"Come back to me," she whispered against his ear. She moved her body against his, slow and sensual, and caught her own breath as she heard him sigh. Holding in a cry of triumph, she continued, keeping her attentions languid and teasing and very deliberate, pressing her breasts against his chest, trailing her long hair over his skin and making the soft, breathy noises that she knew he loved to hear.
There was a moan, raw and low, but before she had time to congratulate herself, he snatched at her wrists, turning her in one fluid movement, slamming her hard against the mattress. He stared down at her, his gaze cool and measuring as he let her wrists go. Claudette caught her breath at the look in his eyes, fear spiking in her veins as she saw nothing of the man she knew but a creature that looked back at her as though she was a curiosity, and nothing more.
That golden gaze blazed a deep, burning amber in the dim light of the candle, like he, too, was made of flame, and it flickered within him, devouring him with heat and hunger. She stared up, lost, feeling all at once as though they were the only two souls alive in the fierce darkness that enveloped them. It billowed around them, vast and empty, promising oblivion and the horror of an endless void. Tendrils of the glowering night sky that lurked beyond the windows of their room seemed to have slunk between them, pulling them into its shadows. Terror grew as she felt how hard it wrenched at them, tearing them apart, sucking them into obscurity. It was as deep and pitiless as a fall into hell … and determined to swallow them whole.
Claudette sucked in a breath, her heart racing as she looked up into eyes that were so very familiar, and yet so terrifyingly different. His gaze rested on her with no recognition, as distant and untouchable as the gods. The eyes that looked upon her were impervious, ancient, and consumed with such vast power that she knew she was less than nothing, a grain of salt in the palm of his hand - like he was eternity and she was the blink of an eye.
The candle guttered, the shadows dancing in his eyes, highlighting the vicious madness that lay in wait for him to surrender. It flickered and died, plunging them into the eye of the storm, still and dangerously quiet.
"I'm not afraid of the dark," she whispered, though her heart hammered in her chest.
"Then you are a fool." His voice was hard and cold and unrecognisable, as though he had never known her, never loved her, and she willed herself to be calm.
"Everyone said I was a fool for loving you,” she said, remembering everything she had risked, everything she had endured just to be with him. “But I did it anyway. I always will.” Her words were defiant now as she wrapped her arms around him, pulling him close despite feeling as though she were touching a stranger. He moved suddenly, forcing her legs apart and taking her, sinking into her warmth, so hard and deep that she cried out. He grabbed hold of her arms and held her down, like he didn't want her touching him, and she gasped as his fingers wrenched at her skin, bruising her.
"Corin, please … no ... You're hurting me,” she cried as she clung to her faith in him. This was not Corin, this was what he fought, she reminded herself. Forcing her panic down, she lay quiet, though she was truly afraid now, afraid that it was too late, afraid she had made a terrible mistake, but then he stilled and his hands slowly loosened their grip, the frenzied, glittering look fading from his eyes. He blinked at her, dazed and lost as he found her staring at him, trembling beneath him.
"Ma belle?" His voice was rough, uncertain and afraid, but she felt her heart leap.
"Oui, mon loup," she sobbed as relief coursed through her. He let go of her hands and slid his arms around her, holding her so tightly that she could hardly draw breath, but she didn't care.
"I'm so sorry.” The words were full of anguish as he held her close, burying his face against her neck. “So sorry … forgive me.”
Claudette sought and found his mouth, kissing him with a smile at her lips now that she knew she had reached him. "Show me,” she whispered against his mouth. “Show me how sorry you are."
He kissed her, then, hard and desperate and needful, and she clung to him as he loved her. Claudette held onto him, clutching at his back, promising to never let him go, his anchor in a raging sea that threatened to drown them both as they chased back the darkness.
Chapter 27
Claudette sighed and turned in her sleep. Daylight was tugging at her eyelids, but the bed was warm and she felt too tired to move, too sated to even stretch out a finger. She smiled, a rather smug curve of her lips as she remembered why that was. As consciousness beckoned, despite her efforts to ignore it, she noticed the scent of roses. It was hung so heavy in the air, it was almost intoxicating, and she stirred as something soft and delicate brushed her cheek. Her eyes fluttered open, and she blinked, sleepy still as her perplexed brain tried to make sense of what she was seeing. The thick, defensive brambles that had tangled all around the room and up around the posts of the bed now seemed to be glowing in the light of the dawn that crept through the bedroom window. Blinking harder, she came fully awake with a gasp of surprise and wonder as she saw she was surrounded by white roses, fully in bloom, their decadent scent touching her senses like a caress as petals fell and settled around her, quiet as snow.
"An apology of sorts, ma belle," said a soft voice from beside the window. She looked over to see Corin standing, watching her. His arms were wrapped about himself and he looked nervous, anxiety in his eyes. "Can you forgive me?" he asked, staring at her and looking utterly miserable.
She leapt out of bed and ran to him, flinging her arms about him as she remembered how close she’d come to losing him, though to what, she still did not understand. "Don't be idiotic,” she said, kissing him and holding his face between her hands, staring into those beautiful eyes which were now so reassuringly warm and familiar. "There is nothing to forgive."
His arms went around her, holding her tight as he shook his head, his expression uncertain still. "I was so far away, Claudette. I … I could not remember myself, this place … anything. It was like being swallowed by darkness, by a monster." She looked up at him, into eyes that had frightened her so badly just hours ago, seeing that he had been just as afraid. "And then … I heard your voice."
Claudette swallowed hard. "I thought I had lost you,” she said, her voice breaking as he reached out, one large hand going to the back of her neck as he leaned down and pressed his forehead to hers.
"You very nearly did." He kissed her once, and then let her go, raking a hand through his hair and turning to look out of the window once more. "He’s within me, Claudette." He turned to her, then, holding out one hand as she moved towards him, and she took hold of it, their fingers entwining. “Do you remember, at Laen’s home, before the wedding. I told you that I was afraid of my powers, of what I could become?”
Claudette nodded, a shiver rippling down her back as his words came back to her. “You made me promise,” she said, feeling her breath come short as she realised she really had seen eyes other than his own looking back at her. “Made me promise not to let you become a monster.”
He nodded. "Do you have any idea what you risked?" he said, the words stricken as his hand tightened on hers.
Claudette took a breath, remembering what she had seen in his eyes. It had been like looking into the eyes of an angry god, and her heart skipped with terror at the memory. "Oui." She leaned into him, one hand reaching up to touch his face. "And I would do it again in a heartbeat."
He sighed and closed his eyes, and when he next looked at her, it was with such adoration that she felt her eyes fill. "What on earth can I have done to deserve you?” he demanded, pulling her into his arms. “I must have been a damned saint in a previous existence because I'm quite sure nothing in this lifetime can explain it." As she watched, a new shoot twisted off one of the dozens surrounding them, moving sinuously closer and sending out fresh, new buds that burst open as they twined over their heads. Corin reached up and broke off a rose, handing it to her. "A gift," he said, his decadent mouth curving a little as a rather wicked look
glittered in his eyes.
Claudette gave him a narrow look as she took it from him, tapping it against his chin. "You already own me, body and soul, mon loup,” she said, her tone a little tart now, though she was certain he could see the laughter in her eyes. “What else can you possibly want from me?"
He bent his head and kissed her neck, making her sigh. "I'll think of something," he said, smiling against her skin. His head came up and he grasped her chin. “Mon loup?” he repeated, smiling as she chuckled at him. He had not remarked on her endearment for him before now.
"Oui," she said, her tone firm. "My wolf, no one else's. Not anymore."
He looked over at Varg, who was stretched out in front of the fire, and gave him a sorrowful look. "Tamed, both of us," he said with a heavy sigh.
Claudette snorted and shook her head as she wrapped her arms around his neck. "Who are you trying to kid?” she muttered, not entirely sure if she was joking or not. “If you think I'm ever taking that fact for granted, you are very much mistaken. I've got my eye on you … and don't you forget it."
He raised his eyebrows at her, looking scandalised. "Well, I should think so,” he replied, apparently affronted she would do anything less. “I would not like to be taken for granted or believe that I didn't have your undivided attention, ma belle." He looked at her, eyes darkening with desire, and then glanced at the bed with such a longing expression that she laughed.
"Well, it's early yet," she said, smiling, and was disheartened to see his face fall as he shook his head.
"No, ma belle, it is not early,” he replied, his earlier good humour vanished all at once. “It is very, very late, and they will come for me soon."
Fear rippled under her skin, gusting through her heart like a cold north wind as the significance of the day made itself felt. She had been so happy to see him awake, in control of himself and in good humour after the terror of last night, that she had pushed reality from her mind, but it was inescapable.
“What do you mean?” she asked, knowing in theory what he faced today, but not understanding how it would happen. “Who will come? What for?”
Corin sat on the edge of the bed, pulling her down onto his lap; he shrugged at her question, fatigue in the gesture. She understood that he’d been trying hard to be upbeat, to put her mind at rest, but she knew him too well now. "There are formalities to such events, ceremony and procedure. We have to observe tradition." He sounded disgusted by the whole idea as a flurry of rose petals fell over them. A thought came to her at that moment that made her blood run cold. She clutched at his arm, gesturing at the roses.
"Corin, you aren't allowed to use your connection to Solastire until the contest, is that right?" He nodded and frowned at her anxious expression. "But the roses ..." she whispered, hardly daring to breathe.
He took her hand, laying it on the wooden bed post beside her and she realised then that this was the source of the roses. "Made in Alfheim," he said with a smile. "I think from my own estate,” he added, smoothing his own hand over the wood.
"You can tell?" she asked, wondering if this man would continue to surprise her in such ways for the rest of her life.
He nodded, his face grave now. "I can only thank providence that someone in my land had the forethought to make something quite so hideous,” he said, perfectly serious. “Only Auberren could have chosen an object in quite such bad taste. Damn thing helped save my life."
Despite the stress and terror of the past hours and everything still to come, or perhaps because of it, Claudette giggled and put a hand over her mouth.
"What?" he asked, raising his eyebrows in surprise.
She shook her head, because really, it was silly, but she still couldn't stop laughing.
He gave her a reproachful look. "Ma belle, are you making fun of me?" he demanded.
She snorted and collapsed on the bed, shaking with laughter. "Oh Corin, it's just so you."
"Whatever do you mean?" he asked, his indignation only making her laugh harder.
"Well," she said, trying to keep a straight face and instead give him a seductive look from under her eyelashes. "You remember, I think, how I got your attention last night."
He smirked. "Hardly something I'd forget,” he replied, his tone dry.
"So..." She bit her lip making an effort to keep a straight face. "You were saved with sex, and a bed." She stared at him, her shoulders shaking with silent laughter as he shrugged.
"Works for me,” he replied, deadpan.
Letting out a breath, Claudette noticed with a shiver of foreboding how much lighter the skies had grown. Morning was upon them. She sat up again and leaned her head on his shoulder, and they sat together, quiet now as she tangled her fingers in his hair.
"I know you can do it, Corin,” she said, feeling the truth of her words as she gave them to him. “I’m not of this land, and I don’t understand it all, not yet, but I know that you are the true king. This has all happened for a reason, it has to have. I'm nervous, afraid for what you must go through, but I'm not afraid for you. Does that make sense?" she asked as she looked down at that impossibly handsome face, smoothing the thick dark hair from his forehead. "I believe in you."
“Thank you,” he said, pleasure in his eyes at her words.
She kissed him and he smiled, laying his head against her chest, and they waited until a knock came at the door.
Claudette reached for her dressing gown and went to the door to find Alsten waiting for them. Corin smiled at the old man, his expression warm as he held out his hands to him. "Alsten,” he exclaimed, as surprised as Claudette to see that the old man had braved the journey from Alfheim. “How good of you to come all this way for me."
Claudette watched as the man who had been Corin’s valet since he was a small boy stood before him, pride fierce in his eyes. "If you will forgive the expression, Your Highness, wild horses could not have kept me away. It has been an honour to serve you as prince and ... well, if you still have need of me, it will be the greatest honour to serve you as king."
"Of course,” Corin replied, and Claudette could hardly wonder why all of his staff were so passionately loyal. Who on earth could resist the warmth in those golden eyes? “What on earth would I do without you?" he added, as the old man flushed with pleasure before returning to the business of the day.
"Everything is ready for you,” Alsten said, growing serious now. “If you would follow me, please?"
Corin nodded as he pulled on a heavy silk robe. "Lead on."
Claudette hesitated, anxious all at once that this would be the last time she saw him before … before she didn’t really know what. "Can I come?" she blurted out, seeing his look of surprise at her obvious anxiety.
"Ma belle,” he said, amusement in his eyes now. “If you think I am going to endure all the primping and preening without you, you are very much mistaken." He held out his hand to her and they followed Alsten a little way down the hallway and into a large room.
It was almost empty, the windows covered with heavy, blood-red curtains that blocked any trace of the morning. Instead, it was lit with hundreds of candles that threw eerie shadows about the room. The atmosphere here was taut and intense, and Claudette blanched as she looked around and took a guess at what was about to happen.
The room was lined with men and women, each of them bearing a golden bowl, which, from their scent, appeared to be filled with herbs or spices of various descriptions. The scent added to the strange atmosphere, making Claudette’s skin tighten with apprehension. As Corin entered, they all bowed low, and Claudette’s eyes widened as her suspicions were confirmed and she looked upon a large, sunken bath. She looked back at Corin. "You're kidding?"
Corin shrugged, looking unperturbed by the idea of bathing in front of a room full of strangers. "Kings don't always have a lot of privacy." Claudette stared back at him, open-mouthed, and he smiled at her, giving her fingers a brief squeeze. "Don't fret, ma belle, it is not an everyday occurrence."
"You're
damn straight," she snapped, looking at the beautiful women lining the room as jealousy blazed to life. Despite herself, she could not help but wonder how many of them had already seen the show. From a few of the barely hidden smirks and the knowing looks some of them were giving him, she felt she could take a pretty good guess.
Swallowing down her fury, she decided to tackle the matter head on. She was damned if she was going to give herself another thing to stress over, today of all days. Stalking closer, she glared at each woman in turn, giving them her coldest look, the one that Queen Audrianne had taught her that every ruler should have in their repertoire. "Eyes to the wall,” she snapped. The girls returned equally furious expressions, and then a slender, haughty-looking man, who appeared to be some kind of priest, walked towards her.
"My lady,” he began, his voice dripping contempt. “It is tradition that the ceremony ..."
She turned on him, not knowing what he saw in her eyes but satisfied when he took a hasty step back. "Je m'en fou!" she said, the words hard and defiant as she raised a finger in warning, pointing it at him. "They turn around or they leave. Your choice."
Claudette heard a choking sound from behind her and turned to see Corin trying to cover his laughter by pretending to cough, and failing. She narrowed her eyes at him and he stopped, returning her an innocent expression before he turned his attention to the priest.
"I think it had better be as the lady desires,” he said. The priest sniffed and gave Claudette a disgusted look before making a turning motion to the girls. Many more disgusted looks followed on in swift succession as the girls were forced to turn their backs. Claudette shrugged and returned a serene, regal smile, nodding her satisfaction to the priest.
"May we proceed now?" he demanded of Claudette with the air of someone much put-upon.
The Darkest Night Page 32