Chapter Fifty-Eight Riela
Chapter Fifty-Eight
Riela
Inna Pathriart could not have known that she was writing this journal for her future daughter when she’d started, but her
writing was warm and engaging, and I fell into it completely. It was like a fairy tale, but one of the old ones that didn’t
end happily.
Hers was a tale of pain and heartbreak and stark perseverance. The Blood King might be my biological father, but it wasn’t
because Inna had invited his attention. Once she could no longer hide her condition, she’d fled, using the chochapa flowers
to hide in the forest.
Because even though she loved her sister fiercely, she hadn’t been sure the Sapphire Queen could protect me from King Roseguard.
She’d ended up living in an abandoned hunting cabin in the woods near my village, and that’s where she’d met my father, who’d
fallen instantly in love with her. But she had been unable to escape to the village, and she’d refused to allow a healer or
anyone else to know she was giving birth. Delivering a baby without help was a dangerous ordeal, one that had taken her life.
At least that part of my father’s story had been close to the truth.
Inna had poured the last of her magic and her life into the binding on me. The final entries were written in a shaky hand
and both tears and blood had dried on the pages.
I closed the book.
Pain and fury fought for control, but one thing was perfectly crystal clear—Feylan Naeilir would die. I would end him, even
if it was the last thing I did. My mother hadn’t asked to be avenged, and in the last few entries she had actively pled against
it.
But vengeance would be mine.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Garrick asked, and I nearly jumped out of my skin.
He was sitting at the table with the basket of food. He had a pile of papers scattered in front of him. A glance at the window proved that it was full dark. How long had I been reading?
I tipped my chin up, prepared to fight. “I am going to kill the Blood King.”
Garrick considered me for a long moment, then asked, “Would you like help?”
I blew out a quivering breath as relief stole some of the pressure bearing down on me. “Yes, please.” I closed my eyes and
forced myself to reveal a portion of the pain contained within the pages. “Their relationship was not consensual—not on my
mother’s part.”
Garrick’s eyes darkened in fury, but he nodded. “I’ve wondered. There are precious few reasons to hide a child as well as
she did.”
“How long have you been there?” I asked. “Did you dismiss Viktor?”
“Hours, and yes. He offered to become part of your personal guard, so whatever you did made an impression.”
“He was nice.”
Garrick shook his head. “Etheri are very rarely ‘nice.’”
“Maybe they’re just not nice to you,” I murmured innocently. My heart still bled, but it was nice to be able to joke with
Garrick.
He smiled, and his expression softened. “Have you eaten?”
“No, and there’s enough food in there to feed an army. Let’s see what Ciacho packed for us, hmm?”
Garrick began unpacking the basket and after the third dish, he laughed and slanted an amused glance at me. “What did you
tell him, little mage?”
“Just that I needed enough food for the both of us because we weren’t going to be at the court dinner. Why?”
“Every single item in this basket is an aphrodisiac, either in truth or in theory.”
I groaned and buried my burning face in my hands.
“I didn’t tell him anything like that!” The thin veneer over the emotions roiling beneath the surface cracked, and I blew out a slow breath.
“I know I promised you tonight, but could we . . . not? Not tonight. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have read the journal first because now—”
“Riela,” Garrick interrupted, his voice infinitely gentle. “You don’t need a reason to say no. I will respect your decision,
whatever it is. Do you want me to leave?”
“I would rather not be alone,” I admitted softly.
“Whatever you need, little mage. I am here for you.”
Garrick fed me dinner, then snuggled into bed with me and held me close as nightmares hunted me. I woke several times to his
soothing whispers before drifting back into the dark. When the sun began to paint the sky in shades of purple and pink, I
eased back to awareness feeling safe and cared for.
Garrick pulled me closer and nuzzled his face into the back of my shoulder. “It’s not morning,” he mumbled. “You’re imagining
things.”
I was not imagining the hard press of his length into my bottom. I wiggled experimentally, and his groan deepened as his hips
thrust forward sharply before he got himself back under control.
But I didn’t want him under control. The grief was still there, but muted, and I wanted what his kiss had promised me yesterday.
I licked my dry lips. “Garrick, I’m going to go to the bathroom and brush my teeth, and then I’m going to get back in this
bed. Naked. In case you’d like to join me.”
His breath caught and his body tensed behind me. “Are you sure?” he asked. “We don’t need to rush.”
I winced. We kind of did need to rush, actually, since the Blood King was expecting me tomorrow, but I appreciated the sentiment. “I’m sure.”
He vanished so quickly that he must’ve stepped directly to his bathroom, and I laughed in delight even as my blood heated.
I retreated to my own bathroom and rushed through the necessary actions.
Garrick was already back in bed by the time I was done.
I paused at the edge of the mattress and summoned my courage. “I would like to attempt the betrothal bond with you, if you are still interested.”
“I never stopped being interested,” Garrick growled.
“What do I need to do?”
Garrick flung the sheets back, then patted the bed next to him. “Come here.”
He’d lost the undershirt he’d slept in, but he still wore a loose pair of silky trousers. They did nothing to conceal his
erection.
I drew the hem of my nightgown up and the entirety of his focus snapped to the rising fabric. He ground out a wordless sound
when it cleared my hips, then another one when it cleared my chest. I pulled it over my head and tossed it away.
Garrick’s eyes were glowing silver, but he just patted the bed again.
I crawled into place with deliberate slowness, then lay down next to him. One eyebrow rose a fraction before he moved over
me even more slowly than I had crawled across the bed. When his hips finally settled between my thighs, we both groaned.
I rocked up against him and the groan turned into a hiss before he pinned me more fully. “None of that, now, little temptress.
We need to talk first.”
“With you between my thighs?” I asked breathlessly.
A grin curled the corner of his mouth. “I’m perfectly comfortable.” He rolled his hips and my eyes nearly crossed from the
pleasure.
When I could form words again, I gasped, “What about talking?”
“Overrated.” He pulled himself together with a great deal of willpower. “Riela, will you enter into a betrothal bond with
me?”
“I will,” I whispered, and Garrick’s magic rose between us, gossamer thin.
“Once we achieve a high enough emotional state, our magic will snap into the bond, tying us together.” His grin took on a
wicked edge. “And if it doesn’t work the first time, we’ll just have to keep trying.”
I batted my eyes at him and patted his shoulder consolingly. “It’s okay if you need a few tries to get it right. Some people can’t find it at—”
The rest of my words were lost as his lips met mine, and his hips rolled again, pressing the hard length of his cock directly
against my clit. “Never mind,” I gasped into his mouth. “You found it after all.”
I bit his lip gently as pleasure rose in cascading waves—and he still had his trousers on. When his tongue slid against mine,
the magic between us trembled.
Then he moved lower, tracing kisses down my neck and over my collarbones. I held my breath as he circled my breast before
leaving the aching nipple alone and moving to the other side and repeating the action. “Garrick,” I growled, trying to move
his head or my hips or something to relieve the growing tension.
He looked up at me, intent and dangerous and devastatingly sexy. “Yes, my heart? Did you need something?”
“Mouth, nipple, now,” I demanded.
His grin was absolutely wolfish before he drew my nipple into the heat of his mouth and sucked on it while pinching its neglected
twin.
Pleasure drowned me and the bond snapped between us with a surge of magic. Garrick made a deeply satisfied sound before moving
down my body and burying his face between my thighs.
He held me open as he devoured me, and time lost all meaning. There was only Garrick and a pleasure so intense it bordered
on pain.
When I pulled his hair in wordless demand, he didn’t even take time to remove his trousers. He just pulled them down far enough
to free his cock, then he drove into me with a hard thrust that made my back arch and stars explode in my vision.
Garrick tensed and cursed, then the magic between us detonated as the bond deepened.
On his next thrust, I could feel his pleasure like it was my own. From his groan, he was getting the same treatment.
His body moved against me, and I hurtled toward release again. I rolled my hips with his rhythm, but it wasn’t quite enough. I slid my hand between us, and as soon as I touched my clit, we both cursed.
“How,” Garrick gasped, his words choppy with his heaving breath, “are you not touching yourself all the time if it feels that
good?”
I leaned up until I could whisper in his ear, “It feels better when your cock is buried in me.”
Magic exploded as Garrick and I tipped into bliss together, and the tsunami of our shared pleasure drowned out the world.
I slipped from consciousness with an exceptionally pleased smile on my face.