For him.
Because he needed this as much as she did. More than she did, truly. Cailan was happy and content, but most of the time he wasn’t. It was a fine line he walked constantly, but at least the line was more attainable, now he wasn’t alone.
It was…an odd feeling, having a spirit inside of him. Sometimes he hardly felt it, and others, Cailan knew the spirit wanted to do more, give more, even talk to him. There were times when he imagined having a conversation with Hunger, and it made his choices easier. He owed all of his recent actions to the spirit. Without it, Philip would still be alive and Cailan would be the uncaring prince he always was. And Lena…she would’ve been executed, and Cailan wouldn’t have been able to lift a finger to stop it.
Cailan’s eyes roamed the hall. The nobles had broken up into cliques, all chatting amongst themselves, most likely about his choice of future queen. Servants zigzagged through the crowd, offering wine glasses. It was just a small event, one that would be announced in the morn. Cailan was Rivaini’s new king and he’d announced his future wife. What would be the much larger event would be their wedding.
The reaction the city would have wouldn’t be good, Cailan knew. It was why he’d sent extra guards on patrol, beginning during his coronation. As soon as people got wind of Lena, they’d riot.
His eyes fell on Henrik, who stood off to the side, standing straight. His hands hung behind his back, he looked…different. Had he done something to his hair? Why did he look so…well, Cailan couldn’t put his finger on it. Henrik simply looked strange.
There was a rustling inside his head, almost as if Hunger was shifting, moving to the forefront, but only for a moment. Only long enough to whisper in a voice that was not a voice: That is not Henrik.
How in the world could he not be Henrik? Cailan wondered back.
He is something much worse, Hunger thought. And he is here to take your bride.
Henrik locked eyes with Cailan, as if he’d heard the exchange in his head, his dark eyes narrowing as his wrinkled lips thinned. Cailan did not look away, did not back down, even though there were fifty feet between them.
Cailan wasn’t sure if he believed it, for the man looked like Henrik. But did it matter? He never liked Henrik much from the start.
Regardless.
No one would take Lena from him.
Chapter Six
“The servants were bustling,” Anne spoke as she worked to get Lena out of the gown. The dress would be first, then her makeup, and lastly her hair. Lena had already eaten—thank the gods, for she was starving all throughout the day—so it was time to undo the updo and free her chest of the restrictive dress. She’d already slipped off the shoes. “Everyone’s talking about King Cailan’s big announcement. Most of the castle servants aren’t in this wing, so they had no idea how serious the King’s announcement was.”
Lena breathed in deeply once the stitched-in corset was loose. “The nobles didn’t seem to take it well.”
“They’re worried about you being a mage, is all. In time, I’m certain you’ll do right by them, my Lady.” After Anne helped her out of all the different layers of the dress, once Lena was snug in a nightgown, she said, “Let me fetch you some tea.” Nightly warm tea in the belly always helped one to fall asleep quickly, Anne had said. It was something her mother had done when she was growing up in the castle, and Anne continued the tradition even after her mother died.
To live and breathe in the castle, to die here. Lena couldn’t fathom it. To be born here and never leave, to never know what the world was like outside. Honestly, she wasn’t sure if she pitied Anne or was jealous of her. Being born here, she was unaware of what she was missing. Lena wasn’t so lucky. She’d seen the cruelty of the world instead of being sheltered by the College for her entire life. Still, she’d known freedom, and then she’d lost it.
There was a time not long ago when Lena didn’t want freedom, when she agreed with the law that all mages must be placed in the College and under constant supervision and guard. Alas, after the events of late, her views had changed. She did not want to be watched and scrutinized every waking hour, nor did she desire to be chained to a man until the end of time.
Either way, Lena lost. Mages weren’t free, and one mage queen wasn’t going to change such an ingrained way of thinking, the way of life for all Rivainians. She had crazy Cailan on one side, and zany Zyssept on the other.
Even though, she admitted, Zyssept didn’t seem too bad…
Anne returned with the tea, and Lena begged her to stay, to join her, even if they sipped in silence. She wasn’t Ingrid, but she was as close to a friend as she had in the castle. A girlfriend, anyway, now that her men were here.
Crossing her ankles, Anne sat on the edge of the round cushion that laid before the giant windowpane. The moon was only starting its ascent, a thin silver crescent in the dark sky. She held the small plate on her lap, slowly lifting the teacup to her lips. Her brown hair was up in the same bun, though a few stray pieces tried to fly away.
“Do you ever let your hair down?” Lena asked.
She shook her head. “No. I find it just gets in the way. I do wish I had your hair, though. Not the eyes.”
Lena chuckled. “My friend Ingrid is a so-called potions master. They both used to be purple. It was supposed to be a temporary potion, only last maybe an hour or two, but she vastly miscalculated, because the only time the color seems to wear off is when I drink a different potion.” She could not stop smiling as she thought of Ingrid, but the smile fell away as she remembered her friend was missing.
“What color are your eyes and your hair naturally?”
“Yellow hair,” Lena said. “Blue eyes.”
Anne sighed, saying, “I hope you and the King have children who look like you, and I’m certain King Cailan would feel the same. His favorite color is blue, you know.”
“You don’t say.” As if the variety in her closet wasn’t clue enough.
“I’m surprised he has not yet enlisted enchanters’ aid to make your hair and eyes blue. Then you could be his perfect blue woman.” They both laughed at that, though Lena was the first to grow serious.
“I don’t think…” Lena stared at her lap, at the teacup. She’d already drunk the entire thing, but the last thing she wanted was more. “I don’t want this,” she whispered.
Anne was silent for a while. “I’m sorry, Lena, but you don’t have a choice. Women rarely do, when it comes to this sort of thing.” The words must’ve left a bad taste in her mouth, for she said nothing else before she picked up the tea set and left after telling her goodnight.
She didn’t want Anne’s pity. She wanted…gods, Lena wasn’t sure what she wanted. The more she thought about it, the more confused she became. Cailan had wanted to throw a noble in a dungeon, all for disrespecting her. What would he do when riots filled the streets? Start mass executions?
The bright and lofty goals that filled her head when she told the others it would do Rivaini good to have a mage queen seemed so far out of reach, considering the crazy she’d have to deal with.
A knock on the door to her bedchambers—at this late an hour? She went to answer it, cracking the door, fearing it was Cailan changing his mind about waiting for their wedding night. If she fought enough, Zyssept would probably step in and stop it, but it was not a risk she wanted to take nor an event she wanted to bear witness to.
It was a guard, one with blue eyes. Lena flicked her gaze to the tall guard who stood on the opposite wall, noting his smile. Tamlen was to guard her room while Vale was inside it, visiting her? They’d get no argument from her.
After tossing a quick glance down the hall to make sure no one would see, Lena opened her door wider, allowing Vale’s entrance. As Vale shut the door with his foot and took off his helmet, resting it on the vanity table—Anne would have a fit if she saw—his concerned face focused on her.
Gods. What was she doing? Lena had three gorgeous men—four, if one were to count the blaste
d god—who would do anything for her, who would even let her marry another man as long as it was what she wanted, and she was tossing her cards at a looney.
What was wrong with her?
Lena had moved to the side of the bed, sitting on its edge. Vale moved beside her as he said, “You look like you’ve had a revelation.”
“I have,” she said, though she refused to say it aloud, lest she change her mind. Lena looked up at him. Vale looked good in the armor, as if he were born to wear it. His square-cut face, his crooked nose. She needed that body free of its armor. “Take it off.”
Vale’s eyebrows rose. “Is that a command?”
Gods, they’d come such a long way from the strangers they were to each other. How he was loathed to follow her whim, and here he was, joking about it. “Yes,” Lena said. “All the armor. Off.”
“As my master commands.”
The very moment he was naked, she jumped on him, pulled him down to the bed and straddled him. The trail of her silky nightgown fell on either side of him, and she rested directly on his pelvis. She could feel him growing harder beneath her, even though she was still fully clothed. The mere thought she was the one making him hard made her nerves tingle.
Lena ran her hands up his chest. He was a perfect man. They all were. She was more than lucky to have them, even if it involved some necromancy. “When I first rose you,” she said, teasingly dragging her nails down his chest, along his flat stomach, “did you ever imagine we would end up like this?”
He went to pull her to him, to touch her, but she swatted his hands away. Tonight, Lena wanted to make all the choices. She wanted to have every ounce of power.
Giving up, Vale’s arms fell back. “No. Not once did I think we would…be together in such a way. I thought you were nothing more than Midas’s agent, sent to check if I was indeed dead.” When she reached for the small fabric tie that kept her gown closed and tight on her body, his eyes wandered. “But when I saw you hiding behind that book, I thought, no. This woman can’t be an agent for the King. No one in their right mind would hide from undead skeletons behind a book.”
Lena gave him a light smack to his side, which made him laugh and squirm a bit. Her hips bore down on him harder, pressing his length along her panties. She’d have to get those off, but the nightgown came first. “Are you,” she said, lifting her arms as she slipped the light blue gown off her body, “making fun of me?” Her breasts bounced free, her nipples already hard and pointed.
“I would never,” Vale said, voice husky, hungry. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”
She ran her nails across his abdomen, causing him to shiver. “When you were with Midas, did he ever take you in?”
“No,” he murmured.
Lena leaned down as she said, “Then it will be a first for the both of us.” She scooted her backside down, off his dick. His hard length sprang up the instant she was no longer holding it down, a drop of precum already forming on its tip. “Tell me, Vale, would you like me to put you in my mouth?”
“Yes.” Vale could hardly say the word.
“Feel free to instruct me,” she said, “as it is my first time.” Lena had watched Vale give Tamlen head numerous times, so she knew the gist of it. With one hand, she pulled the skin back. She lightly ran her tongue around the tip, eliciting a sharp moan from him. She wanted to make him moan, make him lose himself in pleasure. She wanted to own him heart, body, and soul.
She probably already did, but that was beside the point.
Lena took him in her mouth, her tongue working the tip each time she bobbed her head. Her hair draped around her, and as soon as she realized she was not as skilled at this as Vale, she brought her second hand to the mix, running it along his length just outside of her lips, gripping him hard.
She could’ve said this was about pleasing her men because they did such a spectacular job at pleasing her, but it would be a lie. This was about being the one in charge. This was about power, and how Lena was finally going to say fuck it and take it. She would not bend to anyone. Not Cailan and not Zyssept.
“Oh, gods,” Vale muttered, his hips starting to rock with the rhythm Lena set. Just when he started to say more, she withdrew her mouth and tore off the last little bit of fabric she wore, taking him inside of her. Lena ground down on him, moving her hips. It didn’t take him long to come. She felt him shake below her, and she watched as his eyes rolled to a close.
“Yes,” she said, “come for me, Vale.” Once the orgasm had thoroughly taken over his body and he laid panting, Lena crawled up his chest, his cock slipping out of her, spent. “You are mine forever,” she whispered, pressing her lips to his. When he wrapped an arm around her back and held her tighter, she broke the kiss and said, “Take Tamlen’s place and send him in.”
Lena all but laughed at the expression Vale gave her. “You…” He could not argue, though he wanted to remain. “Fine, fine.” He was unhurried in putting his armor back on and grab his helmet, even slower walking out of the door.
“I hear there may be something special in store for me,” Tamlen said, smirking as he entered the room. He worked to rid himself of his armor even before Lena told him to. He was an eager man, wasn’t he?
“You should not put so much stock in rumors and gossip,” Lena said, lying draped across the bed. She hadn’t bothered to dress, knowing her clothes would simply need to come off again. “Where is Bastian?”
Tamlen shot her a look, one that said he did not wish to speak of other men when his one-on-one time with Lena was imminent, but nevertheless he said, “He took Vale’s place in the dungeon, watching old Henrik.” His cock was already hard, which was exactly what she’d anticipated. A single eyebrow was up. “What? You going to send me to fetch Bastian when we’re done?” He’d meant it as a joke, but was silenced the moment Lena nodded. “Well, damn.”
Lena laughed. “I think,” she paused as she ran a hand along her body, “that you should stop being jealous and crawl onto this bed with me.” The Lena of a month ago would never have uttered such words; she’d certainly changed a lot. The guys wouldn’t complain.
The man needed no further instruction. He came to her, sweeping her into his arms as he laid on the bed, atop the sheets. Tamlen was seconds from kissing her, but she held up a finger, pressing it against his eager lips.
“Ah-ah-ah.” Lena pointed with her other hand. “That’s not where I want that tongue.” She didn’t want to do the same thing with each man; she wanted…to do whatever her mind came up with. And right now, the area between her thighs yearned for the skill that came with that blasted tongue.
Tamlen grew cocky. “Oh, so that’s why I’m here taking Vale’s place, huh?” He couldn’t even pretend to be insulted. “I’ll take it.” He was almost boyish, giddy and more than willing to position his face between her open legs, gazing up at her as his tongue flicked out.
Her arms gave out the moment he went to work. Her elbows collapsed, and she laid with her back on the sheets with her eyes closed. A fire coursed through her with each flick of his tongue, setting alive her core. Her breathing grew ragged, her fingers tightening on the sheets involuntarily. The pleasure Tamlen brought her was instant, sweeping and undeniable. He was a master at the craft, making her cry out when he slid two fingers inside her and pumped them in and out with a steady rhythm. They didn’t even need extra lubrication; she was still wet and ready from her time with Vale.
Lena inched toward the precipice of her pleasure, holding herself back until she could hold it back no longer. Her body gave way to the heat, to the pleasure, the room and everything beyond it disappearing as her mind went blank, delirious with the surging orgasm. Her toes curled, a loud sigh escaping her lips.
Yes, it was just what she needed.
She laid there, unmoving, for the longest time, even as Tamlen’s fingers slipped out of her. His lips trailed up her stomach as he whispered, “Where would you like my services next?” His voice was deliciously husky, low in all the ways that ma
de her want more.
As a reply, Lena drew a finger between her breasts.
Tamlen’s mouth followed the line, inching up to her chest. His hands, calloused as they were, each cupped a breast, kneading and caressing as he kissed the side and underside of her left breast. He sucked in the nearest nipple, toying with the hardened pebble, his tongue running wet circles around it.
Lena’s fingers wove through his hair, tearing his mouth from her chest and bringing it to her face. His lips crashed down on hers, and as their tongues danced, she moved the tip of his cock against her opening. Tamlen pushed inside, filling the urge to have him entirely, wholly and completely. His hips gyrated, his mouth moving to her neck, just above the metal collar.
“How I wish we could take this damned thing off,” Tamlen practically growled out, the muscles in his arms clenching as he held her to him. Anywhere his skin touched hers, a fire erupted, a burning passion which could only be sated by his body, his cock, his love.
The passion, the hunger was so great, Lena could not find any words to speak. Of course she wanted the collar off…and she’d find a way to get the blasted thing off, but first thing was first: she had to have her fill. She had to have her men.
Her mouth hung ajar as Tamlen thrusted deep inside her, her legs wrapped around his waist. One of her hands still rested on his head, woven through his hair. His body, so wide above hers, was covered in scars. Some were so thick she could feel them when she arched her back and pressed herself harder against him. He’d seen countless battles, he’d even died on the field, thanks to Vale.
Lena would not let death have any of them again.
Finally finding her voice, Lena instructed, “Go harder. Faster.”
The man needed no more than that. His thrusts grew frantic, swift and more intense. His monstrous length slid in and out of her at a speed her moaning could not match, filling her up to the point where she felt like she could explode from the pleasure. Her vision danced, and she had to close her eyes before she let the pleasure take hold of her once more. It came as a wave of domination, all her thoughts vanishing. She might’ve cried out, but she couldn’t be sure. Her body rocked from the second orgasm, tingling and warm. She was so lost in her own world of pleasure she didn’t even feel Tamlen’s cock tense inside of her, spewing his seed as he came.
Gods and Trickery: A Reverse Harem Fantasy (Unfortunate Magic Book 3) Page 10