Chapter 46
I look at him and see myself too often. What would I have been like had I been born with his destiny?
Already, at sixteen, he feels the weight of his future on his shoulders, and I remind him to smile more, to laugh more.
Soon enough, he’ll be forced to accept that weight.
But, as sixteen-year-olds are so wont to do, he ignores me.
He blames both of us for the war raging beyond Draenyth, and he’s not wrong.
I only hope that he doesn’t let that blame turn to hate as he ages.
~Cole Cyrus, personal journals
Fiona
Even in the overwhelming darkness, I still feel his heat, still feel those shadows begging me to do so much more than kiss Azric. He whispers to me, “We shouldn’t do this. We can’t.”
“We can and we should,” I whisper back. I should be afraid of the Void. I should be worried about that eternal darkness pressing against me. But right now, not even never-ending nothingness can penetrate this bubble of perfection we’re in.
I feel his nails scrape against my cheek as they have so many times in the past, but this time, I lean into them. Then we’re out of the Void and lying on his bed in his chambers. I’m on top of him, and the first thing I do is pull my shirt off to reveal my armor and wrap.
I straddle his body and move to untie the leather plates. Azric’s eyes never leave my body, but he doesn’t reach for me, and suddenly, the shadows disappear. His eyes harden, and the vulnerability which had been there fades along with the shadows.
“You don’t know what you’re saying,” he says ominously. “You and I cannot do this. This is the first step toward becoming someone who’d let the world die just to save one person.”
I frown as the armor comes loose. My movements slow as I pull the armor off me and drop it on the side of the bed. “What do you mean?” I ask.
“My mother sacrificed the world to bring my father back from the dead. My mother sacrificed how many lives? She traded me for him. Fiona, I cannot become my mother.”
I stare down at the man I’d been so desperate for only moments ago. “You will never be your mother,” I say without a shred of doubt.
His hand moves to my throat, not to grab it, but to let his nails run over my skin, and those nails trail down my wrap, moving between my breasts to my stomach. They slide under the waistband of my pants, and a thrill runs through my body, but they stop inches away from what I want.
“Really? I’ll hold the fate of all of Nyth and the gods in my hands.
That was the prophecy Saelira gave when I was presented to them as a newborn.
It will be me who decides the fate of everyone.
What if I give in to the feelings inside me, and there comes a time where I must choose between you and the rest of the world?
Which will I pick? No, I cannot let myself give in to those desires, Fiona.
This is the first step. If we move beyond this… ”
I stare into his eyes, understanding his reasons, and instead of getting off him, I slowly untie my wrap.
I don’t look away as I drop the linen onto the ground beside my armor.
Then I undo the buttons of his black and crimson riding coat one at a time until I pull it open.
I press my hands against the silk of his waistcoat.
“You are not a fucking monster, Azric,” I finally say.
“You’ve seen terrible things. You’ve made decisions that hurt you.
I can see them reflected in your eyes. I know if the time came, and it was my life against everyone else’s, you’d choose them.
If you didn’t, you’d lose me regardless because I couldn’t care for someone who’d make that choice.
You aren’t your mother because she was selfish in a way that puts the gods to shame, while you’re the most selfless man I’ve ever known. ”
I lean down and kiss him again. His hands run over my back, tracing the curves of my muscles. He doesn’t argue with me, doesn’t try to escape me. The shadows return, wrapping around me in a thick cloud. I feel him stirring between my legs.
Then the unmistakable feel of his seduction magic wraps around me. Every nerve ending seems to stand on end, waiting for his touch to devour me. He doesn’t move. His hands hold me still as those shadows tease me. I gasp as they slide between my legs.
Then he’s gone. Where his body had been before is just an empty bed. Where there’d been an insistent pressure under me, there’s only air.
A rough hand tangles in my hair from behind me and pulls hard. Another hand slides seductively across the painfully desperate skin of my stomach to grasp my breast. His thumb and index finger find my nipple and squeeze.
I moan as I feel his now naked body lean over me.
“I crave you, Fiona Thorne,” he whispers in my ear.
“From the moment I touched you in the Crimson Tower, I’ve been drawn to you.
You asked why I tried to take off your clothes on the dragon roost, and it’s because I wanted to see you, to touch you, to consume you. ”
His cock presses against my pants, and I grip the sheets under me. It’s impossible to hold back the moans.
His lips find my neck, and instead of the sensuous kisses he’s left before, these are hard with more than a bit of teeth.
Shadows climb over and under my pants and boots, covering my entire lower half in them, and suddenly I’m naked. He sent my pants and boots to the Void. He pulls harder on my hair and grips my breast tight enough to leave fingerprint bruises on it.
Then he releases me, and I turn around to see him getting off the bed.
I whirl around to face the Prince of Bones, the Champion of Beauty and Death.
He’s the man I’ve fantasized about for months, ever since that first meeting when I robbed him.
There was never any doubt he was handsome in a way no human man could be.
I’ve seen that face, the hard lines that seem to be sculpted.
I’ve admired the lips that look like they were created from rubies and the eyes which burn with a fire I barely understand.
I’ve felt the raven-black hair which looks as if it were stolen from the midnight sky.
Now I see the rest of him, which he’s kept hidden under tailored riding jackets and waistcoats.
It’s a body made for war, but there are no scars or blemishes.
No one is born with muscles like that. He built that body.
From the thick forearms with pulsing veins to the broad shoulders wrapped in striated muscles to the prominent collarbone.
My eyes move down his body and take in the wide and just as muscular chest. His stomach is lean yet thick. The jutting lines of his hips point to the one part of him I’m both terrified of and drawn to.
His cock stands at attention, the tip glistening in the firelight. It calls to me even as a terrified look crosses Azric’s beautiful face. “Why’d you leave?” I whisper.
“Because you terrify me. The way I feel when I touch you is dangerous. I don’t know if I want to control myself with you. And I want to do so much more than touch you.”
I slide off the bed and let my bare feet touch the black duskthorn floor. Each step seems to send quivers through the Prince of Bones. His fists clench at his sides, and his jaw tightens as he stares at my naked body.
“You don’t need to be soft, Prince of Bones. I’m not made of glass, and I certainly won’t shatter at your touch. If you hurt me, you can always heal me, can’t you?”
He clenches his jaw tight enough to crack teeth as I stand in front of him.
“I want this,” I say. “I want you in all your dark glory, and if that means I have to go through a little pain… Well, pain doesn’t matter, does it, Prince of Bones?
But life does. You may be the Champion of Death, but every time I’m near you, I feel the life hiding inside you.
I would trade pain to see that life even once, Azric Cyrus. ”
His eyes soften yet burn hotter, and he reaches for me, his crimson nails running over my cheek. But everything stops. His hands don’t move. He doesn’t breathe. There is no pulsing heartbeat in the veins of his neck.
The world becomes very, very quiet. No, not quiet. Absolutely silent.
Then there’s a soft voice no one could ignore, even with the way my body feels. “Hello, Fiona Thorne. It is high time we finally met.”