Chapter 37
There is a balance to the sisters’ magic, but the Three Kingdoms threaten to teeter in one’s favor.
— ALARIC SARE’S PAPERS FOR EMBERLINE ARKOVA
The date was set.
If we took Elias’s words at face value, he warned that if we didn’t attack within two days, we shouldn’t bother doing so at all. We messaged Reid immediately through Harrow, but we had the same circular discussion a dozen times on the return trip to the Storm.
“It has to be a trap, right?” Alysa asked. “They’ll know now about your secret entrance into the city.”
“I don’t know,” Hart replied through gritted teeth.
“If that were his plan, why not have guards capture Hart then and there? Why prolong it?” I asked.
None of us had good answers. My gut said that, for whatever reason, Elias had chosen to help his brother.
I didn’t have to know why. It didn’t even have to make sense.
Maybe Elias thought this was all in his own best interest somehow.
The reason might help us sleep better, but the information itself was enough to go on.
As with many things in this game of goddesses, if we wanted to change things in Kavios, we had little choice but to act.
Early the next morning, Reid sent a reply saying a mole had been identified and dealt with.
Nissa, the woman who’d spoken so harshly of Hart’s control over me, had been seen meeting with Vaddon in an alley on Cross Street.
He also said they would muster the Feared in the required time.
The shortened window wasn’t ideal, but Reid seemed to understand that it was now or never.
In a way, Elias’s message helped us stay ahead of this leak.
We had discussed a joint attack to be planned in five days, not two.
Though Rodric knew we were here, that we had to be planning something, any information Vaddon had collected last night was already irrelevant.
Hart and I slipped away when we returned. We hiked to the copse of trees where we’d spent the prior afternoon. In the morning, we’d finish the trip to Charon’s cave. He deserved a chance to participate. He had as much, if not more, motivation to dethrone Rodric than the rest of us.
I felt greedy for Hart as I curled into him with only a shared bedroll and blanket between us.
“Do we have a chance?” I cupped his cheek with my ungloved hand.
Part of me wished so desperately that he could take my fear.
Alysa and a few of the Storm had filled our adamas stones.
Hart and I were still unable to take from each other or anyone else.
“A chance, absolutely. But nothing more is ever known in a battle of this scale. Even if we do have the element of surprise, Rodric still has a hundred Blessed guards, and a hundred more Blessed to be called in should need arise.”
All with adamas. All capable of wielding the stone’s magic.
Our experience with an attack in the Oldwood when I was Jeweler said that the Blessed not serving as guards were not as dangerous as we might think.
Many weren’t used to wielding magic in a fight.
They preferred to overpower those helpless around them.
If we made it a real fight, with both the Feared and Storm pushing back on the exploitation of humans in Kavios, things might not be so much in the Blessed’s favor.
Hart’s words did little to soothe my fear, but I liked hearing them anyway.
“What are you afraid of, Chaos?” Hart whispered into the inches that separated us. He could still taste my fear, even if he couldn’t take it.
As with all of Hart’s questions, it was the right one to ask. I wasn’t truly afraid of Rodric, or of his Blessed. I feared what failure would mean for those who joined us. “How many will die for this?”
Hart didn’t respond quickly. He considered the question.
“The Feared would have led an attack with less chance of success on their own. They have decided to give their lives for this. Like some of those you spoke with in the tavern, they want a better life for those they love. They are willing to sacrifice for it.”
“Does that absolve us of responsibility for their safety?”
His finger stroked my cheek. “They didn’t ask us to keep them safe. They asked us to change the tide of Kavios. Every one of them was given a choice. Especially the Storm. Those who go with us want to fight for a path to return to the city they called home.”
The heat of our connection flared, although the casual, almost lazy drag of his finger against my skin had a calming magic of its own. In the safety of his touch, I offered him one of my truths. “I fear for the time we may never get.”
Hart’s gaze met my own. “We were never guaranteed time together, Chaos. In fact, we were guaranteed to be adversaries. We defied expectations and fought for every moment together so far. This changes nothing.” He pressed his lips briefly to mine.
“We’ve made the most of the time we have. I, for one, will continue to do so.”
The brush of his lips wasn’t enough. I pulled him closer, demanding more.
The slide of his tongue against mine as I opened to him set my body aflame.
In this same copse of trees, I had decided to seize the time we had.
Our future was still shrouded in uncertainty.
We still didn’t know if we could free Hart from Themis.
If Rodric truly sought to become Themis’s Champion somehow, we had even more to fear.
The Blessed were Rodric’s creation when he’d sought to serve Themis.
What horrors would he create if he were truly her tool, ruled by the whispers of the throne?
Hart bit my lip. “Are you with me, Chaos?”
With one look into those forest green eyes, I returned. Hart was here. He was mine. We would make the most of the time we had. And we would fight for a better Kavios to call home.
I kissed him again. My lips traced his jaw, his neck. His hands were in my hair as he told me he loved me. He’d worship me every chance he had. And that a lifetime together wouldn’t feel like enough.
He rolled me onto my back as I helped him peel his tunic from his sculpted chest. Even in the dark, I could appreciate the view.
“You have no idea what you do to me,” he whispered as he captured my lips in another kiss. I soaked in the contact and reveled in every place our skin touched. Our connection burned through whatever fate should have separated us.
His mouth moved to my breast, drenching my blouse with his attention.
I lifted my arms, and he pulled it free.
His tongue and teeth worked together on the peaked tip.
My back arched, and he wrapped an arm beneath me.
His broad frame surrounding me only made me want more.
More of him. More of this. More of us. A throaty moan slipped free as his teeth toyed with me.
“That’s it.” He caught the sound with another kiss, his calloused hands palming my breasts where his mouth had been. “Give me the noises only I can draw forth.”
He kissed my neck and reached for the hem of my skirt, pulling it up. A whimper escaped me as his fingers toyed with my undergarments, already wet with my desire for him.
“So ready for me.”
“Hart,” I whined. It only brought that wicked smirk to his lips.
“Yes, Chaos?” He removed the final barriers between us, but his fingers still circled, never granting me the pressure I sought. I wiggled beneath him, but his hips kept me in place. “Ask, love.”
“Touch me.”
He laughed low. His fingers skimmed my skin. “I am.”
“Hart,” I breathed, unable to focus as he stroked me and my hips lifted to chase the contact.
“I can do this all night, love. In fact, nothing would give me more pleasure.”
That smoky flavor touched my tongue with his next stroke. Heat built even though he denied me the steady friction I demanded.
“What do you need?” he whispered, his fingers circling again.
A lot of things, really. The fight to end. Humans to have safety in the kingdom. Hart to be free of Themis. To challenge what is known.
Hart shook his head as if sensing my thoughts. I guessed he could taste the saltiness of my anxiety on his tongue. “Not them. You. What do you need?”
“I need you to touch me.”
His finger plunged into my heat with my focus. “Good.”
“I need you to make me come.”
My reward was immediate as another finger joined the first. “Anything else?”
“I need you inside of me.” I glanced down to where the outline of his straining cock pressed against his trousers. “Soon.”
With the word, his thumb finally—finally—pressed against my clit. I bucked and moaned as that smirk curled his lip and he pushed me to my edge.
“That’s it.” He whispered soft praises with the sounds that escaped my lips—each more undignified than the last—as my back bowed and my toes curled and I came apart beneath him.
I pulled him to me, my lips searching for his, my hands reaching for him.
His forest green gaze held mine. Whatever he saw there, he no longer made me wait.
Bliss cascaded through my body as he brought us together.
It wasn’t just heat that sizzled through me with our connection but that sweet, bubbly feeling in the back of my throat with his every stroke, every kiss, every touch.
Hart’s joy was effervescent. And he found it even in the midst of …
everything. The taste of it reminded me that I could do the same.
Each thrust brought us closer. Each lingering kiss told a story of longing. And each slide of his hands along my curves said worship was his only goal. He didn’t worship a goddess. He didn’t worship a game. He worshipped flesh and blood—mine.
Pleasure rocked my body a second time. The feeling surged through me.
I slackened even as my grip tightened on Hart with his last steady strokes.
He followed with a groan, my name on his lips and my hands pulling him closer, demanding no space between us, demanding we savor every moment together that we could steal.
The sun would rise soon enough, and with it, our responsibilities. Tonight was ours.
He must have sensed the smoky taste of my lust. “I’m here for you, Chaos. I follow you.”
The first time he’d said such things to me, I hadn’t understood. Now, no other response would have felt right. I smiled up at him, bringing his lips to meet mine, my only response between lingering kisses, “I hoped you’d say that.”
Charon looked as if he’d been expecting us as we approached the cavern the next morning. He almost paced the opening, his wings tucked, but he stretched his neck from side to side as if with indecision.
“Finally, Champion. I was considering coming to find you.”
“What is it?” I asked.
He glared at Hart, as if whatever bothered him was and always would be the fault of the Cursed King. “You can’t feel the shift in the magic?”
I shook my head and glanced at Hart. He looked pensive, waiting.
“Chaos’s magic … lessens,” he grunted. “I don’t know how else to explain it.”
“You feel her magic less?”
His head dipped, the early-morning sunlight glinting off his dark scales, giving the movement an intimidating glow. “I’m surprised you two can’t feel it.”
“We’re not exactly flush with the goddess’s magic at the moment,” Hart said.
He was right. We’d been very disconnected from it since we completed the emotional trials. “What about tasting each other’s emotions? That hasn’t changed.”
Charon huffed, looking as if he rolled his eyes at us. “That is your own, but that’s not the point right now. The scales tip in Themis’s favor.”
“What does that mean?” I asked.
Hart balled his hands into fists at his sides. “I’m sure it’s my father’s doing. I wish I’d had more time with that stupid book.”
It was another boon from Elias that Hart had even had moments to skim it.
My time with the prince had led me to believe he knew how to put on a show.
He conducted the city’s ceremonies. He celebrated their good fortunes and took their sadness, but the conversations Hart reported hinted at desperation.
“What do we know?” I ran through my thoughts aloud. “They found a way to make your father Themis’s Champion. They think they can replace you.”
“They must be taking steps, the same way you complete your trials with the pendant.”
I nodded. “It doesn’t matter what they’re doing, just that we have to take the throne ourselves before they complete their tasks.”
“What about freeing the Cursed from Themis?”
I glanced at Hart. “I’ve been thinking. So long as we prevent Rodric from having uncontested control of the throne when he completes his scheme, I’m not sure it’s a bad thing. If he makes himself Themis’s Champion, Hart would no longer be.”
Charon huffed smoke. Hart grunted. “That’s a fine line to dance.”
“Isn’t all of this?”
Hart grunted again, though it seemed to be in agreement this time.
“What about the final trial? What about choice?”
“I haven’t dismissed that. But we won’t be able to try anything until we’re in the throne room. Which is what we came to discuss. Elias told us that Rodric would attempt to become Themis’s Champion tomorrow.”
We’d since learned that it was a celebration for the Blessed. One of Rodric’s regular gatherings for his favored at the castle. It wasn’t ideal to attack Glanmore Castle while it was filled with those who could wield adamas, but again, we had little choice.
“So tomorrow is when we move?”
As much as I wanted Charon to have his revenge, as much as I wanted his help shifting the balance of power in Kavios, I wished that this uncertainty when it came to all we had to do in the throne room didn’t fill me with trepidation.
I swallowed my fear and nodded. “Yes, we’re attacking tomorrow, the Storm and the Feared in two contingents. We came to ask if you would join us.”
Charon’s growl was low. “Had you any doubt that I would? I’ll do what is necessary to remove Rodric from power. And you seem to have forgotten that you need me in the throne room to finish these trials of yours.”
Dread sloshed in my stomach as much as warmth flooded through me with his words. I needed Charon there, just as Scarlett had indicated. The choice we had to make required both a dragon and the throne, and we only had one dragon.