“You’re beautiful, Ella,” I whispered, punctuating my words with a thrust. I braced myself over her, my arm along the back of the couch, pinning her knee between my hip and the back.
She arched up to kiss me, that desperate hunger returning, and I felt my thrusts matching it. I focused on how she felt under me, how her hands clutched at my shirt, her legs quivering as she pressed against me, her body tensing and relaxing. I could feel her pleasure building with the frantic pace we set and I could feel my balls tightening, my orgasm waiting for hers. I ran my hand down over her chest and stomach, seeking out her clit. I pulled away from kissing her, watching her face as I pushed her closer to climax.
“That’s it, love,” I said, my voice thick with need. “Let me watch you come. God, you’re so beautiful.”
Her eyes shut tightly as her mouth opened, silently shouting as I felt her pussy clench my cock. I groaned, wanting to close my own eyes as I came, but I refused—I watched her as I fucked her through our orgasms and when she finally opened her eyes, the affection and trust I saw there was worth it.
She was worth it.
Chapter 22
Eleanora
Merlin helped readjust my dress after cleaning himself up. I felt a shyness I hadn’t last night and it was habit to turn my face from the man when he looked up at me. He touched my face with such gentleness that it made my eyes fill with tears—tears of happiness or fear, I couldn’t rightly distinguish.
I let him turn my face back towards him and he leaned forward to place a kiss on my lips. I felt my eyes flutter closed, the wet tears running down my face, flavoring our kiss with their salt. He pulled away and I sighed, fervently wishing I could remain at his side the entire evening.
“Here,” he said quietly, and I opened my eyes to see the raven’s mask in his hands. I grimaced and he chucked my chin gently. “I know,” he said and I looked into his eyes. I had feared to see disgust and revulsion, or even worse—pity, but there was compassion instead. “But if Madam Jupiter is the vile snake I’ve always assumed, she’ll not let you be away much longer. I need to get back out there and get word sent to Brom and Romulus. Can you make it through one more night?”
I nodded, even though I didn’t want to, if I was honest. I was terrified of what my stepmother would do once I returned home with her that evening. I wanted nothing more than to stay in the protection of Merlin. To disappear into his arms and let him hide me from the world. He’d seen my face and still wanted me—that made me love him more than any other action. I blinked at the realization.
I think I love Merlin . . . and I could love Brom and Romulus too—if they could accept me the way their friend had.
Still dumbfounded by my heart, I hardly felt Merlin’s quick kiss before he helped me place the mask back on. Only my lips tingling told me it happened. I needed to tell him that I loved him, the need clawed at my rib cage and I stood, the man stepping out of my way, and looked for the notepad. I wanted to say it with my own words, but this would have to do.
A knock at the door made both of us freeze and he reached out for my hand. I squeezed it desperately, hoping he could feel everything I did at that moment. Love, hope, a wish for more time, fear.
“Sit,” he said softly and I returned to the couch we’d made frantic love on. I sat ramrod straight, my hands folded on my lap, and angled my face towards the floor. I needed to look as if I had sat there primly and silently, keeping Madam Jupiter’s secrets.
I heard Merlin walk to the door and open it, my stomach clenching with nerves.
“Madam Jupiter,” he said, his voice even and respectful. “I think your stepdaughter is settled, though she would not speak nor take any offer of refreshment.”
I felt my stepmother’s eyes like they were daggers. I made myself look at her, and she stood in the doorway, a passive smile on her face. But the anger in her stare was unmistakable to someone who’d known her for so many years.
“You are more of a gentleman than your father would have me believe, Merlin,” she said, turning her face to beam a smile at him. She patted his lapel affectionately and I wanted to snarl at her. “I fear retreating into silence is Eleanora’s way of coping with overwhelming stress. I knew that I should not have brought her tonight, but she had seemed so excited. Please, tell me, did she allow you to remove her mask for fresh air?”
“No, madam,” Merlin lied smoothly. “She seemed most adamant that I not remove it. So I simply sat with her in hopes that she would settle.”
“Hmm.” My stepmother walked into the room, Merlin a step behind her. Bile rose in my throat as I saw the discarded notes on the other chair. If she saw those, she would know he was lying to her. But it seemed he thought of the same and moved between her and the chair easily.
“Eleanora, I believe it best that I escort you home,” my stepmother said, her tone firm. I nodded submissively and stood, keeping my hands together and my head bowed respectfully. She gripped my arm just above my elbow, her fingertips digging into my arm. “Thank you again, Merlin, for your care of my ward. My daughter, Titania, looks forward to speaking more with you this evening.”
“Of course,” Merlin said, even as Madam Jupiter guided me forcefully forward, making me nearly stumble. But he spoke again, his tone dropping low and forcing her to stop and look back at him. “I would think it only best that I call upon you and Eleanora tomorrow afternoon to ensure she has fully recovered.”
I would only have to make it until tomorrow afternoon. I could do that.
“Of course,” she said dismissively, and my heart began to sink. I feared she had a plan in place already which allowed her to relent so quickly. I risked a look over my shoulder as she pulled me through the door and into the hall.
Merlin stood there, a hard look on his face, his mask held in his hand. He nodded once and I was forced to look forward once more as we turned down the hall, the warlock out of my sight.
Madam Jupiter pulled me through the crowd, her forcefulness a clear sign of her anger at me—as she didn’t care who she offended in our path. I could feel people’s eyes on us, but all I cared about was that she was taking me farther and farther away from my men, my freedom. But I trusted Merlin with my face—I could trust him to help me escape.
She barked an order at the footman, and he rushed to have a town car pulled up. She snatched our coats from the cloakroom and stormed outside with me. The moment the car door opened, she shoved me in with a curse and sat up front with the driver.
I curled up on the bench seat, letting my tears fall silently. I wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of hearing me gasp out magically-silenced sobs. I had to get it out now, because I couldn’t predict what she would do once we returned home.
The car ride passed in stone silence, and by the time we pulled up to the front drive, my tears had quieted. I repeated to myself that I had to trust in Merlin’s promise and not let any doubt sink in. One of the footmen rushed to the doors, opening them for her and me. But she snapped at the man and he scrambled out of her way as she reached in and gripped my wrist to drag me from the car. I wanted to cry out as I stumbled to my knees, the concrete tearing the gown, but her enchantment was still suffocating my voice as strong as ever.
“Get up, you miserable piece of filth,” she barked as she hauled me upwards by my hair with an unexpected strength.
I had no choice except to go where she pushed me, her grip painful on my scalp. She walked us into the house and I heard someone gasp but our pace didn’t slow. Only when we marched through the house and out into the expansive backyard, our feet crunching on the gravel, did I realize where she was taking me.
I fought back then, my hands scratching at her grip in my hair, and she shook me with a shout.
“Stop that, you fucking child,” she hissed, and shoved me down to the ground, the mask’s beak breaking from the force and pain laced through my face as she pressed down harder. “It’s time you get what you deserve. You will fucking stay in the place where you murdered
my husband and stole the love of my life from me. No more will I cater to his murderer.”
She let go of my hair and pulled me up by my arm again and ripped off my mask. I stared at her in weak confusion. I would never have killed my father—I loved him, so much.
She made a clawing motion with her free hand and I felt her magic rip away from me. I cried out, the sound escaping my lips with a gust of pain. I reached for my neck even as I tried to break out of her grip.
“No—” I shook my head vehemently. “I didn’t kill father.”
She looked crazed, and I realized she’d taken off her mask somewhere in our march through the house. “You don’t remember, but you will,” she promised as she dragged me towards his workshop.
It had been cleaned out to the best of the staff’s ability, the outside structure still standing firm. The doors had been replaced and time had faded the scorch marks on the stone. I felt terror growing inside of me, blended with apprehension and dread. I couldn’t go in there.
“Please,” I begged her. “Please, Stepmother, don’t make me go in there. Not again,” I cried, uncaring of the tears spilling down my face. “I’ll stay in my room. I’ll never leave again. I’ll work in the kitchens, scrubbing the floors. You never have to see me again, but please don’t make me go in there.”
She produced a key from somewhere on her and she ignored my broken bargaining as she unlocked the workshop. The doors opened without effort and I felt myself begin to panic as we went inside.
From the outside, my father’s magical workshop looked in good repair, if you ignored the faint scorch marks that had blistered the stone. But inside—it was nearly gutted. The walls were blackened from the fire, his workbenches crumbled, books half burnt, their leather and cloth covers singed.
I could hear him, my father, crying out my name as the flames wrapped around us.
Madam Jupiter flung me forward and I crashed to my hands and knees, pain lacing through me as the rough floor cut my skin. I looked up at her in pain.
“Why?” I cried out. “What did I ever do to deserve your hate?”
A sneer crossed her lips, her elegant face twisting into vile hatred. She lifted her hands to showcase the destruction around us.
“You did this, Eleanora,” she said with a disbelieving remorse. “You were never even supposed to exist in the first place, you know.” She turned to close the door behind her, trapping us in the ruined workshop, the only light coming from the streetlights and the moon through the windows. I stayed still as she took a seat carefully on a nearly intact stool. She stared towards me, but her gaze was unfocused and her tone was detached as she continued.
“Your father was supposed to kill your mother,” she began. “Your mother was from a dangerous line, and those with the power of foresight saw the danger her child would be. It would destroy the syndicates and the careful alliances constructed over thousands of years. Your father volunteered to seduce her, even though I begged him not to. He was supposed to construct a way to kill her before she could ever bear a child—ending the threat entirely. But he was young, and he fell in love instead. And when she had you . . .” Her voice trailed off and I shook my head, unable to believe her.
“They ran away, hiding for years. I was heartbroken, your father abandoning me for her and for you. I married my Horatio Coulis, vowing to never cry over Thaddius again. But when Horatio found your family, he made a bargain. Your mother would help him claim his legacy, and then he would look the other way when she disappeared and your father and you returned. When Thaddius returned with you in his arms, I raged for months. My daughters should have been his—not you.
“And when Horatio died, the power he’d always hoped for always out of reach, your father returned to me. At last, I was supposed to be happy. The love of my heart wanted me and we were married. I was happy for a while until . . .” She trailed off and finally looked up at me, her voice growing hateful. “Until I realized he would always love you more than me.”
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, my voice burning in my throat. “I didn’t know.”
“I know that, you idiot.” She rolled her eyes. “When you started showing aptitude for magic, he was ecstatic. He spent so much time with you. You were his darling angel. Nothing my daughters did was ever good enough to garner his attention. And then . . . you began to show you inherited your mother’s magic as well. The magic we had all feared.”
She looked around the room, coated in darkness. Even after all of these years, I could still smell the cinders as they fell around me.
“He tried to help you contain it . . . and it killed him,” she whispered. The moonlight glinted off of a tear rolling down her cheek. “I begged him to escape, but he refused to leave you, even as you made the flames burn hotter. And when they pulled your bodies out, you lacked the decency to join him in death.”
I reeled from what she’d said, still unable to believe it. She stood and walked to a dark corner, and I barely followed her with my eyes.
“One of the other warlocks put a spell on you, hiding away the memories in hopes of keeping the syndicate safe. They charged me with looking after you, even though I begged them to send you away. But there was the Bediver legacy to protect.” She reached up and pulled something that sounded like a sheet. The soft light reflected off of metal bars. “Tonight, I finally convinced them that you were a danger to us all still. They’ve agreed to perform the rite to transfer the legacy to Titania, as it should have been all along. After tomorrow, you will never be a danger to us again.”
Too late, I realized she revealed a metal cage. I tried to get up, to run from her, but her magic wrapped around me, freezing me in place as it sank into my bones.
“Get in the cage, Eleanora,” she commanded with the gentleness I had always craved from her.
My body responded even as I screamed in my mind. I could feel the magical ruins etched on the inside of the cage, the magic nearly a physical oppression. I felt the rage build up inside me as I watched her close and lock the door.
Madam Jupiter looked at me, almost with pity. She crooked her finger, beckoning me towards her, my body jerking forward to comply.
“It’s time you remember how you killed your father,” she said, and jabbed her finger between my eyes—the force of the spell slamming me to the ground.
Memories of fear and fire swarmed me and I screamed.
Chapter 23
Romulus
My aunt was at my side the entire evening, and I was forced to admit it made the night more bearable. She had no patience for fools, nor those who only wanted to speak to us for the privilege of our rank. It meant that those we spoke with were high enough in the syndicate to not care for more power. Or really, they knew they’d reached as high as they could and, rather than be bitter, had chosen a path of contentment.
It also meant that she was at my side when a uniformed staff member delivered a message from Merlin.
“What does it say, mo chori?” she asked in an interested tone. She gave the impression that I could keep it secret, but only an idiot wouldn’t tell her what she wanted to know.
“It says that the damsel in distress is our little bird,” I quoted directly. She turned towards me with a raised eyebrow that clearly demanded further explanation. “I believe Merlin means that the woman I’ve spoken with you about is also Thaddius Bediver’s daughter.”
She stared hard at me, her other eyebrow shooting upwards at the warlock’s name. She muttered curses in the old tongue, and I frowned. I had never known her to speak so, always preferring elegant discourse in her conversations.
“Aunt Genevieve?” I asked, so many questions in those two words.
She looked around us, the other lycans a respectful distance away, but it must not have been private enough for her satisfaction. She pulled me through the crowd, her strength belying her age. She snapped and another uniformed staff appeared at our side.
“Where can your friends meet us?” she demanded, and I blinked. Sh
e growled at me and I thought quickly.
“There’s a room we go to,” I said, and she gestured impatiently at the staffer. “Send my request for a meeting to Brom Tepes and Merlin Moitessier to meet me in our usual place.”
“And be utterly discreet, else I will end you and your entire family line,” my aunt threatened, and both of us were taken aback by the threat.
“Yes, madam,” the man said, and disappeared into the crowd.
“Aunt—”
“When we’re in the room,” she interrupted me. “Take me there now.”
When we got to the room, we both paused—the faint scent of magic and sex permeated the room.
“Well, it appears he was thorough,” she said, her tone holding a hint of amusement. I sighed, but regretted doing so as I breathed in the scent of them. My cock twitched and I stared up at the ceiling, forcing it to settle down. I refused to get a fucking erection while my aunt was with me. She’d never let me live it down.
Aunt Genevieve moved to sit, looking briefly at the couch before moving to take one of the chairs. I went to the drink cart, only to see a glass had already been used, a drop or two of clear liquid still in the bottom. I held up the whiskey decanter in a silent question and my aunt shook her head.
“But you and your friends will want some, I suspect,” she said, just as the door opened, Brom and Merlin striding in and removing their masks. They stopped in their tracks as they saw my aunt, looking at me in question. “I don’t bite, lads,” she said, and gestured for them to take a seat. “Not anymore at least.”
“What is this about, Romulus?” Brom asked as he took the glass I offered.
“I’m not entirely certain, but it has to do with Merlin’s message,” I explained and leaned against the wall, holding my own tumbler of whiskey like a shield. My aunt was not one to jump at shadows and I honestly was fucking terrified at what she thought all of us needed to hear.
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