by Ella Fields
“You are a fool,” I whispered heatedly, “or else you’d have known my destiny has always been and will always be tied to you.”
He cursed, hand delving into my hair as his mouth dove over mine, our lips fusing and parting with a ferocity that burned and renewed and would never be enough.
Zad pulled away, and I reached for him, needing more, but he wouldn’t be coaxed. “And I...” He swallowed thickly. “I was rough with you”—he groaned when my tongue licked my teeth—“in your rooms. I was too rough. My words worse than poison. I’m sorry, so fucking sorry.”
I nodded, holding his face to mine. “Don’t be too sorry for that first part.”
His eyes narrowed.
I grinned. “In fact, I think I might anger you some more just to bring that side of you out to play.”
He raised a brow. “It has become quite clear that you enjoy sparring with me.”
“More than I should.” He smiled, but it waned, so I admitted, “but I like you like this more, and I need you, this you, so much more.”
His lips parted, breath sailing out. “I do believe you might indeed love me after all.”
“Until my dying breath and whatever comes after.” My hold tightened, my lips grazing his. “You... you balance the scales. You make me better without robbing me of who I really am. And that is why my soul chose yours. That is why I let my heart do the same.”
“Audra,” he began, voice roughening when I reached between us to untuck his shirt. He cleared his throat, hands sliding up, fingers tight in my hair. “I don’t deserve to, not yet—”
“You do. I liked it. I goaded you, and I should’ve said all this sooner, but even though you’re the safest place I’ve found, the only place I want to be, you still terrify me.”
He blinked. “I scare you?” I nodded, my lip taken by my teeth. He plucked it free with his thumb, a roguish grin setting fire to his eyes. “And what do you do when you’re scared, my queen?”
I grinned in kind, then bit his thumb. “I fight.”
He stared, then leaned forward to kiss me. “I’d ask you to stop, but I fear even if you did, it would never cease. This nagging need to make sure you’re mine.” A fluttering sigh fled me, and with his lips against mine, he purred, “You’re the only place I want to be, too. No more visitors.”
“Never,” I promised, and our mouths joined in earnest, our hands tugging clothing out of the way so that our bodies could, too.
He swallowed every delighted breath, fingers sliding up my thighs to find me ready and desperate for him, and our tongues clashed with his throaty groan. “Starving, aren’t you?”
“I’m about to fucking perish.” I bit his lip and brought his hips forward with my legs. “Please.”
That glint in his eyes and the matching smile almost had me combusting before his length found me. I watched his gaze darken with a hunger so base, so wicked that his every feature slackened and remolded into sharp determination as he slowly entered my body.
His nostrils flared. My head fell back. He caught it before it hit the wall, leaning forward to sink his teeth into my neck. I moaned.
He didn’t suck but gently pierced the skin, his tongue lovingly lapping at the small punctures as he sank all the way inside me and cursed. “Never again,” he insisted, rough against my skin, his grip cementing his vow. “Fight me, loathe me, curse my very existence, but never again will we go this long without each other.”
“Never,” I agreed when his head lifted, and his mouth found mine.
The slight tang of blood hit my tongue, and when I moaned once more, he snapped. His hips reared back before jutting forward with enough force to send the desk into the wall behind us, over and over.
I barely heard it, barely noticed anything outside of the firm hand in my hair, the other crushing the petals of my gown as he gripped my breast. I was shattering within what felt like a handful of erratic heartbeats. My thighs and body squeezed him as if I could wring out and absorb everything he made me feel to capture this burning euphoria forevermore.
“That’s it,” he urged, the rumble scraping down my throat with his husky laugh. “Show me just how much you’ve missed me.”
My eyelids drooped, a sharp cry escaping. He clasped the back of my head, those feverish eyes never leaving mine as he continued to burn my body from the inside out.
Only when our lips met, shivers shaking my every limb, did he let go with a roar, his body stilling and jerking as his head tilted back to the root-strewn ceiling.
Still trembling, my fingers climbed to his throat, tracing each ridge, the light mist of sweat, the exposed Adam’s apple, then rose to his lips when his head dropped. Melting eyes drank me in as even softer lips pressed against my fingers. “Mouth,” he said, hoarse.
“So lazy,” I teased, my chest still rising and falling in harsh bursts. “Come and get it.”
Smirking like the predator he was, always had been, my stomach jumped as he leaned down and grasped my chin. With a gentleness that threatened to break me anew, he kissed me—long, caressing presses—and murmured, “My perfect storm.”
Far sooner than I’d have liked, we left the room, and I asked, “What are you doing? Many more surfaces and beds await us.”
“And I’d much rather find myself inside you on all of them.” His hand tensed around mine, but he didn’t slow his pace. “But we cannot ignore duty, the evening will soon be over, and we also cannot ignore the fact that you no longer wish to enjoy one of the finest gifts given to our kind.”
“Meaning?” I said, though I already knew.
I just wanted him to hurry up and do what he did next as he swung me into the ballroom, then tugged me back into his chest in a flash, his smile crooked. “Music.”
Breathless with joy, with everything that he was, I could only stare with my chest swelling to the point of pain.
The mischief left his eyes, his features softening as he murmured, “May I have this dance?”
In answer, I splayed my hands over his chest, and slowly, they crawled over his shoulders. His eyes shuttered as they brushed feathers and met behind his neck.
If there were eyes upon us, I didn’t notice, unwilling to remove my own, my every sense, from the male holding me impossibly close to him. So close, I could see nothing but the tiny hairs drifting from his cheek to his throat, and when I turned my head, glossy black wings.
Carefully, I shifted to touch them, felt Zad flinch then shiver in response, and paused.
“Go ahead,” he whispered, the delicious warmth of his lips and breath floating upon the side of my forehead.
Emboldened by the throaty purr vibrating inside his throat, I stroked the dense light-absorbing feathers and found them softer than I ever could’ve dreamed. “They’re beautiful.”
He hummed, arms squeezing me to him. “Not as beautiful as you.”
I ignored the temptation to roll my eyes, smiling as feathers rustled, jolting when I reached lower and felt their stems. “You’re welcome.”
He huffed with silent laughter, then groaned. “Fine. Thank you.”
“That wasn’t so hard, was it?” I taunted, retracting my fingers and moving my head back to gaze up at him.
A raised brow greeted me, and then everything turned to shadows and muted sound and light as those giant wings unfolded and rose. They wrapped around me, cocooning us and drenching me in that intoxicating scent of his. “I’d forgotten how useful they can be,” he murmured, leaning down when I leaned up for our lips to join.
Smiling against his mouth, I said, “I’m sure.”
As he grinned, his eyes flashed. Teeth snapped at my bottom lip, stealing it before his tongue sought entry, and we held one another with such force that I barely felt my feet moving around the room.
Pulling away, Zad sighed. “Never, not once, did I think I’d return here.”
“Would you prefer Rosinthe?”
He gave me a bland look. “Not unless it contains you.”
I hummed
. “At times, it will.” My teeth sank into my lip when he nodded and smoothed his hand up my back, those impossibly soft feathers ghosting over my arms. With my heart thudding so hard that Zad studied me with narrowing eyes, I blurted before I lost the courage, “So you will marry me. For shadows cannot exist without the sun.”
“Audra.” He stilled, breath rushing from him, and we stopped moving. “You do not need—”
“I know. I want to. I want to be bound to you in every way possible.” His eyes glistened, his wings drooping a little as my eyes did the same. “You are not my lord or my prince, but my king, always, and so I must make a husband out of you.” My heart quivered but didn’t beat as I failed to breathe, and whispered, “Please, do me the honor of making it official.”
With a stillness that blistered, he searched my eyes as if trying to determine whether I was being sincere—that I truly wanted this.
Leaning into him, I held his gaze, hoping he could see and feel that I’d never wanted anything more.
“Okay,” he finally rasped with a shaken smile, and I felt his happiness wash over me, over all of us, as butterflies sailed in through every window of the room, and clapping ensued. Stunned, I watched them fly above our heads in every color, dipping and swaying and leaving trails of glimmering dust in their wake.
Then my chin was tilted back down, and Zad’s head lowered until his nose skimmed mine. His voice firmed, his wings dropped, exposing us for all to see. “Okay, my queen.” Our lips sealed with our accepted fates, and as we clung to one another and the ballroom exploded with applause and merriment, they didn’t dare part.
I was ready to ensure they never would again.
Though many things had changed for Raiden, Zadicus, myself, and many others, tradition would not.
Back in Rosinthe, Inkerbine, the annual celebration of peace and love, had arrived once more.
Gold and Silver ribbons fluttered from maypoles, the two villages either side of the large clearing empty, for most everyone in the land was in attendance. The light afternoon rain had covered the vendor carts, gowns and hair of every shade, and the darkening horizon in a glittering sheen.
Zadicus’s wings shifted as we approached the back of the podium, nearing Raiden and his advisor, Patts.
As the High Queen of Beldine, Raiden could do nothing but be glad for a continued peace among us and both continents. Besides, with Eline and his babe at his side, it would appear any lingering resentment he’d felt from Ryle’s deception and our annulment had faded.
Last Inkerbine, we announced a united continent. This Inkerbine, we were to stress that it would remain so, but no longer under the contract of marriage.
One meeting was mercifully all it’d taken, and it was my guess that with Eline being close to giving birth, Raiden had made it in haste—amenable while still remaining stubborn, but impatient to get the paperwork underway and return home.
“Tell me,” Raiden drawled now, fire dancing in his palm as he lit a torch by his advisor that someone had missed. It vanished when his hand closed, and he swung a baneful smile at Zad. “How does one even fuck with those giant things upon their back?”
“In the air,” I said coolly and tucked my arm within Zad’s, “and at great... length.”
The Sun Kingdom’s king tightened his jaw as Zadicus brimmed with tension beside me.
I should’ve known he wouldn’t be able to resist, and I bit my lips when he snarled, “How does one fuck with a face like that?”
“Ask your wife,” Raiden said, his mouth loosening into a megawatt grin. “She knows exactly—”
Eline trudged over and smacked him in the arm. “Must you? You rotten pig.”
Raiden cursed, turning to whisper sickening words into her ear before taking Rosemary, their babe, from her.
Zad was still trying and failing to hold back his laughter when Eline surprised us both and drew me into her arms.
It took a moment for me to hug her back, but I did. “She’s beautiful.”
“She gave me a glimpse of death and several stitches,” Eline returned, standing back and grasping my arms. That feline smile of hers slipped into something warm and genuine. “Thank you.”
I blinked, and Zad chuckled, pulling me close. “She means to say you’re welcome, but her tongue is probably frozen to the roof of her mouth.”
I made to shove him, but he predicted it and smacked a kiss atop my forehead as Eline adjusted her red gown and then stole her fussing daughter from Raiden.
We waited while Eline and Raiden moved beyond us into one of the tents to feed Rosemary, Patts muttering with Mintale about the squabbling farmers along the border who were up in arms about the new roads there being used for trade.
“In the air?” Zad murmured, Landen giving him a short nod as he rounded the trees. “You really thought he deserved to know that?”
He and Dace had checked the podium as well as the crowds for any unusual scents or creatures. One of the many things my time in Beldine had taught me was that nothing was ever as it seemed, and it paid to keep all senses open and accessible, especially while in a position of power.
Many had likely heard of my new title in a land across the Whispering Sea, and many were probably not pleased about it—to say the least.
They could feel and think whatever they desired. As long as I had what I wanted, everything I needed, I would endure whatever else came my way and give it no room to cause misery.
“He could very well guess at it, anyway. It was that or let him goad you into another annoying battle of snide and grunting remarks.” Rechecking my near black gown with its daring, twisting corset of thorns, I said, “No, thank you.”
“He’s annoying,” Zad said, stiffening as the king and his consort, Eline, left the tent and waded back over. “Like an insect that cannot be squashed.”
“Oh, stop it.” Wrapping my hand around his, we headed for the stairs and up onto the podium.
A round of applause greeted us, faces and colors and scents blurring into one another from the tips of our noses to the trees on either side of us, and all the way into the slow-rolling valley.
“Welcome to Inkerbine,” I greeted before Raiden could beat me to it. Waiting for the crowds to settle somewhat, I hovered over the megaphone before continuing, “Though a lot has changed since we last gathered here, some things have not.” Zad’s hand was a steady weight at the small of my back. “Inkerbine has been and always will be a celebration of peace, love, and unity, and together, King Raiden and myself will ensure that as a whole, this continent will adhere to those principles and more all year round.”
More applause sounded as I took a step back and into Zad’s side, allowing Raiden to move forward to the megaphone. He plucked at his cloak, waiting, then said in a playful tone, “You might have heard we have a faerie queen in our midst.”
Save for some shifting, absolute silence rippled at that, and Raiden chuckled. “Fear not, for she has surely saved every single one of your souls from more bloodshed and inconceivable loss by ridding our neighboring continent of their corrupt ruler.” He cleared his throat, and Eline’s lips pulled into a small smile when Raiden gestured for me to join them. “Come forward, Audra.”
Reluctantly, Zad’s hand slowly released me, but I grabbed it and brought him toward the megaphone with me.
Raiden grinned. “Seeing as she failed to properly introduce herself, it is my great honor to present to you your queen of the Moon Kingdom and the new High Queen of Beldine.” Belatedly, he tacked on with much less zeal and volume, “And her husband, the Moon Kingdom’s new king and the High King of Beldine, Zadicus.”
I could’ve both killed and hugged him.
“Power,” Raiden mused, almost as if to himself. The audience grew quiet at that word, crickets and the sizzling of meat upon vendor carts the only sounds. “For so many years, we’ve grown to fear, admire, respect, loathe, or covet it. I was one who coveted it, and I must admit, a part of me still longs for it even though I was born w
ith more than anyone would need.”
Zad’s form turned rock solid against me, his hand banding tight at my hip.
“I know,” Raiden said, that mischievous lilt to his words. “Greed is a battle so many of us have fought. Some have lost themselves to it, and I’m relieved to say that although I was almost one of them, I indeed found a way to win against it. How?” He hummed in mock thought, then stated with a severity that shocked even me, “Well, I’ve learned there are some things power and greed cannot grant us, for the most precious jewels are often found in the aftermath of unnecessary bloodshed and in necessary change. In times of peace and heightened love.”
Our audience, our people, roared with approval.
Raiden waited for the clapping to die down before looking at his wife. Eline moved closer to take his hand, Rosemary letting out a shriek of irritation.
Taking the babe from her arms, I tucked her close as her chubby hands reached for my hair and tugged. “I think you’re right, king.” I smiled at the babe, her huge green eyes, and whispered, “Perhaps your father isn’t always stupid, is he?”
Eline coughed to hide a laugh as Raiden swung his narrowed gaze our way, his lips pinched.
“What?” I laughed too as Rosemary blew spit bubbles and grabbed at my lips.
Looking from her to me, Raiden shook his head. “Nothing.”
And there we stood—former enemies, lovers, heartbreakers—to face the occupants of this realm and portray a unified front. One that, even if not the norm, felt right and so much more genuine this time.
A true merging.
“And, of course, I saved the best for last.” Raiden returned to the megaphone and lifted Eline’s hand into the air. “Allow me to introduce my oldest and greatest love, my new wife, the Sun Kingdom’s new queen, Eline.”