Chapter Twenty-Nine – Scarlett #2
Roran himself sat at the centre of the table, his broad shoulders made even broader with furs, and his crimson tunic pinned with military medals.
He looked up, pinning me with those hateful, jade-green eyes.
A sudden sense of deja vu engulfed me – but I was no longer the girl Roran had terrorised, stepping into the great hall barefoot and freezing.
I was something else – something powerful. Like the ancient kings surrounding me.
I smiled at the thought. Ironically, it was thanks to Roran I had the ability to pose a threat to him. If it wasn’t for his attempt on my life, I wouldn’t have death magic churning in my veins.
Roran stood at my approach, and my gaze went to the empty seat at his right. But he motioned for Aric to join him, forcing me to claim the seat opposite. Still careful to keep his distance.
I watched my brother closely through all four courses.
He spent most of the time speaking with his generals, but he invited Aella into conversation just as often, flaunting her presence at his left side.
Dressed in a low-cut gown, with an ornate mask covering the upper half of her face, Aella couldn’t have looked more different to the demure attendant I had grown used to.
And it wasn’t just her appearance – it was the cunning smile that upturned her red lips, and the purring laughter that made it difficult to tell whether she was amused or mocking.
‘It isn’t poisoned,’ Roran said to me, taking note of my untouched plate.
I forced myself to take a bite of the succulent meat.
Roran looked away, apparently satisfied.
But I kept my attention on him, even as I smiled where I had to and engaged in conversation when required.
At one point, I thought I saw a familiar figure slip out of the hall – but she was gone too quickly to be sure, leaving me with only a glimpse of white-blonde hair.
Was it possible that Mira had sent Odessa to keep an eye on me?
Given her Mask training, she was a logical choice. But I would have expected Mira to baulk at the idea of sending anyone to the Kalurian palace – especially after Roran had slaughtered her spies in particularly messy ways.
When the banquet was finally over, Aric escorted me back to my chambers. Even though it was better not to confirm our romantic connection in front of Roran’s guards, I allowed him to follow me inside.
Brutal and awful though the scar was, it did nothing to diminish Aric’s attractiveness. If anything, my attraction towards him had increased. Along with my respect.
Not just for the way he had unflinchingly faced down Roran – but also for the way he had handled seeing Mira again. I hadn’t even needed to consider using his blood ruby against him.
Part of that was due to his determination to protect Lillian, of course, but I liked to think he was genuinely devoted to me as his future empress. That he believed in what I could accomplish if I ever had the power to make my own choices.
It was just a pity that a river of blood needed to be spilled first.
‘Do you regret it?’ I asked him quietly, and I knew Aric understood that I wasn’t referring to the clansmen. Killing the Kalurian warriors hadn’t bothered me; I wouldn’t have been able to get to Mira otherwise, and I couldn’t have dispatched one of them without silencing them all.
But the men, women and children in the village below . . .
‘There was nothing we could have done to save them.’ Aric’s voice was heavy but resigned. ‘We couldn’t have stood against Roran’s Warriors. Not without Mira and the shifters behind us, and there was no way we could have made an alliance before the killing started.’
That was true enough. And Roran would have sent his Warriors after Mira regardless, even if Aric and I had refused. A refusal that would have cost us our lives.
‘Once Roran is dead,’ I ventured, watching Aric closely, ‘Mira will become a threat to me. You saw how close she came to ending my life.’
He was silent for a long time. ‘I know.’
Do you? I almost asked him. Could you really stand by and watch Mira die? Could you stand by and watch me kill her?
‘I serve you now,’ was all Aric said – not quite an answer, but close enough.
I traced his scar with my eyes as he undid the laces of my dress, careful to keep my death magic contained within me. Shielding Aric from the poison only I could survive.
He pulled me closer, his lips moulding perfectly with mine. But when he steered us towards the bed, I forced myself to think of all the secrets between us – and the cost of keeping them.
Tell him , I told myself. Tell him now.
But there was something so painfully tender about the way he looked at me. And then his eyes darkened, and I knew that the bruise on my cheek was visible.
‘I’ll kill him for you,’ Aric promised, cupping my face in his hands. ‘For you – and for Kain.’
He claimed my lips once more, and I kissed him back just as hungrily, pulling him down on top of me.
My nails raked possessively down his back, and my arms strained to hold him close even though I knew I would soon need to let him go. Perhaps he knew it too, because I tasted desperation in his kiss.
Though whether that desperation was for me . . .
My eyes narrowed as I noticed his were closed. Perhaps in the passion of the moment–
Or perhaps because he wasn’t thinking about me at all.
The death in my veins surged – begging to be released. Eager to lash out, to–
A chill that had nothing to do with the magic darted down my spine. No , I told the power within me.
Hooking my leg under Aric’s, I shifted our positions so that I was on top. His eyes reopened and I allowed myself a small smile of satisfaction as I kissed my way down the chiselled V of his abdomen and lower, kissing and licking and–
At the first stroke of my hands, Aric’s head fell back against the pillows. His groan was low – guttural. It reverberated through me, all the way down to my throbbing core. And the death in my veins quietened.
There was something thrilling about watching Aric come undone. Maybe it was because of how strong and capable he was, but whatever the reason, I delighted in being the one to dismantle his composure.
Sex was just another form of warfare, after all. It was all about understanding your opponent.
And I understood Aric very well.
A shudder went through his body as my tongue–
‘Gods, your mouth,’ he rasped. ‘Scarlett–’
I pulled back slightly, raising my gaze to his. ‘Yes?’ I asked innocently, delighting in the expression on his face. The knowledge that he was entirely focused on me. As he should be .
Without warning, Aric flipped me back onto the bed.
‘My turn.’ His voice was low with promise.
Another delightful advantage of having Aric for a lover: he preferred to be the one pleasuring me.
The material of my dress ghosted over my skin as Aric lifted my skirts, the press of his fingers against my thighs making me shiver.
He touched me lightly at first, teasing strokes that made me shift with impatience. And then–
Pleasure and heat sparked within me at the first teasing flick of his tongue.
This time, I was the one threading my fingers through Aric’s ebony hair, as much for his sake – there was nothing men liked better than to know their efforts were appreciated – and because I suddenly desperately needed something to hold onto. Gods, it was too much.
He was too much. Too wonderful, too consuming.
Rapture beckoned, but I kept my eyes open, watching Aric’s face, committing everything to memory – the maddening pleasure of his mouth, the feeling of his strong hands parting my thighs, the fierceness in his dark eyes as he looked at me. It was all precious.
And it was infinitely sweeter knowing that every caress, every kiss, every brush of our bodies, could be our last.