by Ella Fields
I blocked the nightmare that tried to force its way in. One of a similar scene with a different female. I had to, or I’d be of no help to her, just as I hadn’t been then.
Seeming in shock, Raiden just stood there, his eyes vacant and his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides.
“Seize them,” I told the blinking guards, who snapped into action and grabbed four of the five males.
One jumped over the ledge, landing on a trellis, and then leaped to the ground.
I sucked the air from his lungs, and he toppled over.
Then I crouched down beside Truin as Raiden yelled for a healer. Shifting some of her damp hair from her face, I found a swollen eye. “Truin.” I gingerly patted her cheek and growled when Raiden approached, attempting to roll her over.
He raised his hands, his expression filled with apprehension. “I will not harm her, I swear.”
I had no choice other than to believe him, my heart beating in my throat as he picked her up.
Like a tree folding in the wind, Truin flopped within his arms. He shifted her, moving inside the rapidly emptying room to lay her on the same chaise we’d sat upon hours earlier.
Her eyes fluttered, and two spellcasters entered the room, their faces grim as they studied her.
With a gasp, Truin tried to sit up, and the healer removed her hands from her thighs, waiting for her to gather her bearings.
“It’s okay,” I told her. It wasn’t. I highly doubted much would be okay for her from this nightmare night forward. My hands gripped her shoulders, gently easing her back, her head falling to my lap. “They’re trying to help.”
One eye blinked up at me, and a bomb of every fury imaginable detonated when a lone tear slid down her cheek into her vivid curls. “Audra.” My name was a rasp, choked, barely a breath.
I smoothed her hair from her face, nodding at the healer who was waiting between Truin’s legs. Truin screamed, but I refused to let her head move. “Do you remember when I was twelve, and you found me out in the gardens, trying to capture bees?”
Truin’s eye was overflowing with pain and horror, her lips muttering fast, “Stop, please, stop.”
My tone firmed. “Do you remember?”
She gulped, a quaked exhale fleeing her cracked lips, and nodded.
“You asked why I was trying to capture them.” I waited, and her legs shifted, wanting to close. “Why, Truin?”
“You,” she croaked, coughing. “You said you wanted to bake them into a cake.”
I nodded. “And to give it to Regineld.” Regineld had been my father’s favored guard, his right hand in many disgusting ways.
He was a brute, an asshole, and evil right down to his very core.
“It took you a minute,” I said with a wet laugh. “You watched me throw walls of air throughout the garden, the stunned bees falling.” The memory of the thawing rose petals, the scent of jasmine and new grass, carried us both to a different time, a better place. “Then I picked them up, one by one with my gloved hands, and dropped them into a box.”
The murmurs from the healers weren’t quiet enough for my liking, but I refused to take my eyes or my attention from Truin. “I was c-confused.”
Blinking fast, I could barely hear myself talk, the roaring inside my ears growing too loud. “You were, and it amused me.”
“You wanted him to eat it,” she said after a moment of staring at me, at nothing. “The cake.”
“I wanted him to taste what it was like to feel your body die a thousand deaths on the inside while still remaining perfectly fine on the outside.” I licked my drying lips. “And you said…”
“Vengeance will cost you your soul.”
I nodded again. “And I said—”
“That you cared not, for your soul was already black.”
“Yes,” I whispered, and her hand, bloodied and trembling, rose to mine on her cheek. Her fingers wrapped around my own, her grip almost painful as her lips wobbled.
Leaning down, I allowed my whispered words and lips to caress her forehead. “I will destroy them with my bare fucking hands, this I swear.”
It was not like Truin to encourage me, but lying below me, broken and terrified, she just nodded, and closed her eye.
The witches stayed with Truin, muttering incantations I didn’t understand, and lulled her into a deep sleep.
When I was certain she wouldn’t stir, I gently laid her head on the chaise and crossed the empty room to Raiden.
He’d been leaning by the far wall, his expression void. “Unless you want a war, I’d have transport provided. Your most trusted driver. Only one. Now.”
“Audra, you have to know I never—”
“Now.”
“I gave my word she wouldn’t be harmed, and I meant it. I left her under supervision of my best guards. She was not treated as a prisoner.”
“She was kept in your dungeon, was she not?”
His teeth clamped together, and he sighed at the ground. “Yes.”
“Then how were you to know what was happening to her, or that she wasn’t treated as a prisoner? You were too busy worrying about your ego and cock to do as I requested countless times and take me to her.”
When his head rose, I almost flinched at what I saw in his eyes. “I failed you. I have failed you more than I can bear, and I am sorry.”
Unsure what to say, only certain that I wanted to remove Truin from the place that’d surely marked her pure soul, I looked back over at her sleeping, bruised form. “I wish to leave. I must leave. Do not make this any worse than it already is.”
His fingers skimmed my hand, and I did flinch then, watching as he left the ballroom.
I traipsed back over to Truin, standing beside her, every sense heightened as I watched the healers pack away their kits and bow.
“How,” I said, stopping to clear my throat. “How bad is it?”
The young one with violent orange hair looked at the woman next to her, who, after running her somber eyes over me, nodded.
“She needed to be stitched several times,” she said. “We put her to sleep first so she didn’t feel it. She will remain asleep for most of your journey home.”
She knew, or guessed, that we’d be leaving. I was thankful they’d done that for her.
The older witch with gray seeping into her burnt orange hair, stepped forward, her voice low. “She will heal just fine.” Her gaze drifted over Truin, returning to mine with knowing gray eyes. “On the outside.”
My own closed briefly, a breath shaken from my lungs, but I nodded. “Thank you,” I said.
They stopped on their way to the door, turning back to curtsy, deep and with their heads dipped. “We are honored to be of help.”
Raiden returned a minute later. “A carriage is ready and waiting in the courtyard.”
I didn’t care that it was dark and therefore more dangerous. I was getting us home as soon as possible.
With a gentle ease, he maneuvered Truin into his arms, and I followed him out, flicking my eyes everywhere, looking for threats.
I climbed in first so he could lay her over the soft leather seat with her head upon my thigh. “Let me come with you.”
I almost laughed. “Not a chance, King.”
“Audra,” he said. “It is not safe to be journeying across the border, across the continent, with just a driver.”
“We will manage.”
“At least let me have some of my best warriors—”
I held up a hand at that. “And what if she wakes? What if the sight of them alone is enough to have her screaming and alerting every danger in the dark to our presence? No,” I said. “Your warriors have done enough.”
“They’re not all savages,” he said.
“I do not care what they are. I care only that you brought her here when it was unnecessary, and now, she will forever pay the price for your childish behavior.” And my own.
For if I had been more forceful and less inclined to humor the rubble that was onc
e my heart… I gritted my teeth and sat back in the seat.
Raiden’s eyes darkened, his throat bobbing as he backed out of the doorway. “You’re right.”
I faced forward, telling the driver to go.
“Let me know if there is anything I can do.”
“Yes.” I pulled the shutter on the window. “Leave me alone.”
Zadicus
The queen stumbled through the courtyard with a bottle of wine in hand.
Standing in the shadows against the rough wall, I watched as she righted herself, glared at the glass bottle, and then took another sip.
It’d been two weeks since the king’s passing. Ten days since she’d exiled her own husband.
Raiden had been sent to The Edges, where he’d live out his days wholly unaware he was a king, a husband, and a waste of fucking flesh who never deserved to so much as look at Audra, let alone find a way inside the fortress she’d erected around her heart.
She’d delayed it as much as possible, and Mintale, forever loyal Mintale, had done all he could to postpone it for the heartbroken princess.
But the princess could remain a princess no more. This evening was her coronation.
Only twenty summers old, and now, Audra was the queen of the entire continent.
During the whole silent and tense ordeal, not once had she smiled or seemed to appreciate that which had been bestowed on her.
Not that many could blame her. Her entire world had been reduced to a wave of rubble that kept on rolling.
She wouldn’t let me in. I knew that, and still, I gave her all she’d let me—my presence.
“Stupid, ghastly thing,” she muttered, plucking the crown from her head.
I bit my lips, then winced as she tossed the precious heirloom into the rose bushes and walked up the damp, leaf-strewn path.
Her gown, creamy white silk with skirts that would make most topple, ate half of the bench seat, the silver-beaded roses and jewels of the bodice glinting beneath the moon.
She sat alone, as she so often did, with the bottle hanging from her hand. It plonked to the grass, wine spilling beneath her bare feet, but she did not seem to notice. Or perhaps she just did not care.
Plucking a rose from the small cluster behind her, she cupped it within her snowy hands and gazed down at it as though it would answer all her misery-laden questions.
Purposely treading on a stick, I made my presence known as I walked up the path.
She didn’t look up; she didn’t move at all. Reaching between thorn-shrouded branches, I retrieved the crown, staring down at the heavy silver as I approached its owner.
“I do not need a companion,” she stated, cold and sharp.
I ignored her and sat upon the other end of the bench, careful not to crush her gown. “A good thing then,” I said. “For I am not interested in being one.”
At that, her blue eyes, lined in smudged kohl, swung to me.
I let her assess, remaining perfectly still while they roamed over my body. She paused on the crown in my hands and looked back at the rose in hers. “They’re all gone.”
I did not need to ask who they were. There was not a soul on this continent who needed to. “Yes,” I said, simply but not unkind. “They are.”
For long minutes, we sat in silence, the celebration of a new queen continuing on without the queen herself.
Her thumb brushed over the largest petal of the rose, and it seemed to curl in response. “If there is beauty in breaking, I’ve yet to find it,” she said, surprising me.
“I’m looking right at it,” I responded, shifting my eyes to her face.
Her red lips parted, long lashes rising as she studied me. Then she scowled. “You wish to bed me? Is that why you’re here?”
I withheld the urge to laugh. If only it were as simple as sleeping with her. “You’re too drunk, so I think I shall pass.”
Her scowl deepened, and she stood, unsteady on her feet. “I’m almost positive that has never stopped you before.”
“Then you do not know me very well, my queen.”
Her expression eased at that while she considered me, but then she swayed.
The crown looped around my wrist as I grabbed her arm, keeping her upright. “Let’s get you to bed.”
“Forever putting me to bed but never bedding me,” she grumbled but allowed me to lead her back down the path to the doors of the drawing room. Pausing, she turned back. “My wine.”
“You do not need it,” I said, turning her back to the doors. “Besides, you accidentally fed it to the grass.”
She sighed, leaning into me. “Lucky grass.”
I smiled, nodding at Ainx who had been standing in the gardens, out of sight, and headed the opposite way once we entered the hall.
We reached the bottom of the stairs when her weight became more obvious, and she stumbled.
Bending, I picked her up, and her hand, the one not holding the rose, fluttered to my cheek. “Do you miss your wife?”
I missed her, most definitely, but not in the way she probably assumed I did. Nodding, I opened one of the doors to her rooms, then kicked it closed behind me.
Setting her on her feet, I unfastened her gown and then helped her out of it. Clad only in her undergarments, she crawled onto the bed while I set her crown upon her dressing table.
“Is she the reason you won’t fuck me?” she asked, yawning.
Crossing the room, I pulled a book from her shelves and took a seat in the armchair near the fire. “No,” I said, hoping she’d leave it alone. I could feel myself growing weaker, my pants tenting. I opened the book and began to read in hopes of avoiding any more talk of sex.
“The tale of two goddesses,” I said, my brows rising. “Once upon a time, there lived two queens…”
Reciting the lie that’d been told all throughout the land was surprisingly easier when written well. By the time I’d reached the part where the two queens found themselves falling in love with mortal men, one a farmer and the other a knight in the mortal queen’s army, Audra was asleep.
I closed the book, staring at its finely crafted cover for a moment, wondering over the story; the seeds of truth planted inside a fictional tale many had fallen asleep to each night.
Gazing at Audra, something melted and froze inside my chest. She was lying on her back, the bedding pulled over her stomach, and her hands atop it, still clutching the rose.
For minutes that raced into hours, I stared, and I felt not a lick of shame for doing so.
I hadn’t known I’d been sleeping myself until my pants were tugged to my ankles, and I opened my eyes to see fissures of dawn leaking in through the windows.
Before I could ask what she thought she was doing, Audra, her beautiful hair a mess and her lips still stained crimson, had her mouth around my cock.
“If I’m to be a lonely queen,” she whispered, voice thick with sleep and need. “Then I shall need a new lover.” Her tongue licked up my shaft, and I groaned. “One who is loyal, discreet, and means what he says and does what I say.” Her head bobbed, and I fisted the armrests of the chair, my eyes squeezing closed as she drew me so far into her mouth, I hit the back of her throat.
“So, my dear lord, what say you?”
I could scarcely breathe, not only because of the magic that was her silken mouth, but because I’d been handed what I’d so desperately tried to avoid and seek.
Her.
Swallowing hard, I forced indifference, lifting a brow and tucking my arm behind my head. “And what’s in it for me?” Because there had to be something, surely. Even before her heart had been crushed, Audra did not believe in good and pure intentions.
Games and deceit were not only all she knew, but they had become a comfort.
“What is it you seek?” she asked, purring. Her hand clutched me and squeezed, forcing another groan from me. “Is the privilege of entering my body not enough for you?”
Pulling her up and over me, I gripped the back of her head, our mouths clos
e, so close I thought I might perish from anticipation. “That is but a wonderful bonus, my queen, but I should like a more…” My eyes fluttered as our lips skimmed, her breath sweet and warm. “Permanent arrangement.”
“Oh?” She exhaled.
“I am a lord, after all,” I needlessly reminded her.
Her lip curled, her eyes brighter than I’d seen in weeks, as she took my bottom lip and dragged it with her whispered words. “So you are.”
“How long must you ignore me?”
I looked up from the documents before me and sat back in the chair.
Nova, leaning against the doorframe, twisted her dress in one hand. “I don’t know how many times I can say I’m sorry.”
“There are some actions too grave for apologies.”
Her chest heaved as she expelled a loud breath and floated into the room to my desk.
With narrowed eyes, I watched as she slid some paperwork out of the way, then sat in the cleared space, her legs shifting.
I didn’t move, unsure what she was playing at. But I wouldn’t be cowed. I couldn’t run away from her at every turn.
She was right. I could only ignore her for so long.
“Then perhaps,” she murmured, her bare foot sliding up my leg, taking my pants with it, “I can make it up to you in other ways.”
“That won’t be necessary.” I tossed my quill to the desk and scratched at my cheek, wondering what the fuck I was going to do with this entire situation.
Her eyes narrowed. “You know, before I left, it wasn’t necessary then either.”
I raised my brows.
She went on. “For months after we lost the baby, I tried, and you wanted nothing to do with me.”
That wasn’t true. I’d been grieving myself, but mostly, I’d been walking on eggshells, worried that anything I did might only further worsen her own grief. Deep down, Nova knew that. “So you left.”
She bent forward, her eyes sparkling with unshed tears. “I did what I thought I had to. We’d just lost a baby, and all you wanted to do was work and pretend it never happened while I slowly lost my damn mind.”
Losing that babe had been one of the most horrific things I’d ever experienced. Watching the female I’d known for most of her life scream at the ceiling, the sun, the moon, for weeks as she grieved—indescribable.