Stay With Me
SERAPHAE
The following morning found us in the royal library.
The section we stood in held old Primorian doctrines and tomes so aged they looked one breath from disintegrating.
Caelan pulled a volume from the top shelf, and a puff of dust followed.
I leaned against the ladder attached to the shelves and watched him.
“What are you looking for?”
“Forgotten loopholes.” He turned a page without looking up. “Ones that outlived overbearing advisors.”
“Loopholes for what?”
“Inconveniences.” Another page. “I seem to collect those.”
I dragged a finger through the dust on the nearest shelf and looked at the ink on my wrist. We hadn't discussed what the failed ritual meant. Caelan had moved through the morning as if nothing had changed. Maybe it hadn't. That was the point.
I didn't hear Caelan approach. When I looked up, he was already in front of me. His face inches away, eyes reading mine the way they always did. Like he could see through every crack I hadn't bothered patching.
“Nothing changes,” he said, meaning to reassure me but only doing the opposite.
I looked at his easy smile and leaned into the hand that cupped my cheek.
“That's the problem, isn't it?”
He closed the distance. “Not if you don't let it be.” A finger lifted my chin, and his lips pressed to mine. He pulled back and looked at me with a slow, devastating smile.
“I think you need a distraction.”
Heat bloomed before I could stop it.
“Wha—”
He kissed me hard, tongue slipping in to find mine. My hands found his chest and then his neck, and he pressed me back against the ladder.
His hands slid the ties of my dress off my shoulders, and the fabric fell. Cool air hit bare skin, and he kissed me until I was breathless, hands tangled in his hair.
He pulled back to look at me. “Hands above your head,” he said in the low tone that made rational thoughts temporarily unavailable.
I grabbed the rung above me with both hands. The stretch pulled at my chest and arched my back. Tendrils of shadow wound up the ladder and wrapped around my wrists, binding them to the rung. I gave it a testing pull and made a thoughtful sound when it held.
He stepped back and looked at me. His eyes raked over my bare breasts slowly.
“So fucking beautiful,” he said, almost reverent.
His hands cupped my breasts, thumbs drawing slow circles over my hardened nipples until sparks shot straight to my core and I squirmed against the ladder for something that wasn't there yet.
The moan that came out of me was way too loud for a library.
He kissed it off my lips with a low, possessive sound that vibrated against my lips. His fingers tugged at my nipple, and my hips bucked forward, looking for friction.
The ladder creaked. Dust sifted down from the shelves above.
His hand traveled down my stomach, under my skirt, tugging the fabric aside. He found me already soaked and exhaled against my throat like he was satisfied with himself.
Two fingers pushed inside me without warning, curling against that perfect spot. His palm pressed flat against my clit, grinding it with every slow thrust. Pleasure coiled tightly in my stomach with nowhere to release.
“Gods, please—”
The shadows tightened when I pulled against them.
Then the library doors opened.
Two sets of footsteps and voices murmuring about a forgotten book entered.
I went completely still, breath held, heart slamming against my sternum.
Caelan did not stop.
His mouth found my ear and nipped once, fingers still moving inside me as if he had not heard people come in.
“Think you can be quiet?” he whispered, voice dark and too pleased with himself.
He pressed his thumb to my swollen clit, mouth sucking the sensitive spot on my neck. Shivers traveled down my spine, and I bit the inside of my cheek before I made a sound.
The footsteps shuffled closer. The voices carried over in low conversation. Every nerve in my body was screaming. I was against a ladder with my wrists bound and my dress around my waist, and two servants just wanted a book.
A broken moan tried to escape me when he curled his fingers deeper.
His hand closed over my mouth, narrowly stopping the sound.
“Shhh,” he hushed against my ear. “Behave.” He continued thrusting . In, out, in, out. Slower now, quieter, no less devastating. The pleasure built harder for the threat of it. I was close, every muscle in my body was shaking.
The footsteps retreated and the door clicked shut.
He removed his hand from my mouth and kissed me so hard my head hit the rung behind it. His fingers picked up speed, thumb grinding without mercy, and I came apart with a sound I genuinely hoped did not carry to the corridor. Muffled and broken with his name in pieces.
He looked at me fondly.
I gathered what remained of my dignity and seriously considered punching him.
“Asshole,” I mumbled.
His grin deepened, and I watched as he dropped to his knees for the second time this week.
One hand hooked my leg over his shoulder, and my hand tugged on the restraint with the movement. His lips grazed the inside of my thigh, tongue tracing lazy patterns into the skin.
“You've got me on my knees, Sera.” His eyes lifted. “I'd give you my entire kingdom if you'd just ask.”
One finger hooked around my underwear and pulled them to the ground.
His tongue dragged up in one long, slow lick that made my whole body jerk.
He devoured me like a starved man, tongue lapping at my clit with just enough pressure.
Two fingers pushed back in and worked me in the same rhythm as his greedy tongue until I was begging without caring how desperate it sounded.
My knuckles were white on the rung above my head, and my leg over his shoulder tensed, heel digging into his back.
His mouth and hands left me all at once, and I whimpered in frustration.
I didn’t get a chance to protest. He rose and undid his trousers, and I had a moment to appreciate the view before he lifted my leg and lined himself up.
His eyes found mine and stayed as he pushed in with one stroke that buried him completely and knocked the breath out of me.
The stretch was exquisite and overwhelming, and I couldn't do anything except grip the rung and take it.
The groan that came out of him nearly pushed me to the edge.
This time, he didn’t set a pace that would ruin me. Somehow that felt more dangerous.
Instead, it was slow, deep, and everything I didn’t know I needed.
I felt every ridge of him against my walls. Each roll of his hips rose goosebumps across my skin. I took back everything I said about it not being ruinous immediately.
His eyes stayed on me the entire time.
“You’re so perfect like this,” he rasped. “You undo me, and I can’t get enough.”
His forehead dropped against mine.
Our skin was overheated. Sweat tracked down my chest and across his skin.
The shadows released my wrist. My hands found his neck, his face, and his mouth found mine.
We broke apart only when our lungs had complaints about air. His breath against my lips, the sounds we made echoing through the library.
There were words that wanted to be said. Had been behind my sternum for a while. I knew what they were now.
The slow rolls of his hips pulled me back into my body and the words slipped away before I could reach them.
I came apart with a prayer on my lips and my legs so weak the only thing that kept me upright was his arm around my waist.
He followed on the next thrust, burying deep with a low guttural sound, the bond flaring hot between us until we were both shaking and gasping and the ladder had seen enough.
He stayed buried, still pulsating inside me, and dropped his forehead to my shoulder, both of us wrecked.
I would have nearly melted to the ground in a heap of satisfaction if he hadn’t wrapped his arms around my waist.
He lifted his head and looked at me with complete sincerity. “I'd like to have this ladder installed in every room of the estate.”
I laughed. “Insufferable.”
When we were composed enough to leave, the library looked like a minor disaster. Dust settled in the candlelight. A few books had migrated to the floor.
We moved through the corridor as if we hadn't just defiled a room full of centuries-old doctrines.
I’m sure they survived worse.
We were crossing the courtyard when I stopped pretending I wasn't thinking about it.
The library was behind us, and with it, the distraction that had been effective at the time but was gone now.
The morning carried on and felt unreasonably ordinary.
The sun was wrong for it. The birds were too.
Everything continued at the same pace it always had as I walked beside the man I had once tried to kill.
The man I had bonded myself to and was still bonded to.
“What are we going to do now?”
Caelan stopped walking and turned.
He knew exactly what I was asking.
“Stay.”
The word hit somewhere I hadn't prepared for. Not because I didn't expect it but because of how he said it. One word, as simple and certain as it could be.
“Stay with me.” He stepped forward, and I let him cup my face with his hands in the middle of the courtyard.
“I would have wanted you to stay with or without the bond.
You don't have to go south. But if you want to, I won't stop you.” His thumb brushed my cheek.
“I'd like you to consider staying. And if you do—“ His eyes held mine.
“If you choose this, I promise you'll never regret it.”
The courtyard was quiet around us. The estate rising on one side, the city falling away below the other. And we stood between it all with the sky above Twilight in its permanent darkness.
I believed him.
Gods, I believed him. That was the whole problem and the answer all at once. I had spent weeks cataloging every reason it was impossible. The court. The fae laws. The wife he would be taking. I knew what the petitions were about and pretended not to.
Standing here with his hands on my face, I couldn't bring myself to care about a single one of those reasons.
South was still there. The dream was still there. But it was still just a direction a compass pointed. This was something else entirely. This could destroy me if I wasn't careful about it.
Caelan was going to ruin me, and yet I hoped he would do it thoroughly and completely.
I opened my mouth—
“Your Highness.”
We both turned.
A guard stood at the courtyard entrance with his head bowed. His pitch-black armor grim against the white stones. With stiff posture and an apologetic look, he strode urgently across the courtyard.
I stepped back. Caelan's hand fell.
The guard stopped before us and dipped his head. “The disturbances have escalated at town square.”
I looked at Caelan. “What disturbance?”
The guard's eyes moved to me briefly before dropping. “The protest, my lady.”
Caelan shot him a look. I was not supposed to know that.
I could tell by the way the guard suddenly found the cobblestones worthy of attention.
He had said escalated. Which meant it had been happening, and it had just gotten worse.
My stomach dropped.
Caelan turned and gave my hand a gentle squeeze. His expression was too composed.
“Why don't you find Brie?” he suggested.
My eyes met his.
He didn't look away. Didn't offer any explanation or pretend the guard hadn't just said what he said. But I knew what he wasn't telling me.
I smiled at Caelan first. It cost a piece of me to make. Then I smiled at the guard who still wouldn't look at me, which told me how bad it was.
“Of course,” I said.
The guard bowed and turned to leave. He hadn’t even made it across the courtyard when a courier appeared at the edge.
He was young, still catching his breath, with a sealed letter in his hand. He crossed toward us before extending the letter to Caelan. The dark red seal hit the afternoon light. A single crown with five points.
“Word from Crown, Your Highness,” he said, still breathless. “A royal envoy has been dispatched. They arrive by week’s end.”
My pulse thundered behind my ears. Crown was coming.
Caelan paused for a moment before he took the letter.
“His Majesty requires a judge be named before their arrival,” the courier added.
A judge. Not an advisor. Not a mediator.
Someone appointed with the authority to hold a formal hearing. Who would weigh evidence and deliver a verdict the Crown would recognize and enforce. A verdict that Caelan would have no control over because even though this was his kingdom, the realm belonged to the king.
This was a trial, and I already knew who it was for.
I looked at Caelan. Watched as the line of his jaw tightened while he read the letter.
The courtyard felt too quiet, too warm. Too wrong.
“Your Highness?” The courtier was still waiting. “Who shall I send word to?”
Caelan stayed quiet for too long, eyes fixed on the letter. Then, “Mallas.” He folded the letter, and glanced at the courier. “Send word to Winter.”
The courtier bowed and left.
He held the letter between his fingers and looked at me and smiled. It didn’t reach his eyes, and I wondered if he really thought I’d believe it.
“It’s fine,” he said, his tone too certain. I wasn’t sure if he was trying to convince me or himself. His eyes lingered for a moment, willing me to believe him.
“I know.” It came out too soft and without conviction.
He noticed, his smile faltered, and I hated that he noticed.
“I’m going to find Brie,” I attempted a smile that took more effort than I liked. “I’ll let you work.” I turned and walked out of the courtyard. My legs knew where they were going, which was helpful because the thinking part had stopped being useful.
Whether it was for the petitions filed by the advisors or for the rumors about Caelan’s loss of control, it still involved me. Crown had decided that the question of me and what I cost this kingdom was no longer a matter for Twilight to manage on its own.
I already knew the answer they were bringing with them.
I had been ready to say yes. The word had been right there and ready to be given.
But it looked like Primoria didn't care for my answer.
It already had one of its own.