20. Keira
A ldrin pulls me through a doorway into one of the many narrow tunnels, then slams my back against the wall.
The soft network of roots that coats it cushions the impact.
His lips are on me within a heartbeat, trailing up my neck from my collarbone to behind my ear, his stubble lightly scratching against the tender flesh.
I gasp for air, running my hands down the muscled planes of his back, feeling each one ripple beneath my touch, until I grab his ass.
I have needed his closeness so badly. Our mate bond has given us the intimacy of the mind and emotions, sharing almost everything while we were apart, but this —no tricks with magic can compete with having his body wrapped around mine.
I smile as his hardness grows and presses into my stomach.
It is empowering, to have such an effect on him.
I writhe to drag friction across it. Pure elation fills me as his powerful body jerks under my control and I try to weave a hand between our tightly pressed bodies, but he catches it and pulls it over my head.
“Not yet. I have plans for you,” he promises, kissing me so deeply my head spins. All I know is the intoxicating scent of him: earthy and floral, with hints of masculine sweat. Love blooms within my chest until I think my fluttering heart will explode, then he pulls away.“It’s not far from here.”
He takes my hand, the size difference meaning mine is almost completely hidden in his, then pulls me up the steps.
I almost stumble multiple times, because I am more interested in the light show put on by the roots that dart in and out of the grout of the masonry.
They become bioluminescent in a long ring around Aldrin, lighting up the space multiple steps ahead of and behind us.
Some of the tendril-thin tips reach out for him, receding after he passes, like the tree too has missed his presence.
He swings open the door at the top of the staircase and turns back to me with a wolfish grin on his face. His profile is bathed in bluish-purple light. I allow him to lead me through, pulling me in front of him and holding me by the shoulders.
The cavern beyond takes my breath away.
Immense columns and archways are carved straight into stone, supporting a high natural ceiling. Circular shafts are cut into it, with prominent beams of moonlight shining through, down onto an ancient wisteria tree.
Its immense size sends shockwaves of awe ripping through me.
The twisted trunk is as wide as the throne room, many low-hanging branches extending off it, each with the girth of a carriage.
The woody limbs reach across the cavern, disappearing into the walls and ceiling at hundreds of different sites.
I finally understand why it is called the bones of the palace.
Roots taller than even Aldrin snake across the ground, splitting again and again into a web.
A crystal-clear, ankle-deep pool of water fills the cavern, with an island hugging the base of the tree.
Long cascades of tiny purple flowers decorate the canopy, completely filling the ceiling and squeezing against the walls.
Their petals are littered across the floor, floating atop the pool and piling high on the solid ground.
Segmented, bean-like seed pods hang from the foliage in clusters, some as long as my arm and radiating that bluish-purple light.
I turn in Aldrin’s arms to face him. “Is this the Wisteria of Mythanar?”
“It is.”
He leads me down the embankment, and we take our boots off before stepping through the water. Tiny blue sprites swim within it, darting toward my toes and away.
“This tree was planted by my ancestor, the same queen who built this city and palace. She set a powerful enchantment over it, so it only bonds to our royal family line. I had to see it for myself, to ensure it is loyal to my bloodline and not the throne itself.”
He steps onto the island surrounding the tree, bringing me with him.
The ground is surprisingly soft, with a carpet of moss beneath the fallen petals.
Aldrin crouches and places his hand to the tree.
Rough strips of bark pull back so his palm touches the smooth wood beneath and purple runes light up across the trunk, rippling out from his contact.
He closes his eyes, frowning slightly, and when they snap open, he gestures for me to join him.
“Put your hand beside mine,” he murmurs. “The tree is still loyal to me alone. I want to introduce you to it.”
I do as I am told, kneeling beside him, but glance at him questioningly.
“Do you remember when an assassin tried to kill us while we slept in the palace and I dragged the tree’s limbs out of the walls to capture him?
” he asks, and I nod. “The roots and branches of this tree are spread throughout every room of the palace, but no other fae can control it, no matter how much earth magic they have. Not even the Tuatha Dé Danann gods themselves. But you are my mate and my family. I want you to be able to wield this tree as a weapon or a means to restructure any space. To be able to open doorways through walls if you need to escape.”
Aldrin’s power pulses within the tree. It caresses my palm and pulls on my own power as the tendrils of our magic interlock.
It feels like he runs his fingers over the most sensitive parts of my body, along my sides and across my breasts, up my inner thighs and over their apex.
A tantalizing shiver runs down my spine as my breath hitches.
He drags my consciousness deeper into the tree, right up to the wisteria’s source that flickers and glows like a violet flame. It flares around us, probing but not touching. It offers itself up to Aldrin to take hold of, but it is wary of me.
Then Aldrin pours his power inside mine. Around mine. Penetrating, consuming and connecting with every part of me until we are one, in the way that only mates can be. I cry out a sound that is half a choked whimper, half a throaty moan.
He is deeper inside me than when his cock is buried to the hilt within my core, hitting those delectable spots.
It is like having his tongue, his cock and his fingers buried within every orifice all at once, his body touching every inch of my bare flesh, his mind wrapped around mine, showing me his pleasure on top of my own, and still this is more intense.
That purple light flares around us both, offering itself to my power as it does his, recognizing the demonstration of our mate bond in the alignment of our two souls.
I am a sweating, shaking mess by the time Aldrin leads our joint consciousness out of the tree and completely back into our separate bodies.
When I open my eyes, his are right before me, the amber of them burning with hot desire. He lifts my chin and kisses me with hunger, his lips sliding against mine and his tongue entering my mouth, claiming me.
I lean into him, wanting more.
Needing everything and all of him.
There is a tugging at my clothes, coming from multiple different spots.
Long, velvety tendrils creep up my legs and over my waist. I suck in a sharp breath as my heart stutters with fear and I pull away from him, eyes wide, then glance down at myself.
Thin branches have sprouted from the tree and formed cords, encircling my thighs almost to the point where they curve inward and meet.
They lift the skirt of my dress all the way up.
Others pull at the buttons of my neckline, slowly undoing them.
“Aldrin, the tree! Is it sentient?” I panic, trying to pull away from it, but the hold is tight.
He looks upon me with a simmering heat that tightens the pit of my belly, his gaze traveling lower, watching closely as the fabric covering me is unwrapped like a present. “The Wisteria of Mythanar is not sentient. It is like any other tree in that way, bending to my will.”
The tension immediately flows from my body.
I remain completely still as the woody coils wrap around each thigh.
As they pry open my neckline to reveal my breasts, snaking around them and across my back.
My chest rises and falls heavily as the thinnest tendrils dance across my nipples, pinching at them and stimulating the sensitive flesh.
“Oh, gods, Aldrin,” I moan. “I’d prefer your hands and mouth on me instead.”
He raises an eyebrow and sits back on his legs. “Would you now? What if I told you I’m not going to touch you? Not until you are a shaking, begging mess. Not until you have earned it. Do you remember that punishment I promised you?”
Heat pools in my core as it throbs for him. “Please. I want you now. Don’t deprive me when it has been so long.”
The vinelike coils climb up my belly and across my skin from under my dress, and in one fluid motion, pull it over my head. They make short work of tearing away my panties, and very quickly I am naked before him, on my knees with multiple loops of his rope wrapped around me.
His eyes fixate on the shadowy depths between my thighs. With a flick of his wrist, he has that rope pull my legs wide apart. He inspects the wetness slicking my core, so painfully close his breath caresses my intimate parts.
It drives me wild.
“Please, Aldrin. Please . Just one lick.”
He laughs, coming up to meet my gaze. “Perhaps next time you won’t throw yourself away for me. I want you to value yourself as much as I do—not as a commodity to be spent, or a shield to be put before other people, but as a precious queen this world cannot do without.”
He gives my neck a long, slow lick, conceding to my demand, though not in the way I want.
“Remember my oath, Keira. I cannot restrain you like this unless you want it. The Wisteria of Mythanar responds to your command as well as mine. It will stop if you tell it to. But I really hope you will let me do everything and anything I want to you.”