by Ella Fields
He chuckled, then drank. “Whatever you desire, silk.”
We sat in taut silence for minutes, drinking and staring straight ahead at the pockmarked walls.
When half the bottle was gone, I felt my stomach relax and my limbs grow heavier. Some would say it wasn’t wise for a high royal to lose their wits with so many visitors from across our lands, but even with many a tense period, Rosinthe had been a continent of peace for a millennia now. Ever since the goddesses declared two of their children king and queen, deposited them on either side of this mystical land, and then disappeared inside the mists.
So although it wasn’t wise, most royals did as they pleased. Which often involved drinking until they couldn’t make out their linked ones from someone else’s. That was entertaining to watch, so I always made sure I was just the right amount of drunk so as not to miss out on the foolery.
“Have you linked?” I wasn’t sure where the urge to know came from, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to analyze it either.
To link was to find what humans would call a soul mate, only with a bond far stronger. Those who happened to bond in such a permanent way had a heightened sense of awareness of their linked one—in some rare cases, glimpses of what they were feeling. Though typically, they’d need to be in the same vicinity, or close by, for the bond to work in such a way. I’d heard only matters of life or death or extreme emotional turmoil could be felt through the connection should they be in different lands.
And supposedly, sex as a linked couple was said to be indescribable—an overflow of euphoria that could never be found elsewhere.
But all magical things must have their pitfalls. Jealousy, paranoia, and obsessiveness were just some of the lovely things to look forward to when or if we linked. I’d heard of some royals ending themselves over their linked’s eyes falling on someone else too long, touching them too long, and even of some ending other people.
Needless to say, there were more guards in attendance at social events and heavily populated areas for this reason.
“No,” Raiden said, his bottle of wine clinking to the ground. Lying back, he stretched his arms above his head. The bags of grain groaned and shifted beneath his weight. “There’d been a time I thought I might have, but it never happened.” His voice was clear, but his eyes held that sparkling sheen of intoxication.
“With whom?” I asked, leaning down on an elbow.
He smiled, quick and sweet. “Never you mind. What made you ask that?”
I struggled to form an answer, due to having none. “I was just curious.” I adjusted my gown, fingers skimming over the soft layers. “Arranged marriages are a business deal. I’ve heard that in centuries gone past, there have been some high royals who allowed their spouses to live with their linked ones.”
“Some.” Raiden watched my hand as it glided over my dress, the red swimming with the shadows beneath the meager light. “You’ve linked? I’d have scented it, surely.”
It was but a rumor, I thought, that royal males and even some mixed males could scent linked females. A sign to stay away. Females, however, could not do the same. Even if it were two females who linked. I thought it unjust that we had not been created with equal gifts such as that. Another reason I did my best to ensure I was on equal footing or, in most cases, much higher than the males around me.
My lids drooped as I reclined and curled my arm beneath my cheek. “I’m not linked to anyone, nor do I think I’d like to be.”
Raiden stared up at the ceiling. “Why?”
His profile was perfect, angular slopes, his lashes more prominent. Like that of butterfly wings. “You ask a lot of questions, Prince.”
He turned his head. “Only when I’m interested in knowing the answers, silk.”
My nose crinkled. “I don’t like that.”
“Lie.”
My chest rose with a harsh breath as I squinted at him. I chose to defer. “And I don’t like the idea of some male bossing me around, impregnating me with babe after babe, and then getting to have all the fun.”
It grew impossibly warm, and it dawned on me, as I laid awake in the earlier hours the following morning, that maybe Raiden wasn’t in full control of his reactions either. At least, not around me. “We will need to have many heirs.”
I swallowed, diverting my attention to the strong column of his thick throat. It wasn’t that I didn’t want children. We were a species obsessed with the idea of reproducing. Only one out of two royal babes made it through their infant years due to our bloodline being too much for their tiny bodies and hearts. It wasn’t something we mourned for long, being that we cannot allow the weak into our lineage. When an infant survived long enough to see their second birthday, we celebrated. Only the strongest survived, which ensured we kept our lineage as powerful, pure, and prosperous as possible.
Those amongst a mixed bloodline had their own issues, such as the struggle to carry a babe to term and stillbirth. However, if their newborns survived birth, they had a much greater chance of surviving beyond that than us royals, due to less inherited magic.
“At the risk of being too presumptuous, I’m going to guess you’re not exactly the nurturing type.”
My eyes snapped to Raiden’s. “Presumptuous is right.” Though he was right. I wasn’t nurturing, and should the day come, I feared I wouldn’t be nurturing enough. The last thing this land needed was another tyrant steering the ship. I wouldn’t admit that to him, though. “You know too little about me to assume.”
He didn’t argue with that. “Tell me, Princess, do you really believe our parents’ plan to unite our two kingdoms is going to put our people at ease?”
There’d been talk of rebellion, of riots and spies in different parts of the land. They were the reason I was here, lying face to face with a precarious future I never saw coming. “My father has always been this way.” I rolled to my back. “I don’t know why they’re making a fuss about it now.”
His voice quietened. “Because this past decade he’s grown worse. He’s… unstable. Old.”
No one was more aware of that than I. Still, I scoffed. “Age is but a number.” I hated my father—loathed him with a vehemence unlike any other—yet no amount of hate could ever kill love entirely, no matter how small. “And do you really believe this alliance will quell the people’s concerns?”
A dripping sound ventured into the room from deep within the cellars. “It’s a start,” he said before standing up. “What really happened to your mother?”
Shocked, I didn’t answer for the longest time, and perhaps that was answer enough.
He held his hand out, and I eyed it a moment before sliding mine inside his, relishing the feel and trying to tame the loud echo of my heart.
I rose from the sacks of grain in a swift move that had my hands flying to his chest. I left them there, feeling the hot concrete pound of his own heart beneath my fingertips. “He killed her.” The memory struck me, cleaved me open enough for Raiden to see it within my eyes as he lifted my chin. Leaving my tent to find her, chasing her screams, watching and screaming for her, and then being dragged away by my father… “But it matters not anymore.”
His brows gathered, his thumb a steady, gentle pulse rubbing over my chin. “You were ten summers old. She’d been dancing and drinking at Inkerbine and left the bonfire with a group of males…” Inkerbine was notorious for its partner swapping, inhibition ridding wild ways. It was a celebration of our land, our existence, peace, and it took place every year after a double full moon.
I detested it.
My voice was ice. “She was raped and tortured in the woods by countless men, dead for days before anyone found her.”
“That’s what happened to her?” Raiden’s eyes showed no pity, only vivid curiosity.
I nodded, knowing I’d said too much, and went to leave. “I said nothing. I will deny everything. And then I will feed you your own testicles should I hear that you ran away with this knowledge.”
He grabbed me arou
nd the waist, and then I was being pressed into the wall. “Princess, everyone already knows.”
At that, I smiled. “No, they only think they do. Rumors are but false ribbons of truth braided into patterns to suit the weaver.”
He looked at the ground a moment. “I’ve upset you.”
“You couldn’t upset me if you tried.” I fluttered my lashes at him. “Now, excuse—”
His rough exhale and the wild dancing within his eyes were all the warning I had before his lips were on mine, and my hands were over my head, attached to the wall by his as he pried my mouth open and set my entire world aflame.
His tongue didn’t enter, but his breath did, scorching and heating my throat while he rubbed his bottom lip between my lips. I’d never been kissed like that before. I never knew such tenderness could feel so vicious, as though it might just casually stroll in and lay something vital inside you to waste.
It was ice and fire and wine and water—a world of contradictions that should never meet.
Because one taste, one mixing of what shouldn’t be, and every ounce of who I was could simply cease to exist as I once did.
Music and laughter could be heard, dancing upon the stale air of the cellar, but all I could feel and taste was him. Wine, apples, and singed sugar. Damp, gentle lips and hard edges against my soft.
He released my hands to frame my face, his mouth departing mine as his forehead fell against my own. “Intoxicating.”
I couldn’t respond, could only breathe and feel my breasts press desperately into his body.
When I opened my eyes to find his gazing down at me, his chest heaving, I grabbed the neckline of his tunic and pressed my lips to his for one last fleeting kiss. A quick sweep of my tongue over his, velvet heat quaking my knees. A kiss distracting enough to tear myself away from him and race alone up the stairs.
With my heart beating irregularly, I hid from the prince for the duration of the night.
A harsh, slow clapping ensued, dragging my mind back to the present. “I just…” Raiden shook his head. “Where in the darkness did you get this shit from? I can tell it’s not made-up. I’d ask who this male really was, but I don’t care enough to know.”
I jumped down from the bench and ran my fingers through my hair. Raiden was still sitting as he had been when I’d begun, with his eyes closed and his face angled toward the ancient ceiling.
“I forget nothing, Prince. And hopefully soon, you’ll be able to remember.”
“It won’t work,” he said when I’d reached the gate.
I turned to find him standing with his hands wrapped around the bars of his cell.
“You know it won’t. Whoever I was, whatever you think I was?” His voice lacked emotion. “He’s gone, Queen Audra.”
The use of my name caught me off guard. Annoyance a wildfire erasing fond memories. “Then I suggest you cooperate in making sure he comes back.”
He chuckled; the sound so soft, I almost missed it. “You’re going to kill me anyway, probably Casilla too. What game are you playing, Queen?” He shook his head, then rattled the bars with a growl that rumbled through the deep, haunting space. “I want out. I want off the game board and into the darkness.”
I took a step closer. “So you’d rather die than spend more time recounting your past with me?”
He stared for a thundering beat, his expression hard and unreadable, then nodded. “But I will play if you bring her to me.”
I eyed him up and down, forcing a pout. “Darling Prince, you seem to have lost your mind after all.”
He frowned, hands slipping from the metal of his cage.
“Those at the mercy of a monster do not get to bargain.” I meandered through the gate, and it rolled to a close. “For when they dare try, they simply continue to bleed.”
The dungeon door shut over the sound of his agonized shouts.
Screaming. He was screaming. For her.
He was going to die. He was going to die, and all he could think about was her.
Anger had never felt quite so alive to me before that moment. So crystal sharp it sliced inside flesh and imbedded within my very bones. The ache, the tension, the atrocity that was having someone who’d already betrayed you sink that knife in farther… It was almost enough to send me into a mindless pit of nothing.
I was already halfway there.
If the traitorous whore male pushed any harder, I feared myself more than I feared how it would feel to disappear inside this insidious feeling completely.
Inside my rooms, unsure of how I’d even arrived there—if I’d taken the typical corridors and quicker routes or walked for long minutes—I moved to the glass-wrapped cabinet in the sitting room, my small personal armory. Opening it, I dragged my fingers over the blades within.
I’d never named them. Some had a penchant for naming their weapons as if they were a second skin, an extension of them. I preferred not to be such a walking cliché.
The dagger would do. I tugged it from its hook inside the velvet-lined space and skimmed my finger over the sunken ruby throwing beaded light from the hilt.
“What do you plan to do with that?”
I’d been so distracted, so enmeshed in my ire, that yet again, the lord had managed to sneak up on me. But I didn’t flinch. “Not that it’s any of your concern, but I’m feeling…” I smiled as the blade sliced into the first layer of skin of my pointer finger. Pain. There was such an understated anticipation associated with pain. “Generous.”
Zadicus blocked the doorway to my bed chamber, arms crossed and his eyes curious with his feet braced as though he thought he could stop me. “The girl? Or Raiden?”
“That thing is no girl,” I spat. “It’s an animal who will pay for going against the wishes of the queen.”
Zad’s bland expression didn’t change as his eyes absorbed the blood bubbling along my finger. “You wish to torture or kill her?”
“Oh, both. So”—I shifted forward—“if you’ll excuse me.”
He chuckled. “How about…” He snuck an arm around my waist, mint and cloves inhabiting my nose. Warm temptation filled my ear. “You find a healthier outlet for this rage?”
I frowned, but curious, I let him pluck the blade from my hand. “What do you have in mind?”
The dagger hit the plush rug with barely a thud, and then his hand was in my hair, rough and possessive, as were his lips as they melded to mine.
Our hands began to tear at clothing, my teeth tore at his lip, and then I was against the wall, and he was inside me. There was no fuss and no preparation—not that it was needed. Bewildering, considering he was a male I so often despised.
And if I couldn’t cut skin from flesh, then what I needed was this. Him. Long, thick, hot, and bruising as he entered me in one thrust. His hands around my legs as they tried to climb his wide back, and my nails dunking inside the smooth muscular divots of his shoulders as he growled into my ear. “Open your eyes.”
“Why?” I stammered, already breathless.
“Because Queen,” he said gruffly. “You’ll not think of anyone, of anything, but me when I’m inside you.”
I opened them, if only to make sure he didn’t stop thrusting in and out of me with such delicious, tormenting strokes. “I hate him.”
“I know,” he rasped, eyes bright and fevered, breath mingling with mine.
My hands moved to his hair, and I tugged at the long thick strands. “I hate you, too.”
His harsh exhale and voice were rough. “I know.”
Trapping his bottom lip between my fingers, I whispered, “But I hate you the least.”
Soft and stomach snatching, his tongue snaked out to lick my thumb. “I know.”
“Make me forget everything but this.”
Nostrils flaring, the challenge lit Zad’s features with brutish beauty, and then he was stalking out of the sitting room straight to my bed. He laid me down, then grabbed my ankles, pulling me forward to meet his hungry length, and eased back inside.
My head rolled back into the sheets as he tugged me closer, impossibly close, until my legs were against his chest and he was able to lick the curve of my ankle when he turned his head.
Heat gathered and combusted, the sound of our bodies meeting numbing everything within me as pleasure rose in a tidal wave. It crashed over me within minutes, but he wasn’t satisfied with that and flipped me over to enter me from behind.
A fist wrapped in my hair had my back arching, and his other hand around my breast had me mewling.
“Your cunt has never felt so wet, so hot.” His words were strained—tight. “I want to stay inside you for eternity.”
I panted out, “You just want me at your mercy for eternity.”
He laughed, the sound stained with his ragged breaths as he slammed home and rotated his hips, teeth nipping at my ear. “Your body tells me it wouldn’t mind.”
I moaned as he aimed with perfect precision and set me climbing once again, my hips rocking back into him to hit that spot continuously. “Enough chitchat,” I moaned. “Make me come again.”
His hand left my breast, traveling down my spine until it reached the curve of my back, and then it dipped lower. It left my skin, and I heard him suck, and then I screamed as it returned and rubbed over that puckered hole.
“That’s it, shake for me. Fucking drench me.”
He held me to him as he pumped one last time and then stilled, roaring into the moonlit shadows.
Afterward, I laid sprawled over his stomach with his fingers in my hair, his sated eyes fixed on the swollen moon.
“What do you think of when you stare at it so intensely?”
Zad’s fingers stilled, then began another sweep through my locks. “Everything and nothing.”
I shifted, resting my cheek over his abdominals, the sound of his heart and the rush of his blood a quiet hum in my ear. His long copper hair shined under the glow of night, and I absorbed the way it bounced off his angular cheeks and that crooked nose. As though his skin rejected it even though he adored it.