Chapter 27
MATTHIAS
I wonder sometimes if my line is cursed.
I cannot sit on my throne. I cannot meet my wife’s gaze.
They’ve scattered my children across the continents.
And I, I feel my heartbeat waver with each breath.
I fear I placed too much on Matthias’s shoulders.
I fear I’ve cursed my boy. Doomed his reign before he claims the crown.
Visions haunt me. His death. His soul damned. And it’s all my fault.
— PERSONAL JOURNALS OF KING RAUL ELMSWOOD
Visions swamped my mind. The sharp crack of a skull. Hot blood. A silent scream as Sorrow clawed at the fervent undead. I grasped blindly, desperate to stay with Sorrow, needing her to look my way just one more time. My head slammed back as Mother screamed.
Mum…
My eyes flew open, sweat coating my face. A wet tongue, hot, rough, licked my face and I turned to find a wolf, sniffing my ear. I shoved the stinking cloak away.
I dragged in a breath, fighting the crushing of my lungs.
Prickles filled my body as I recalled all that had happened.
Sorrow had held me up as I staggered through a nightmare.
My pounding head was unable to focus on anything but the woman at my side, her wolf bumping my hip, keeping me upright.
I’ve no idea how long we walked, only that my Sorrow had the ruby.
The ruby my father had once gifted Mother.
If I kept my eyes closed, if I remained in the dark, then it would never be true. It couldn’t be true.
Mother. A woman so fierce, so strong. Gone. I held the air in my lungs, refused to let it out, savouring the burn. She’d never wrap me in her arms again. I’d never kiss her soft hair. How would I tell Skye? Raine?
Would they blame me as I blamed myself? The final words I’d signed to Raine. Tell Mother Ifan is there. She can help him. My chest heaved.
Sorrow burrowed in closer to the crook of my neck, and I glanced down.
Safe. Her soft breaths whispered against my jaw and I stilled.
I daren’t exhale in case I broke this moment.
I twisted, burning with the need to see her, rid my mind of the blood-soaked images.
The golden light of dawn shone on her face, lighting up the perfect planes of her glowing skin.
Despite the pain in my heart, I couldn’t hold back the smile as she snuggled in closer.
The warmth of her body soothing my aches as though she truly was a healer.
Sleep always softened her. My Sorrow, my matching soul, wore a constant scowl.
I adored the little furrows by her brows, the inferno that raged in those warm brown eyes.
She burned with a rage the sun envied. But now, with her perfect mouth opened a touch, the lines about her eyes smooth and clear, she existed in a rare peace.
My gaze dipped down to her lips as I recalled the effect they had on mine and shrugged against the tightness in my trousers.
Gods, to think we’d only shared our bodies once.
All those months when I’d fought back the urge to run to her had been pure torture.
Above us, a blackbird trilled and Sorrow shuffled.
The all-familiar furrow appeared on her forehead.
My trembling fingers smoothed them. Her eyes cracked open, and a half-smile tugged my lips as she blinked, yet to focus.
Then the smile slid away. I’d forgotten. She was pissed at me. So very pissed. Her brown eyes locked onto mine with a flash, warning me I was about to be served my arse.
‘Sorrow. Can I just say—’
Her mouth crashed against mine and I groaned, cupping her jaw, returning her warm kiss with the hunger of a man starved.
Her lips, soft, always so damned soft, moved against mine.
Her sweet breath, hot against my mouth. Her teeth dug into my bottom lip, tugging gently and my cock twitched. Gods, this woman.
‘Matthias.’ The sound of my name on that beautiful mouth of hers undid me.
I tilted her head, dragged my teeth down the column of her neck, the corner of my mouth curling as a moan rumbled through her.
I’d learnt the exact spot she adored to be kissed, just under her ear, my tongue licking, teeth biting.
Her fingers drove into my hair. I moaned, my trousers growing uncomfortably tight as she gripped my waves, wrenching me back.
Her other hand snaked around my back as I grasped her body, pulled her closer, relishing her softness.
My breath quickened as I traced her curves, the rounded hips, her gasp as I dug into her ass.
Dragging her closer, needing her more than air, her hands slipped under my tunic.
I shivered as she traced the line of my too-tight trousers, barely able to breathe as she skimmed my hip, round to my back, groaning as—
‘Stupid man!’ She pulled back, her fist slamming into my chest. ‘You stupid, stupid man.’
She sat up, crossing her legs as her head crashed into her hands, heaving back sobs. I closed my eyes. I’d caused this. As much as I needed her touch to keep my pain at bay, I remained where I sat. The wolf nuzzled her cheek; his amber eyes locked on mine as he offered her the comfort I couldn’t.
‘Sorrow.’
She dropped her clenched fists as her wolf whined. With her eyes closed, she heaved in a huge breath, exhaled slowly before raising her chin and setting her gaze of steel on mine.
‘I’m so sorry,’ I said.
Heaving in a deep breath, Sorrow lifted the ruby on the blood-stained chain from her neck. Cupping it within her palms, she turned her gaze to mine.
‘You’re safe. For the time being,’ she said. Her thumb brushed the ruby and she shivered before placing it in her pocket, as though she wished to keep it secret. ‘And I’m truly safe with you now.’
I laced my fingers through hers, noting how loose she kept her grip.
‘You’ve forever commanded my heart, Villente.’ I grinned as she rolled her eyes.
‘Can I… can I see it?’
I narrowed my gaze.
‘The tattoo.’
I nodded, wondering how she’d react to find the empress had added to their number in her desire to master me.
I struggled to breathe as she settled next to me, her gaze on my lower hip.
‘May I?’ Her hand hovered by the hem of my top. I nodded.
I resisted the urge to shiver as she lifted the top, her breath caressing my waist as she moved closer.
Her fingers traced the design, flames igniting under her soft touch. ‘Cariad. The rune you put on yourself. It means cariad in the old language.’
‘Love.’ I didn’t know much of the old tongue, but I knew that one.
She outlined the inked whorls. My stomach tightened as she traced it, slowly, achingly slowly.
‘I suppose it’s sweet you chose that.’ Her clipped tone showed how pissed she still was. I reached round, grabbed her hand.
‘Sorrow, I didn’t choose it.’
‘Ifan did then. I—’
‘No.’ I grabbed her hand. Looked her deep in those brown eyes.
‘I told you I only had one drink.’ Damn woman rolled her eyes.
‘And I swear it was one. Surely you know how desperate I was to be with you. To love you. I had one drink, and then…’ A muscle in her jaw ticked.
‘I woke up the next morning on my front. Ifan sat there, sober as a Sister on Blessing Day, a huge smirk on his face. Thanking me, actually thanking me, for agreeing to the tattoo.’
She glanced down, her hand curling around mine, and I swallowed. Gods, I should have told her the truth sooner.
‘There was something in the drink he gave me. I’m certain of that now.
When I swore I wouldn’t get the tattoo, I meant it.
I knew when I awoke, he’d taken away my choice.
I’d never do that, Sorrow.’ She closed her eyes, and I lay my hand against her jaw.
‘He’s my brother. When he said I’d drunk too much, I knew something wasn’t right, but I didn’t want to see any wrong in him.
Didn’t want to think he’d turn on me. And yes, I should have told you. I had so many chances, but…’
Gods, the words built, pressing against my ribs as she opened her eyes, tears shining, and keeping them within was no longer an option. I owed her the truth.
‘I knew it was a disaster. I’d no idea just how bad, but I-I fuck up all the time, Sorrow.
And all I want is to make you happy. Make you proud of your husband and not think I’m some idiot who never thinks anything through.
Telling you was an admission of yet another failure.
And it’s the failure, Sorrow. It follows me.
The ghostly shape of my father constantly on my shoulder, digging in frigid claws and dragging me down.
Each step I take as a king echoes his path.
A shared destination. Failure. Ruination.
’ I swallowed, unable to meet her gaze as her fingers clutched mine.
‘I’m scared. Scared of being my father. Of failing those I love.
And I have. Ifan. You.’ I dragged in a shattered breath. ‘Mum.’
‘You…’ She turned my face so all I could see was her. ‘Don’t you ever blame yourself for that. It’s me, Matthias. My gift.’
Sorrow’s voice broke as she gripped her chest. For a moment I stared, unsure why Sorrow would lay the blame at her feet. I grabbed her hand. Panic flooding me. A wonder she may be. But she was also a Deviant.
‘The balance?’ I took her hand, laced my fingers with hers as she nodded.
‘I think… the wolf… the feral wolf…’
Gods. I pulled her close. How could she think that was her fault? After all she’d been through, all she faced and still she worked to master these gifts.
‘But you don’t know, Sorrow. You don’t.’ Her eyes closed. ‘I can’t pretend to understand all you face, each battle you endure, but I know your heart, Sorrow. And I know it burns with kindness and justice. If anything, Mother…’ The pain lodged in my throat. ‘Her death was my fault.’
Her eyes narrowed. ‘I’ll be the first to point out your flaws, but even I’m struggling to work that one out.’