Beginning's End

by M. Dalto

  The panic must have been evident on Alex’s face, for Reylor reassuringly took her hand in his.

  “Nothing remains,” was all he said, but she could tell he was aware of the reasons for her reservations. “What I need to show you must stay secret.”

  He led her further in, a small globe of red light leading their way, a speck of the magic he possessed but rarely used. The dark, stone hallways felt smaller than she remembered, but she quickly realized it was the silence pressing in on her more than anything else.

  Reylor soon brought her to the dungeon cells that lined each side of the hallway before them, gaping holes whose bars made it look like vicious teeth grinning maliciously at her. She swallowed and held on to Reylor’s hand a little tighter.

  “This way,” he urged, his voice low and hurried.

  She followed him until he stopped at a far cell, and with a snap of his fingers she heard a lock click open, and the door swung in.

  From where she stood, the cell was dark, at first appearing empty and quiet as the Lord Steward moved in deeper, allowing the red orb of light to follow him, sending it to the ceiling of the cell to grow larger and brighter, coating the whole area in a dim red glow.

  Alex saw the inhabitant of the cell.

  She was without words as he stood upon seeing her, clearing his throat before greeting her.

  “Hello, Mother.”

  Chapter Twenty

  “I still don’t understand.”

  Alex was pacing back and forth across her bedroom while Reylor lounged on the bed, watching her. Their intimate mood had taken a definite turn since the discovery of Lexan’s presence within the Empire, and now Alex wasn’t anywhere near the sexual readiness she had felt an hour ago in the gardens.

  “What is there you don’t understand?” Reylor drawled from where he lay. “We are going to use him to our benefit to regain the upper hand against the Borderlands.”

  “Can we trust him?”

  “If he knows what is best.”

  The meeting with Lexan had been brief, but it still rung through Alex’s head as she replayed the conversation over and over and over. How Reylor knew of Lexan’s moves, she was still uncertain, but to know there was a spy within their Council was even more astonishing. Especially when they had gone to such great lengths to rebuild in a way that would be the best for the Empire.

  Now Lexan was to be their spy.

  “If anyone knows how to play the game, Alex, it’s our son.” Reylor had rolled over onto his back, looking up at the canopy above the bed, as if he knew he would grab her attention by using ‘our’ when speaking of Lexan. “You told me yourself how well he convinced you otherwise in the Otherrealm.”

  “This is different, Reylor,” Alex pleaded. “After everything he’s done—everything they’re capable of—”

  “Forgiveness is the road to redemption.”

  She glared at him and he angled his head in her direction.

  “Truth be told, I’m not entirely fond of using him either, but it’s better than the alternative.”

  “Which is?”

  “Having him storm his troops upon the palace when we’re none the wiser.”

  “He said he would have come to talk to us first.”

  “We would have rejected his request, and the palace would be in a far worse state than it is now. Now that we have the situation handled on our terms, we’ll be better prepared.”

  “What of the Council’s mole?”

  Reylor sighed, returning his gaze to the ceiling. “I haven’t decided what to do with him yet. Unfortunately, I like him enough that I don’t want harm to come to him, but—”

  “But?”

  “But if anyone discovered him for who he is, or that we knew and still allowed him to stay...” He shook his head.

  Alex stopped her pacing at Reylor’s admission. Uncertainty did not sit well with him. “So, we’ll talk to the spy in the morning.”

  “We’ll bring him to the cabin in the morning,” he corrected, finally sitting up to face her. “Or at least I will.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “I told Lexan to wait for my arrival before he departs back to the Borderlands, and the Council member will be coming with me.”

  “Why?”

  “This way we can have a conversation and stay on the same page. While Lexan returns to the Borderlands, intent on informing the Councillor and his wife that we whole-heartedly agreed to their surrender, his spy will remain with us and be our contact to Lexan and vice versa. We will, in the meantime, prepare our forces while we decide the best way to infiltrate without being detected.”

  “If we’re readying our forces for an attack, why even bother to sneak in?”

  “Because, Empress, our forces are never going to step foot in the Borderlands.” He flashed her a smile that only meant there was more to his plan, and he was not going to divulge it unless she asked.

  Shaking her head because she was tired of asking questions, she made her way over towards the bed, situating herself between his legs, looking down at him.

  Reylor casually folded his arms behind his head as he looked up at her. “Yes, Empress?”

  She tried to soften her face from the turmoil that ran underneath. “How many more games do we need to play?”

  “As many as it takes.”

  “At what cost?”

  “Whatever it takes.”

  Alex let out an exasperated sigh. Having Lexan involved did not sit well with her.

  “Alex,” Reylor said softly, as if trying to recapture her from her thoughts. He leaned up, extending his hand towards her. “I believe we have some unfinished business to attend to.”

  The look in his eyes and the grin he gave her sent a surge of heat down her spine, and she took his hand as she crawled onto the bed, on top of him.

  “Matters of great importance to the Empire, I’m sure?” she asked with laughter in her voice as she knelt above him, propping herself up by her hands near his shoulders.

  “Great importance,” he echoed as he looked up at her. “The very future of the Empire hinges on every decision we make, right here, right now.”

  “Oh, is that so?” Alex laughed, but a part of her wondered how much of a game they were truly playing.

  His deep red eyes met hers as a finger came up to twirl a strand of her hair that was falling into his face. “It is.”

  The laughter fell out of her voice as she carefully asked, “And what decisions do we need to make, exactly?”

  He paused but for a moment. “I want you to marry me.”

  Her heart skipped a beat, and she was about to make a retort, but his fingers came up to her lips to keep her quiet.

  “I want you to think about it—really think about it—before giving me your answer.”

  She had thought about it, she wanted to tell him. She was thinking about it just earlier that night, but there was something in his request, almost a plea, that made her reconsider, and she nodded instead. He removed his fingers from her lips, and she leaned down so their noses practically touched.

  “When can I give you my response?” she whispered.

  “In a week,” he said without hesitation, his breath warm on her lips.

  “A week then,” she agreed, bringing her lips to his to continue where they left off.

  And Reylor was more than happy to oblige.

  Wrapping his arms around her, he flipped Alex over onto her back, adjusting himself between her legs, not once breaking their kiss. His hands found themselves under her tunic, and the feeling of his palms against her breasts drew a low moan against his lips.

  As if the sound alone was enough to spur him on, he began to grind against her, and Alex quickly realized there were too many layers between them. She broke their kiss only to remove her own shirt, and immediately helped him with the removal of his before his mouth came crashing down on hers once again.

  Her hands explored his back, his chest, his shoulders as if she needed to memori
ze every muscle of his body like her life depended on it. His hands were doing their own exploring, roaming from her breasts to her sides to her stomach until his fingers began running along underneath the band of her pants, begging for entry.

  She lifted her hips against him in response, and her pants were gone in one swift movement. His lips began to trail down her neck to her chest, kissing her nipples on the way down. It wasn’t until he was below her belly button that she understood his true intentions, and it wasn’t until he had wrapped his arms around her thighs that she realized she had stopped breathing.

  Every lick of Reylor’s tongue against her, every brush of his lips against her most sensitive parts, had her hips moving with him until the heat of her climax washed over her, but even that was not enough for him to stop as his fingers quickly replaced where his mouth had been, and he retraced his way back up along her body until he had one nipple in his mouth and she was writhing against him again.

  She could barely gasp out his name as she rode the waves of pleasure a second time, and only then did he remove his mouth, his fingers, and kneel back between her legs. The look on his face as he watched her while finally untying his pants immediately had her needing more of him, in any way she could get, and she was on her hands and knees, crawling over to him by the time he stood to fully remove his pants.

  She took the length of him in her mouth and the groan that escaped his throat was more than enough to encourage her to keep going. His hands tangled themselves in her hair as she worked him with her mouth, and his hips began to move with her of their own volition.

  She didn’t want to stop—she was content to finish him right there, but it seemed as though Reylor had another idea in mind. He removed himself from her mouth, but before she could protest, he had his hands on her hips and was flipping her around, raising her hips to meet him as he entered without hesitation.

  Alex was sure her moans could have been heard on the other side of the palace, but she didn’t care. When he wrapped his hand around her to rub between her legs, she all but screamed his name into the blankets beneath her as she rode another wave of pleasure towards completion.

  He was not far behind as his thrusts intensified, and the sound of skin on skin was matched only by their broken breaths and the sound of her name on his lips as he worked through his own undoing.

  She would have collapsed on the bed if his arms hadn’t wrapped around her waist, if he didn’t lay his chest flush against her back, if his lips hadn’t found their way to her shoulders, her neck.

  “I love you,” he murmured against her sweat-slick skin.

  And she didn’t doubt him for one moment.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  The remainder of the week was the longest of Reylor’s existence.

  It had nothing to do with the pending threat made by the Crown Princess.

  Reylor had decided the moment Sarayna made her proposition that he was not going to allow her to dictate how he lived his life.

  He had spent too many years living with threats against him—he wasn’t about to let them control him now.

  Even when it involved Alexstrayna.

  Even when it involved his brother’s survival.

  Reylor leaned back in his chair at the Council table, empty since the meeting adjourned hours ago. Alex had given him a suggestive glance, which he cataloged to make good on later that afternoon, but it was Sarayna’s smirk as she departed that reminded him she was still counting down the days, and where she was concerned time was running short.

  Where he was concerned, Treyan was dead. For all intents and purposes, he died in the Borderlands. As far as the Empire was concerned—his brother was buried within the palace crypts.

  When Alexstrayna had been rendered unconscious, and Sarayna would not leave her mother’s side, it was up to Reylor to tend to the body and see to its proper burial.

  He knew the spell existed. It had been cast on his mother upon her passing years before. In his studies within the Borderlands during his darker days, he had come across it, but the necessary methods, the components needed...

  It was out of sheer desperation that he even attempted it on Treyan. That he could survive, and Alexstrayna could again be happy...at the time that meant more to him than anything else. Even his own potential for happiness.

  Yet…Reylor never expected her to love him. Never like he loved her.

  Now that happiness hung in the balance, threatened by the very actions done to preserve her happiness in the first place.

  Reylor began to wonder if he was truly cursed.

  Letting loose a sigh, he ran his hands through his blond hair.

  No, the reasoning for his restlessness was not because of Sarayna’s pending revelation of his indiscretion.

  It was because he had asked Alexstrayna to marry him.

  And she was thinking about it.

  And would have an answer for him tomorrow.

  As optimistic as he wanted to be, a part of him remained ever the pessimist, and couldn’t help but theorize what he would do if she said no.

  If Sarayna upheld her threat and told her mother about Treyan’s survival, that very well could be her answer.

  It was also why Reylor took his chances when choosing the date—he almost wanted Sarayna to show her hand, to see if she would follow through.

  It would serve her right, he surmised as he sat up straight, focusing on the papers before him. Reylor had been playing these games since before she was born—he was not one to be easily intimidated by threats.

  It may work on her Emperor, he smirked to himself, but it would never work on the Lord Steward.

  “He hasn’t told her.”

  Jared looked up at her from the book he was reading. Sarayna couldn’t sit still and was pacing in between the stacks of the library as the day grew late

  “What makes you think that?” His grey eyes glistened in the sunlight, and for a moment Sara was glad to see the powers of the Empire allowed him freedom from his glasses. Not that she minded them—they made him appear very studious—but she loved looking directly at his eyes.

  “For starters, if my mother had the slightest inkling that my father was still alive, chances are the palace would no longer be standing, and Reylor would be strung out to dry.”

  “Your mother seems happy, Sara," Jared added. “Is it so wrong to take that happiness from her?”

  “She can be happy, but not with him!”

  “She doesn’t know any better, you’re saying?”

  “Yes!”

  “Sara,” Jared sighed. “Do you even know if your father is coming back? If he can come back?”

  “I’m going to do everything in my power to make it happen.”

  “Even if it ruins your mother?”

  “That will be the least of her concerns. If my father returns to find out what Reylor has done to her—”

  “It seems as though she’s been completely consenting in their relationship.”

  “She doesn’t know any better! She’s desperate...she’s lonely...that’s the only explanation!”

  “It seems, Princess, that that might be the only explanation for you.”

  Sarayna stopped pacing and looked at Jared. In a way, he was right—there was no other explanation as far as Sara was concerned. She would be damned if her mother threw it all away—everything she and her father had created—because she was too much of a fool to see what was happening right in front of her.

  She finally sat in the chair across from Jared, letting out a breath. “Regardless of what happens, she is going to find out.”

  “Fine,” Jared conceded, spreading his hands on the table. “In the meantime, maybe we should focus on more important things...”

  “What’s more important than my father’s survival?” Sara had to raise her eyebrows at Jared’s suggestion.

  Jared shrugged. “My coronation for one...” He gave her a shy smile. “Our wedding, for another...”

  “You can’t be serious.�
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  “Why not?” He seemed slightly offended.

  She looked at him for a moment. “You are serious.”

  He met her gaze. “Would it be so bad?”

  “I suppose that all depends on who you ask.”

  “Like whom?”

  “My parents, for one. They didn’t exactly have the most luxurious marriage.”

  “No one really does. They did love each other, right?”

  Her smirk faltered. “I thought they did.”

  “Sara, you can’t honestly think that your mother’s recent actions...”

  “You have no idea how much she hated him! They both did. After what he did to her—”

  “Isn’t that for your mother to decide? To deal with?”

  “What about my father?” Sara stood from her chair again. “Does she just then forget about the time she spent with him? About what he meant to her? Just because she thinks he’s dead doesn’t mean—”

  “It doesn’t mean your mother needs to be a solitary widow for the rest of her life.”

  “It means she doesn’t just get to throw their love away because she’s looking for someone else to fuck!”

  Jared glared at her a moment longer. “This isn’t about her at all is it?”

  “Don’t try to analyze me.”

  “No, I think I’m starting to understand.”

  Sarayna let out a growl and began her pacing again but said nothing.

  Jared watched her as she paced back and forth. “It’s you who thinks she should have remained faithful to your father, even after death.”

  “He’s not dead!”

  “She doesn’t know that!” Jared stood from his chair, his arms braced on the table. “You can’t fault her for following her heart when she thought she’d never fall in love again.”

  “Stop acting like you know!”

  “Why? Because you don’t want to hear it?”

  “Because it’s none of your business!”

  Jared raised his eyebrows at her, astonished by her outburst, but let out a sigh as he closed the book in front of him. “Fine, Sara. Have it your way.”

  “Where are you going?” she asked hurriedly as he picked up the closed book.