Though Lena was tired and flushed, she wasn’t quite done yet.
After Tamlen withdrew himself, his breathing rough and ragged, she looked at him, not even bothering to lift her head. “After you dress yourself, get Bastian.”
Smirking, Tamlen said, “Such a taskmaster you are tonight, love.” The final word was reminiscent of what Cailan called her, but unlike him, Tamlen meant it, and she loved hearing it from him. Once his underclothes and armor were back on his body, he gave a mock bow. “Your wish is my command.”
He spoke the declaration seriously, which only made her laugh. As he left, Lena crawled beneath the covers, her head the one thing sticking out. After Bastian, there was one more person she had to see, but he wasn’t really much of a person at all, despite how he tried to be.
Lena wouldn’t think of that, of him, now. She’d wait for Bastian.
She seemed to lay in the bed alone forever. At least twenty minutes, which she supposed, was due to how far the dungeon was from her current lodgings.
Current lodgings. Gods. It sounded so…so fake. So stupid. Lena hated it here, she suddenly decided, although perhaps it was not so sudden. She hadn’t particularly enjoyed her stay in the castle’s dungeon, but it was not masquerading as normalcy, like this room was, like the dresses and the makeup and the maidservant did. No matter how shiny and large the cage was, it was but a cage and nothing more.
She wanted to be free.
A soft knock on her door alerted her to Bastian’s presence before he entered. “Celena,” he spoke, his accented, melodic voice sending her stomach for a tumble, “Tamlen said you wished to speak with me?”
Lena sat up, allowing the sheets to fall somewhat, revealing her bare chest, her breasts round, nipples still puckered from the attention Tamlen had shown them. “Talking is the last thing I want to do,” she said.
His back straightened. “Oh. I…” Even after all this time, after everything they’d already done, he was still shy.
She chuckled softly, holding out her hand. “Take off that armor and come to me, Bastian.” Lena did her best at a Sumerian accent as she spoke his name, placing the stress on the final syllable, her pitch rising a bit. The way he spoke—truly, the only Sumerian she’d ever heard—was so soothing, like music to her ears. Certain letters held more emphasis, others at the end of words were practically nonexistent. She’d love to visit Sumer sometime, should fate let her.
That was assuming she figured out this mess and got out of it alive, which was assuming quite a lot.
Bastian was naked and crawling into the bed beside her within a moment. He pressed his lips upon her shoulder as an arm snaked around her belly. “You are the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen,” he murmured, lips brushing against her with each word.
She turned to face him, running her fingers along his strong jawline, his stubble prickly. “I am so happy you’re here with me,” Lena whispered. “I never knew what true happiness was like before now.”
Though she wanted to be free, though she hated Cailan and his collar, it was true. Her men made her so happy, content with her life, whatever stage she was in. They filled her with warm thoughts—and usually inappropriate thoughts, too. She would not trade them for the world.
All the horrors of her past life, all the anxiety and the self-induced panic, the abuse and the lies and the magic that covered it all up and gave her fake memories…none of it mattered. The only thing that mattered was the here and now, and Lena planned on taking full advantage of Bastian’s presence.
Bastian’s head rested on the pillow beside her, his hazel eyes locking with hers. “I’m sorry your life has been so…” He trailed off, unable to find the words.
“It’s okay,” she said, inching her head and her body closer to his, pressing against him fully. She practically purred when he ran a hand up her back. “I am glad you found me that night. Without you, I wouldn’t be here. I wouldn’t have met Ingrid. Though my life hasn’t exactly been great, I wouldn’t change it.”
It was yet another difference between the Lena of today and the Lena of yesterday. Whereas the Lena of yesterday and all the days before would’ve done anything to go back and stop her younger self from making a deal with Zyssept, today she wouldn’t. She wouldn’t go back on all the years she’d spent with Ingrid and the more recent times she’d had with her men—plus, her parents were bastards. They…deserved what happened to them.
They deserved every ounce of pain.
A slow smile spread across Bastian’s face, and Lena leaned into him, pressing her lips onto his, swallowing the smile before it fully formed. He tasted like sweat, but she didn’t care. She wanted him, and she would have him.
Her tongue pushed past his lips, slipping inside his mouth and meeting his. Her hands ran all along his body, tracing his muscles, grabbing his lower back, dragging her nails everywhere they went. Bastian gave a throaty sound when she reached for his cock, her fingers curling around its wide girth as she began stroking him, their mouths still locked. When her tongue disentangled from his, she bit his lower lip gently, tugging. The action made Bastian’s eyes close and another moan escape from him.
And just like his words, his moans were some of the best sounds she’d ever heard.
Lena owned her men, just as they did her. Every single part of them belonged to her, and she would never give them up, never surrender them. She would weather every storm that surged her way, everything life could think to throw at her, if it meant she got to stay with them. She would gladly do anything for them.
She spun, giving him her back, momentarily losing grip on his hard length. She then laid on her stomach on the bed, and Bastian crawled over her, kissing her back, running his tongue along the nape of her neck after moving aside her hair—what he could reach around the collar, anyway. His hands roamed her body, caressing her back, kneading her cheeks before he grabbed himself and pushed inside. There wasn’t an ounce of resistance as he slid in; she was as wet as she could possibly be, ready by its very definition.
Bastian’s arms fell around her, cradling her as his hips thrusted. She was surrounded by him, her back against his front, his arms almost a protective barrier from the world outside the bed. He murmured sweet nothings to her ear, and she closed her eyes and surrendered herself to the embrace of pure bliss.
The bed creaked with each movement of Bastian’s hips, his breathing growing harder in her ear as his speed picked up. They were one as pleasure took them, waves of a sensation so strong, Lena saw stars. He let out a moan behind her, his hips slowing to a halt, though he was unhurried in pulling out. As he did, she felt the wetness between her legs, smiling to herself.
What a night, huh?
Most unfortunately, it wasn’t over yet. There was someone else she had to talk to, but unlike her time with Vale, Tamlen, and Bastian, Lena would do it with her clothes on. Firmly on, no slipping, no bunching, and certainly no tearing.
“Bastian,” she said, watching as he clothed himself. “I need you to find Zyssept.” Lena bent to retrieve her underthings, slipping them on before sliding into her nightgown and tying it tight. “There’s something I must discuss with him.” And, for once, she really did mean discuss. No sexual acts at all.
He made it to the door, only nodding, when he shot her a glance and muttered, “I don’t have to go looking. He’s…he’s here.”
Almost as if the bastard had been expecting this. She should’ve known.
Zys knew she would call him even before she did. He could not tell the entire future, but he knew enough on instinct, and added to the vision he’d seen when he first looked at Lena through the shadows of that mirror…he knew it was time. Time for her to start believing in what they could do together, time for her to turn to him.
Zys sent the others away; even Bastian. The men would need their sleep. Zys would stand watch over her room after their talk was over; he needed no sleep for he was not mortal, just as he needed no nourishment. It wasn’t to say he did not eat and
did not sleep, for he could. His body did not need to, however, like mortals needed to replenish and refuel their bodies.
He stood tall, perhaps somewhat proud, holding his hands clasped behind his back as he walked into her room. Her bedchambers. Zys knew this was not her decorating—it was all so frilly and ridiculous and blue.
Lena had blue hair and blue eyes in his vision, so it was clear to him whatever the future held, it held more with Cailan.
Cailan was something Zys wanted to speak with her about, anyway. After she spoke of whatever it was she wanted, he would bring the prince up. During the coronation, Zys had watched him closely, waiting for something to slip, something to give. And slip it did.
He saw the shadow, saw the tiny wisps curled and rooted inside Cailan’s mind. Cailan was not alone in his body; he shared it with something old and ancient, a being powerful in its own. A spirit. It was most unfortunate Cailan had spotted him staring, and unless Zys wanted to upset the entire royal castle, he had to stop being so obvious.
Lena sat near the archway to her balcony, her legs draped over the round chair. Her thin, small body wore a flimsy nightgown of some sheen fabric, of course a light blue color. She did her best to look uninterested in him, though she was the reason he was here.
However, if push came to shove, Zys would admit he wanted to be here regardless of whether she’d asked for him.
Zys noted the blush that crept up her cheeks, some of it undoubtedly leftover from her excursions with her men…but some of it was for him. He’d believe so, anyway.
“Sit,” she said, coughing, trying to mask the hoarseness of her voice. Lena motioned to the stool sitting opposite hers.
A rounded seat with no armrests and no back, it was a most uncomfortable spot, but Zys tried to smile as he did as she told him. “You look lovely,” he said, solemn and serious in every way.
“I have a question for you,” Lena began, toying with the strap that held her nightgown closed. She had to look away as he stared at her. It shouldn’t surprise him; most mortals were unable to look into his eyes, for they usually saw nothing but emptiness and hopeless death. “Do you think Cailan and I are the same?”
If Zys could see the future, he would have been able to prepare himself for this question. It…startled him, as strange as it was to say. He was a god; he did not get startled. “You…are female, a mage, and much easier to look at than Cailan—”
“No, that’s not—that’s not what I mean,” she cut in with a shake of her head. Her fiery red hair tumbled over her shoulders, still curly from the coronation. Her eyes, though they were a blood-red, were not as hard and stern as she probably desired them to be. “I…killed my parents. Cailan did the same to his father. I don’t know what their relationship was, but I’ve heard the King used to…to hurt him.”
Zys’s silver stare moved to the balcony, slowly rising to the moon. She worried if she was becoming a monster? What could he possibly say to convince her otherwise? Lena did not like him, or at least refused to acknowledge any growing feelings, so why did she ask his opinion on such a thing?
“He is…crazy. I know it,” Lena added. “I don’t want to be just like him.”
He returned his pensive stare to her, saying quickly, “You are nothing like him.”
The seriousness of his declaration caused her to blink rapidly and say, “But—”
“But nothing. Your actions were out of fear, and while you might not regret what you did today, you spent your entire life since then hating yourself and magic. Cailan…may have been hurt in a similar way, but there is a violence in him, a hatred that was not extinguished when he killed his father. He would kill again, if given the chance, I believe. Would you?”
Something passed over her eyes. “I…I don’t know. Maybe. If they deserved it.”
“I think Cailan would debate killing someone if they so much as glanced at him strangely.” Zys had meant his words, but they somehow brought a grin to her face, along with agreement.
“I think you’re right.”
“Is this why you wanted to see me? To talk about Cailan?” Zys watched her bite the inside of her cheek and then her lower lip. It was an almost maddening gesture, one he’d never before seen. And he had the most human of thoughts as he witnessed her do it: he wanted to bite that lip.
“Not entirely,” she said. “I…I’ve decided—I don’t want to marry Cailan.”
He was still far too lost in new, human thoughts to pay much heed to what she’d said. “Then don’t. Do not force yourself to do something you don’t want to do.” What would those lips feel like on his? Zys had touched her in her dreams, but the dream realm was not a real place. Things were far different there…and he hadn’t exactly been welcoming.
Now, he wanted to touch her in a completely different and new way.
“I fear it’s too late. Cailan is obsessed with me. He will not let me go simply because I don’t want to wed him.” Now the nervousness was clear in her voice, and Zys finally snapped out of wondering about her lips to pay full attention to her and her worries.
Zys was utterly certain as he said, “There are always ways around such things.” All she needed to say, all she needed to ask for, was his help, and he would be more than glad to give it. Whether she believed it or not, Lena was his. His future, his wife, his goddess. In years to come, they’d look back on this and laugh.
Or at least he hoped so, for her laughter was enchanting.
“What ways do you know?” She baited him, leaning forward. One of the shoulders on her dress slipped, revealing a few inches of skin. Lena would do everything, it seemed, except explicitly ask for his help. “What ways do you know to get me out of this—” She gently touched the metal necklace around her neck. “—out of here, without causing the annulment of the College? Without creating an even worse madman? I will not let anyone else suffer for my decisions.”
How badly Zys wanted her to ask. He was a prideful thing, and being in a human form did not change it. Regardless of how badly he wanted to help her, to take her, until she asked for him, he would not. Could not.
Zys tried giving her a smile, though he didn’t know how well it played out on his face. “You are not as trapped as you think you are, Lena.”
The hand that gingerly touched the necklace moved to her face, as she quickly turned her head from him. Her breathing hitched, and he waited for her to speak again. It was a long while before she muttered almost inaudibly, “You are a good actor, Zyssept.”
“Please,” he said, reaching for her other hand, the one still resting on her lap. Zys did it without thinking, but once he grasped her palm, neither one of them moved. “Call me Zys. And, in spite of what you might believe, in spite of how I’ve acted towards you, know I am not acting. This is not a ruse. I am here for you, Lena. For you and only you. I’ve brought them for you, done everything I can for you. Every choice you’ve made has been yours. I’ve not kidnapped you away, nor have I stolen you from your bed while you sleep. I bare myself to you when I say wholeheartedly I want you to choose me.” More honest, sincere words he’d never spoken.
His grip on her hand tightened, and her eyes flicked to his. Still, she didn’t pull away. Maybe he was getting to her, after all. Maybe tonight she would finally say the words and choose him.
Lena breathed a slow sigh. “I don’t…” She couldn’t find the words. “I don’t know what to think. I fear you’re starting to win this, Zys.”
Hearing her give into him, even just a little, even just by calling him Zys and not Zyssept, he knew all hope was not lost. He was wearing her down, so to speak. It made him feel…an odd human emotion. Foreign and strange, but as it swept over him a wave of warmth and fuzziness, he wouldn’t have had it any other way.
Zys was happy.
He was so happy his fingers around her palm moved to her wrist, his thumb tracing the vein beneath the skin. She was so soft. An addictive kind of touch. Zys’s gaze fell to her lips, which she surely noticed, for she started
to say, “What are you—” But that’s all he would let her say. She could speak no more because he’d leaned over the space between the cushions and tentatively pressed his lips to hers.
A wholly human gesture, a way mortals exchanged feelings without the need for words. They called it a kiss, and though it looked simple enough, Zys was completely lost in his own head for the duration of it. Was he doing it right? Should he be doing more with his lips? Was there tongue involved? Was Lena simply not pushing him away because she was startled, not because she wanted him to kiss her?
He was a god. This was idiotic; he should not worry about such things. Yet here he was, unable to change it.
And he did not want to end the kiss. If it lasted forever, it would end too soon.
Zys’s free hand went to her neck, the backs of his fingers grazing the skin above the necklace, dancing along her jawline until they wove through her curled hair. Her lips were full and supple, melding against his instead of pushing him away. It took him a moment to realize she was actually kissing him back. Honestly, he didn’t know why the thought shocked him so much, but it did.
Lena withdrew her hand from his on her lap only to wrap both arms around his neck, pulling him to her. She held onto him as her lips parted against his ever so slightly, her tongue licking his top lip before her teeth nipped. A heat burned through him, an utterly new and spectacular sensation Zys adored. He did not want this moment to end anytime soon. If they could go on like this forever, he would be more than fine with it.
Alas, forever it was not meant to be. Not yet. Lena abruptly pulled back from him, her eyes wide and accusatory. Her back straightened, and she practically pushed him away from her as she said, “Leave. Now.” The tone of her voice wavered, shaking as her trembling hands went to her face, cupping her cheeks to hide the redness that had grown there.
Gods and Trickery: A Reverse Harem Fantasy (Unfortunate Magic Book 3) Page 11