by Linda Kage
“I’m getting there, Captain Impatient,” Melaina snapped. “I was just about to say Corandra finally discovered the truth and stopped him.”
I sighed gratefully, only to scowl. I’d heard that name quite a lot today. “Her again, huh?”
“Of course. Now, usually, Corandra was all about free will and letting everyone live their own life as they wished, whether she agreed with their decisions or not. But her son really needed to be stopped.”
“Yeah,” I muttered acerbically. “About three children too late.”
Melaina fluttered out a hand. “Whatever. In any case, she helped Billa break the spells cast on her by Holden, to which her great-granddaughter immediately used her freedom to slay Holden in his sleep.”
“Thank God.”
“She renamed herself Billa Purge and took her three sons—Ian, Iago, and Icarus—up north to live in what is now the Gill Caves in Lowden.”
“So that’s why I found so many Purges in the family line,” I realized with clarity. They’d been Purges for over two hundred years until Orick Graykey had changed the house name back to Graykey. Until this moment, I’d always thought he’d just changed it to Graykey, hoping to escape the Purge name. But it had been Graykey before, and he’d merely returned it to the original.
Interesting.
“Anyway, running and changing their name obviously didn’t help them escape the effects of the curse,” Melaina went on. “They still managed to have three children each, named accordingly, and two are typically doomed to die so that only the strongest child takes on their powers and prevails. And that, my clueless High Clifter, is how Lowden became ground zero for all the Graykey reapings.”
“Damn,” I murmured. “So whatever happened to Locasta?”
“She was quite distraught when Holden perished.”
“Wow.” I shook my head in dry disbelief. But seriously, that Locasta woman was definitely a piece of work. And she sure had picked a winner to become obsessed with, too.
“She wailed to the world that Holden had been her one true love, and she couldn’t go on without him. So Corandra came up with her own curse. To discover if there was any truth to such a claim, she put a mark on Locasta’s temple to reveal whether he was honestly her true love or not. She instructed Locasta to kiss Holden’s fresh corpse. If she was truly his soulmate, she’d be able to bring him back to life. Except she wasn’t able to, and she had to live the rest of her days knowing Holden had never craved her the way she’d craved him.”
“Wait, wait, wait.” I waved my hands. “Back up a minute. Are you saying Corandra Graykey created the first love mark? This mark right here?” I tapped the tattoo on my own temple. “But that’s impossible. I heard the first love mark was given to Elaina, the first Queen of High Cliff.”
“Locasta’s mark was Corandra’s prototype. But yes, for some reason she also gifted Elaina L’Amante with the same mark later on when Elaina became the queen. And from there, Elaina proclaimed a law that all her subjects should get the same mark.”
I frowned, not sure if I could believe this particular story.
Or any of them really.
Nicolette had come across a woman named Mydera only a few moon cycles ago, who’d told her the legend about how Queen Elaina had been the first person to receive the love mark. It didn’t completely jive with Melaina’s story now. Except I hadn’t told Melaina which house Elaina had come from either—yet she already knew—so maybe her version was more accurate. But the mage Mydera had also claimed to be a descendant of the first person to apply the love mark, which would mean she’d have to be a descendant of Corandra Graykey.
She’d have to be a Graykey herself.
“Son of a bitch,” I murmured, wiping at my face. This was all getting too complicated for me. And I wasn’t sure how it had anything to do with what was happening now. Or even if it did have anything to do with finding lost amulets.
Probably not.
I shook my head and dropped my hands. “This Corandra Graykey sounds like quite the altruistic heroine in every story you tell,” I said, wondering what truly lay behind all her kinder deeds.
“That’s probably because all the stories I’ve told you originated from her journal,” Melaina answered before glancing at my book I’d set on the ground between us. “And she probably wrote them on scrolls like all Outer Realms writings are meant to be written on.”
Ignoring her bashing of my beloved book, I shook my head. “She wrote a journal? Well, where is that? Maybe it says something in it about how to break the curse.”
Then Quilla wouldn’t have to leave at all, and she could stay here in the Outer Realms with me.
Melaina laughed. “Oh, darling. That was hundreds of years ago. Her journal’s long gone by now. Or maybe she still has it with her. Who knows.”
“Hmm.” Well, that was a depressing dead end.
“The only thing that matters now is escaping this godforsaken world. Isn’t that right, Quilla dear?”
Quilla?
She was back?
I whirled around to find her approaching through the trees from the direction of the stream. I’d been so involved in her aunt’s story that I hadn’t even noticed the tingling in my mark, telling me she was coming nearer again.
The cauldron she’d stalked off with was full of water now, but her hair was wet and pulled back, as well, whereas it’s been flowing down free around her shoulders when she’d left.
“You bathed,” I realized dumbly. “In the stream.”
The setting sun glinted a golden shimmer off her light hair, and damp spots on the tunic she wore told me she’d put her clothes back on before fully drying. I couldn't help but notice she wasn’t wearing a corset or even a chemise underneath, either.
Which made me think about all the naked flesh hiding under only one layer of clothing.
And suddenly, I was remembering how she’d looked yesterday, bathing and coming out of the water like the goddess of the brook.
Or an empress.
Yes. The empress of the brook.
My body instantly grew tense as I forgot all about whatever it was I’d been discussing with her aunt. I could only think about one thing.
As my cock hardened in my trousers, I surged to my feet. “You know. A dip in the stream sounds lovely right about now. I think I’ll do the same.”
And I hurried past her, shuddering when her sweet scent wafted out and grabbed me by the balls.
Damn, she smelled good.
Let’s hope the water was ice-cold.
Chapter 18
Quilla
I glared at the horizon, gauging the time. The sun had long since dipped behind the skyline and even the pretty colors that followed were beginning to fade. Soon, all daylight would be gone. And Indigo hadn’t returned from the spring yet, where he’d claimed he was going to bathe.
Except baths did not last this long.
I spun toward Melaina. “What exactly did you tell him about the Graykey curse while I was gone?” I knew I shouldn’t have left those two alone together. She’s probably scared him off for good.
My aunt fished a carrot from her steaming bowl of stew and blew on the spoon before answering—because, yes, he’d even been gone long enough for me to cook supper.
“I told him everything, sweets.”
Oh, great. It was definite, then; he was never coming back. He’d heard about my genes full of crazy and decided to get out while the getting was good. We wouldn’t be hearing from that High Clifter again.
Unless it was to return with an army full of his friends to extinguish us.
“Well, he’s taking an awfully long time bathing, don’t you think?” I muttered to combat my panic over the fact that I might not see him again.
Melaina smirked and waited until her mouth was no longer full of stew before she patted her lips with a napkin and chuckled. “After watching the way he looked at you before booking it out of here, I’m not at all surprised he’s been gone so long.�
�
I sat up in alarm. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
How had he looked at me? With horror? Revulsion? Loathing? He was mated to a product of monstrous people. How else would he have looked at me?
“With stark, raving lust, my dear,” Melaina finally answered. “He wanted to fuck you. Badly. Why, from the way he tore out of here, he probably didn’t even wait until he got to the stream before he started masturbating.” Finding a chunk of potato in her soup, she brightened and chased it around with her spoon, intent to catch it. “He’ll probably jack off a few times at least before returning,” she told me before plunking the spud into her mouth.
I frowned at her conclusion, thinking that couldn’t be true, even as a small vain place in me warmed around the idea that I could maybe, possibly arouse him to such a degree. In a perfect world where I could gain a mate who loved me and lived happily ever after with me, that would be nice.
But that was fantasy. And this was reality. He couldn’t desire me like that. It just wasn’t possible.
“Or he ran off to find friends so he could return and slaughter both of us,” I countered.
Melaina laughed. “You really believe that?” she asked. “After the impassioned speech he gave you not even two hours ago about how he’d never leave you and you were his future, no matter what?”
“He only said that malarkey to gainsay whatever I was saying,” I muttered, not sure if I believed my own words. “He likes to disagree with me, if you hadn’t noticed. The man will spout any lie to make himself look right.”
Melaina shrugged. “Well, I disagree. He seems like the pathetically honest type to me.”
I threw up my hands in disgust. “You are the most wishy-washy woman I’ve ever met, I swear. One second, you’re all fired up and ready to kill him; and the next, you can’t seem to praise him enough. Will you just make up your damn mind already? Is he a saint or a devil?”
Lifting her chin arrogantly, Melaina squared her shoulders. “He waffles. And I can change my mind if I like.”
“Every three seconds?” I asked dryly.
She shrugged. “If it suits me.”
I rolled my eyes.
“And would you look at that?” She motioned with her spoon, pointing past me. “Here comes your true love now. Guess he didn’t run off, after all. Happy now?”
I whirled around, gasping slightly when I saw a dark form approaching through the trees. At first, it was hard to tell if it was actually Indigo or not, but then he stepped from the shadows and his distinct silhouette took shape along with the familiar way he walked.
A sudden and crisp rush of relief flooded my veins. He hadn’t left me. Thank God.
No, wait. That wasn’t what I meant. I just—
I only meant I was relieved he hadn’t run. It would’ve been annoying to have to chase him down before he’d alerted anyone to our whereabouts. We really would’ve had to kill him then. And I’d prefer to leave the Outer Realms without any blood on my hands. I didn’t want to succumb to the Graykey stereotype that we were just a brood of murderers.
But Indigo must’ve caught on to the sensation of relief rushing from me, because he paused, glancing up curiously. I hoped he didn’t rightly—er, wrongly—assume I’d been worried about him because I cared, or anything. Since I definitely didn’t care. Not at all. Not even about how incredibly attractive he was.
Water dripped off clumps of wet hair spiking from his head, and his clothes held damp spots that stuck to his torso, revealing cut muscles I’d never seen on him before. Dear God, but who knew his tunic had been hiding such nicely defined shoulders and biceps.
Clearing my throat, I sat up a little straighter and reenacted one of Melaina’s superior poses before saying, “So, you really did bathe after all?”
“Yeah.” He let out a refreshed sigh as he approached the fire, pausing before it to hold up his bound hands and warm his palms. “The spring water felt good, too. Almost couldn’t drag myself out again.”
Brow knitting as I focused on his cuffs, I shook my head, suddenly wondering—
“How the hell did you bathe with shackles on?”
His grin turned wicked. “I’ll gladly tell you. All you have to do is—”
“Never mind.” I slapped my empty stew bowl down on the log next to me and surged to my feet, glaring at him. “I don’t care.”
“Yes, you do,” he taunted to my back as I turned away and got to work, setting up my bedroll. “Just come here and I’ll whisper the secret in your ear.”
“How about you whisper it in my ear,” Melaina offered, curling her finger in an inviting gesture.
Indigo sent her a frown. “That’s a hard pass, thanks.”
Her leer fell. “What? Why?”
“You’ve drawn blood on my throat twice now. I’m not going anywhere near you.”
“Pfft.” She pushed to her feet to gather my empty bowl. As she took both hers and mine to the cleaning bucket to wash them, she added, “You’re not still put out about that, are you, darling? That’s all in the past now.”
“It was yesterday and this morning,” he reminded her dryly. “And besides…” He glanced my way. “Quilla doesn’t like it when you flirt with me.”
Spinning around with my bedding half prepared, I glared openly, ready to strangle the jerk for making such a crazy, slanderous claim. “The fuck if I care!”
“You do.” He smirked. “The moment she made her offer, your emotions raged out with fury. You did not like her making a move on your man.”
“As if,” I cried. “You are not my—”
“Yes, I am,” he murmured, leaving the fire to retrieve his own bedroll. Strolling my way, he added, “Whether you like it or not, I’m yours. Always and forever.”
I would have set him straight right there, but I got a little distracted by the way he kept approaching with his things, so I ended up demanding, “What do you think you’re doing with that? Don’t come near me with your bedding.”
“But I have to,” he said simply. “Because I’m sleeping here.” And he dropped his bedroll onto the ground just a foot from mine with a jarring thud that made me jump.
Grinding my teeth, I seethed. “No, you are not.”
“Yeah.” He sent me a wink. “I am.”
I pointed to the other side of the camp. Where he belonged. “If you don’t move your shit back over there right now—”
“You’ll what?” he countered with too much cheer. “Cut me? You’ve already threatened that. Never carried through. So I’m calling bullshit.”
He bent and began to set up his bedding.
I folded my arms over my chest and tapped my toe. I’d somehow lost my intimidating presence. And he was right, I wasn’t going to physically harm him. Though the idea was tempting.
So tempting.
What was worse, I couldn’t be the one to move my things. That would only show retreat and cowardice. He had to be the one to go.
Except I didn’t know how to convince him to do that.
Indigo finished his preparations and stood again, dusting his hands off on his hips as he loomed way too close for my comfort. He smelled like clean man, warm musk, and lickable—
Jesus, it just wasn’t right that he had to stand so close.
“What’re you so scared of?” he asked in a calm, curious voice that held no hint of any condescending banter that might piss me off. “You know I won’t hurt you. And I remember the rule. No touching, so—”
“The rule was for you to sleep on the other side of the—”
“I feel your anxiety, okay,” he broke in softly, his gaze drilling into mine. “And I get that this is uncomfortable for you. But I promise I won’t bother you. Not in that way.” He waved his manacled hands in a circle, motioning toward my lap area. “I can read your signs. You’re not ready for all that yet. So you’re safe. Hell, you’ll be safer with me here than on the other side of the camp.”
A droplet of disappointment pouted inside me over h
is claim that he wouldn’t make any advances. I kind of liked his wicked advances. Even though I knew I shouldn’t, and thus I was therefore obligated to shut them down flat. Because he could never know I secretly craved them.
To his face, though, I lifted my eyebrows and kept my arms crossed. “If you’re not lying about leaving me alone, then why does it matter where you sleep?”
The devil grinned his stupid sexy grin. “Because I like lying beside you. And my mark lets me sleep better the closer you are. I just want a good night’s rest. That’s all.”
Okay, that melted a bit of my resistance. But come on…
My mere presence soothed him?
Who could stand firm against shit like that?
Me. That’s who, I told myself. I was better than this. I could resist his cocky, yet adorable grin, his sparkling eyes with the long lashes still damp from his bath, where he’d probably stroked himself while thinking of me. Maybe he’d even groaned my name while bringing himself to orgasm.
He released a sudden breath and shook his head as if trying to clear it while he took a step back.
I flushed, hoping he hadn’t felt that surge of excess heat that had just ricocheted through me. Except I knew he had.
Damn.
“And just think,” he added, recovering immediately to flash me a smile. “It would be torture for me to remain close enough to you that I could reach out and touch you but not actually be allowed to touch you. And you like it when I’m miserable, right?”
Well…
When he put it that way, the idea of torturing him did sound appealing.
I frowned. “Just don’t talk to me.”
He grinned. Way too triumphantly. And the twinkle in his eyes told me he’d be talking to me a lot.
Fuck. What had I just done?
Plopping down on his bedroll, he lay back, crossed his legs at the ankles, and then interwove his fingers together before placing his bound hands behind his head and sighing blissfully up at the sky. “Damn, it is such a nice night, isn’t it? Ideal temperature, just the slightest hint of a breeze to keep the air from being stale, and laced with the hint of pine. Did you see that sunset, too? Fucking beautiful.”