve felt it through our bond, but this is the first time you’ve called me that."
I pull back, needing to see her face. Two fingers beneath her chin tilt her face up to mine. Her eyes, deep pools of honey-brown, search mine. In their depths, I see questions and fears.
"I love you with every breath," I tell her. Each word carries the weight of a vow, heavy with promise and devotion. "With every part of me. I think I have since the very first time I saw you."
My free hand finds the small of her back, fingers splaying wide. I pull her closer, eliminating any space between us. Her soft curves mold against the hard planes of my body, a perfect fit. The heat of her skin seeps through me, warming me to the core.
"I will love you through this life and the next," I continue, my eyes never leaving hers. In this moment, I pour every ounce of conviction, every fragment of my soul into those words. They're more than a declaration–they're a binding oath, as unbreakable as the bond we share.
Melinda's eyes, those deep pools of honey-brown I could lose myself in forever, shimmer with unshed tears. I watch as emotions flicker across her face–wonder, joy, and a love so fierce it takes my breath away.
Through our bond, I feel the echoes of her heart. Her joy bubbles up like a spring, pure and sweet. Her love wraps around me, warm and all-encompassing. And her desire... it crashes over me like a tidal wave, threatening to sweep me away into a heaven I’ve only ever imagined.
And I embrace it. I let myself be carried by the current of our shared emotions. My lips find hers again, capturing them in a kiss that's both tender and passionate. She should never again question my devotion, never fear losing me. I will spend every day showing her, in words and actions, just how deeply she is loved.
"I love you, too," she whispers against my lips, her breath mingling with mine.
Those four words, so simple yet so profound, send a jolt through me. I've known it, felt it through our bond, but hearing her say it... it's like the final piece of a puzzle clicking into place. In this moment, despite the chaos swirling around us, despite the uncertain future, I am whole. I am home.
The air between us crackles. My heart pounds, a thundering rhythm that matches the pulse beneath Melinda's skin. I crowd her toward the bed, each step deliberate, my eyes never leaving hers. The back of her thighs bump against the mattress, and a shiver of anticipation runs through her.
"Up you go, sweet girl," I murmur. "Spread those legs for me. Let me taste what is mine ."
Melinda's eyes darken, pupils dilating with arousal. She crawls backward onto the bed, her movements graceful and enticing. As she settles against the pillows and parts her thighs, I'm struck anew by her beauty. She's a goddess, and I am her devoted worshiper.
I lean forward, savoring the sight before me. With gentle hands, I part her folds, revealing the glistening evidence of her desire. I blow a cool stream of air against her most sensitive spot, watching in awe as her body responds.
Melinda's back arches off the bed, a low, needy whine escaping her lips. The sound goes straight through me, igniting a fire in my veins and making me achingly hard.
I position myself between her thighs, drinking in the sight of her. "Mine," I growl, the word both a statement and a question. "Say it."
"Yours," Melinda breathes, her voice trembling with need. "Please, Hawke."
The plea in her voice nearly undoes me. I lean in, using my tongue to explore her most intimate places. The taste of her explodes on my tongue, sweeter than any ambrosia. I map every fold, every curve, committing it all to memory.
Melinda arches again, her fingers finding purchase in my hair. The slight sting as she tugs sends a jolt of pleasure down my spine. "More, please," she begs.
"You taste so good," I whisper against her heated flesh before diving back in with renewed fervor.
I lose myself in her, in the taste of her, the sound of her moans, the trembling of her body beneath me. My world narrows to this moment, to the pleasure I'm giving her. I use everything at my disposal–lips, tongue, fingers–to bring her higher and higher.
Her pleasure builds like a tidal wave gathering strength. I double my efforts, determined to see her fall apart under my touch.
When she finally comes, it's with a ragged scream that echoes off the chamber walls. Her body arches, taut as a bowstring, before collapsing back onto the bed. Through our bond, I enjoy the aftershocks of her pleasure, each one sending a corresponding thrill through my own body.
I crawl up, peppering her skin with gentle kisses as I go. When I reach her face, I see her eyes are closed, her expression one of utter bliss. I brush a stray lock of hair from her forehead, marveling at the softness of her skin.
"Open your eyes, my sweet girl, my love. That was only the start. We are far from finished.”