Chapter 33
MATTHIAS
I can’t confirm where my son is, but I can assure you that his betrothal to Lady Bethany will be officially announced on his return. It’ll give us something to look forward to when this mess is finally sorted.
— A LETTER FROM LORD ROSSING TO SIR HARTSWELL, LADY BETHANY’S FATHER
Witnessing Sorrow’s hips loosen under my touch was a revelation.
I twirled her, once, twice, delighting in her squeal as I pulled her in, wrapping one hand around her waist, clutching her hand with the other as we swayed to the music.
There were no little dents marring her forehead this evening.
Her smile eclipsed the moon. I pressed a kiss to her temple, breathed her in.
Her hair, always as wild as her soul, fell in rebellious waves.
The dancing brought colour to her cheeks as she locked her gaze on me.
‘Gods,’ she said, wrapping her arms around my neck, ensnaring me with those golden eyes. ‘Do you remember those damned dancing lessons we were forced into as children?’
I laughed, nuzzling her neck and relishing her little sigh as my lips brushed that spot.
‘I actually quite enjoyed them.’
‘You would,’ she said as the fiddler’s tempo increased and the yard reverberated to the thunder of stamping boots. ‘You loved any excuse to show off.’
‘Still do,’ I said into the shell of her ear. ‘I’m rather hoping I’ll finally impress you when we return to our room.’
Her eyes darkened. ‘As much as I hate stoking the flames of your ego, Elmswood, that little trick on the rock was the most impressive sensation of my life.’
I hardened at her words and pressed her closer. Damn it. I wanted to dance all night, but right now, there was only one thought on my mind.
‘How about we slip away?’ I lowered my voice, closing my eyes as she shivered in my arms. ‘Strip that dress from those—’
‘Bloody animal!’ A crash grabbed our attention. The fiddle squeaked as her wolf padded off, dragging the entire roasted hog with him.
‘Damn dog,’ Sorrow said, slipping out of my grip. ‘I’ll sort this.’
‘Sorrow!’
She turned. Placed a kiss on my lips, ‘I can’t let that man hurt him. Poor beast is hungry.’
She disappeared into the crowd as I shook my head.
‘Fuck me, I’ve adopted a wolf.’
The fiddler started again, and I dived out of the way as Skye swung past me. She squeezed my hand before her partner spun her away.
A partner who wasn’t my captain.
I glanced around the yard. The chairs were pushed to the edges and guests huddled together with the one drink we’d been permitted.
A knot tightened in my guts at the thought of how short-lived this celebration would be with all we faced.
Raine, standing alone in a corner, had warned we’d need a straight head tomorrow.
Someone really should have told Hawk that as he stomped on a crate, clutching his bottle in the way the pious hold Evella’s words.
As though he sensed my gaze, he halted, saluted me.
I scowled as he laughed and turned away.
I scanned the yard as revellers bounced into me, either offering congratulations or complaining about what a waste of time it was.
Asher stood against a post, nursing his solitary drink, his gaze flickering over to where a wide-eyed Skye accepted the hand of Sorrow’s Deviant for her next dance.
I grabbed a second drink. Hang Raine, it was my wedding night – again – and pushed through the dancers till I stood by my captain’s side.
‘My king!’ A smile that didn’t quite match his eyes slid on his face. ‘Lost your wife already?’ He tipped the glass towards me. ‘In all fairness, you’ve lasted at least twenty minutes longer than I thought you would.’
‘Ha, ha,’ I said, settling on the other side of the pole as his eyes flickered up, scouring the dancers till he found Skye. ‘No, that… wolf of hers ran off with the roasted hog. I think she’s gone to carve it into smaller pieces for him.’
He barked out a laugh, met my gaze. ‘You know I love you, my king?’
‘It’s impossible not to. Though I have to break it to you. I’m a married man.’
‘And I’m hoping you stay that way.’
I took a long swig. ‘In other words, don’t mess up.’
He sighed. ‘No, Matthias. You’ll fuck up. Of course you will. As I will, as Sorrow will, as every person here will. But for the love of Evella, stop bearing the burden of it alone.’
Raine walked past, raising a pale brow at my cup.
They’d barely communicated with anyone since learning about Mother, throwing themselves into the organisation as though they could forget how much they’d loved her.
My mind still wondered about how long their relationship had existed before Father’s fall from grace.
Had he known? Had that been yet another dagger in the king’s bruised side?
I watched them, suddenly realising I no longer wanted the answer.
Asher followed the direction of my stare.
‘You are not defined by the legacy of Raul.’ I closed my eyes, swallowed against the lump in my throat.
‘You’re a king in your own right. You’re not his mistakes.
Raul decided to follow the righteous line.
Refused to allow others to fall with him and yes, it made him all the more noble, but he found no joy in that.
He lost his honour, his right to his children and eventually…
’ He glanced over to Raine. ‘His wife. I was there, training how to guard. I watched them drift apart. She fought for you. All of you. I didn’t realise it was possible to see someone’s heart shatter time and time again.
But your father, he accepted it. Took the brunt on his shoulders, hiding in his rooms till there wasn’t a king or a man.
A hollow husk who refused to sit on his own throne.
‘And although I’m still pissed you never told me how Ifan tricked you. I don’t want to see another Elmswood fade into oblivion because he refuses to share the weight of his crown. So, when the inevitable happens and you fuck up, at least tell us so we can help sort it out?’
I smiled, held out my hand. ‘My wife has already mentioned this as an area in need of dire improvement.’
His laugh was cut short as Skye, red-faced and bright-eyed, skipped past again, Hawk pulling her close before another handsome young man claimed her hand.
‘And you?’
‘I’m ready to hold my hands up, my king. This is not my first drink.’
I clinked our wooden cups together. ‘Me either. But I meant, why aren’t you dancing and, more importantly, why aren’t you dancing with my sister?’
Asher shrugged his shoulders, for once stripped of words.
His love for his father had prevented him from admitting his feelings.
The familiar squirm erupted in my chest. I’d planned to remove the arcane rules around inheritance; it wasn’t as if people hadn’t cheated in the past and adopted a child to keep their deeds in their own hands.
But that would never be possible for Asher and Skye.
I despised the archaic rule. If a couple chose a child to love and cherish, why did that differ to a child born into the family?
It had never made sense, but I held back on my decision.
My sister deserved a man who’d fight, who’d defy Vyrus for her and until Asher became that man, I’d hold back.
As much as I knew the key to her happiness lay within, I wanted to be certain that Ash was truly worthy of her.
She’d been through too much to settle for less.
As her new partner pulled her close, Skye glanced back over her shoulder, her smile fading as her gaze locked on Asher.
‘For one,’ Asher said, knocking back the last of his bitter ale. ‘I can’t get a look in. Every man here wants to dance with her.’
‘And still, I think there’s only one she wants as her partner.
’ He squirmed, his gaze straying over to the rebel who was trying, and failing, to ensure all the guests only had a solitary celebratory drink.
I raised my own drink to my mouth. I was fed up with him leading my sister on if he had no intentions of loving her.
‘Though as much as I adore and admire him, I do wonder sometimes if he deserves someone like Skye.’
His jaw tensed. ‘He probably doesn’t.’
‘Damn it, man, tell her then. Give her the chance to get over you and find someone who does.’
‘But…’ He followed her as she danced, rare tears shining in his dark eyes. ‘The thought of her with someone else. It…’
‘This isn’t fair to her.’
‘I know.’ He stood straighter, heaving in a breath as she watched him.
‘We could all be nothing but dust and bones in the next few weeks. Can you at least give her a chance of happiness? Could you—’
‘You’re right.’ He shoved his empty cup into my hand. ‘If there’s one person who deserves happiness in this world, it’s her.’
Shit, she’d be devastated. I’d hoped my words would rile something in Asher, but as he strode through the dancers, perhaps it was for the best. Skye spotted Ash weaving his way towards her and halted.
Her partner tried to take her hand, but she pushed him away.
Gods, the smile that lit up her face. It’d kill me to watch it crumple as Asher finally let her go.
I started pressing through. As much as I wanted to take Sorrow back to our room, I was Skye’s brother and I’d be there when her world fell apart.
But then—
I stopped, angering a couple who slammed into me as I barked out a laugh. Asher cupped Skye’s face, her green eyes widened as he spoke, his mouth a breath away from hers. Was he…? She nodded, her smile splitting her face as her arms wrapped round his neck and damn it…
‘He’s kissed her!’
For a few moments, I watched as my best friend and sister kissed, slow and gentle. Another pair of dancers giggled as they narrowly missed me.
I shuddered and turned away, desperate to find Sorrow and tell her.
‘Ew,’ I said, looking over the bouncing heads in search of my wife. ‘That’s my sister.’