by Ana Calin
“I’m afraid those orders didn’t reach me, Milord,” she replies, turning her back to Cerys and bowing to me, making a point. “Besides, I only wanted to offer you a special evening, help you relax. I figured, after everything you’ve been through, you could use that.”
“If anyone is to offer my husband relaxation, that is me.”
Zestari spins around and pushes out her chin at Cerys. A dark red flush appears on her cheeks, and anger comes off of her in waves.
“I understand why you feel confused, Queen Cerys,” she says, forcing herself to sound civil. “You weren’t in the Throne Hall earlier, when these things were discussed. But the courts demanded that the King divorce you.”
“He can’t divorce his bonded mate.” The way she says that makes me think she already knows.
“But you’ve betrayed him. And not only him, us too. The people you owed your loyalty to.”
“Even if that were possible,” Cerys presses on in a way that’s completely new, and so delightful that I enjoy looking at it. Here she is, my woman, my Queen, making her claim. “He hasn’t divorced me yet, and it most probably won’t happen until the threat of Samael is completely removed. Which means that your little courtesan attentions will have to wait.” She gives Zestari a once over that could make any woman feel naked and ashamed, but Zestari has been a courtesan for too long. She just grins back, as if she were accepting some kind of provocation.
“The separation must be enacted immediately,” she says.
Cerys circles Zestari like a sleek feline in black lace. I’ve never seen that look on her face, but by the cursed realms, it does things to me. My cock twitches in my leather pants. I rest my hand on the buckle of my belt, keeping my reaction hidden. I could, of course, just order Zestari to leave, defend Cerys’ position, but it’s dangerous. Besides, I can’t get enough of her acting so territorial over me. Who would have thought that it would turn me on the way it does.
“I don’t know if you realize what you’re doing, courtesan. You’re bossing your queen around. Next time your realm stands before its destruction, I’ll send you to find allies and solutions, then I’ll have you take shit from some random wanton that drools over your husband.”
“It’s you who put the realm in danger in the first place, Queen Cerys. It was only fair that you went out to find solutions, too.”
“I have to correct you about that,” I step to Cerys’ side. “Cerys channeled into me the dark powers of the dead at the Cemetery of Doom. She saved my life doing that, and she did again by helping me get back the Firestone.”
Cerys holds her hand in Zestari’s face. “You see I’m carrying a piece of it in my wedding ring.”
“A wedding ring you will soon have to remove,” Zestari retorts. Her frustration shows red in her face, distorting it. This isn’t even about me anymore. It’s a power struggle with Cerys.
“All right, I need to be alone now, and since neither of you is willing to leave, I will,” I declare, heading out of the bath chamber.
“No,” Cerys protests. I don’t turn around, because I can’t let either of them see the boner that now pushes against my pants. “This is your chamber, and you need rest, you need to recover after everything you—No, wait. After everything we have been through. If anyone should leave, it’s her.” She spits out that last word with a serious dose of disdain.
By now I’ve managed to control my boner, and I turn around to face them.
Fuck damn it, even if we weren’t bonded mates, any woman would pale compared to Cerys, even someone like Zestari. She’s the typical Fire Fae with sleek dark hair and red eyes, skin like smooth bronze and muscular limbs, and she sure knows how to use her courtesan skills to make the best out of herself, but Cerys is a whole new level of seductive. She’s in a league by herself. She’s a queen defending her territory, my queen. But, as much as I enjoy her possessive attitude, I have to keep a cool head, and remember our purpose. We can’t let anyone see that we’re back together, and we can’t let it get back to Kareim that I know about his plot against me.
I square my shoulders, taking an authoritative, forbidding attitude.
“Then I will ask you both to leave now,” I declare as coldly as I can. “And you, Zestari. Let this be the last time you ignore my orders. If they truly didn’t get to you, then make sure you ask what my latest orders are. Until my separation from Queen Cerys is clarified, I will be attended by male servants exclusively.” I get out of the way, motioning towards the exit. “That is all.”
Queen and courtesan measure each other, with Zestari being the first to bow to me and retreat, even though she lingers by the door, waiting for Cerys. There’s no way she’s leaving me alone with my still-wife, and probably it’s best that way. If she leaves now and Cerys stays, the whole castle will be vibrating with the rumor that the Queen has secured my affections again.
Cerys and I lock eyes, and I don’t think I can hide what I feel. I can’t control the way I stare at her. Passion tears through my heated irises, my entire body reacting to her. Every cell in my body is aware of her presence, of her smell. Probably unable to hold the intensity without jumping in my arms Cerys turns around briskly, walking past Zestari and out my chamber. Nazarean hisses at the courtesan before he does the same.
The door closes, and my heart cringes inside my chest. I crave Cerys here with me, I crave to yank her into my arms, crush her against me and make her feel just how much she and I belong together. Make her understand on the deepest level that she is completely mine, as I am hers.
Cerys
I CAN BARELY KEEP MY anger in check as the guards escort me to the Hall of Ceremonies, the portal of worlds swirling behind the great royal dais rising at the far end. Heat spreads over my neck and face as I remember our wedding here, and the love in Xerxes’ eyes that he’s now forced to suppress.
The crowd splits in two to let me pass, a retinue of personal guards behind me, led by Marayke. I can feel the guards’ hostile glares denting my back, certainly still thinking that I killed two of their colleagues when Kareim Velduros first imprisoned me after my supposed betrayal. The supposed betrayal that the entire sea of courts, fire folk, servants and guards in here obviously remember all too well. Their hostile energy is all around, and the shield I’ve been keeping around myself can’t deflect it as well as I’d like.
But soon I notice I’m growing comfortable with the energy instead of resisting it. Must be because I’ve started to tap into the dark Tartarian magic that flows in my bloodline from my father Hades, and the unorthodox kind of magic I’ve inherited from my mother’s side, from Merlin himself. Xerxes is going to need all the help he can get on this mission, and I’d go to any lengths for that. We could be up against an Eldritch terror for all we know.
But witnessing the scene from last night, Zestari in Xerxes’ bath chamber, didn’t help much in matters of control. Since I’ve already cracked the door to receiving that energy, the darkness has come flooding in. In fact, the first person that my eyes lock on as I head towards the rocky throne is her, the Fire Fae courtesan.
I wish I could move faster, get over there and make sure she can’t come anywhere near Xerxes, but no chance. Not with the dress I’m wearing, with its long, heavy train that drags behind me. Curiosity fills people’s gazes as they sit back at their tables, and even though this hall alone is as large as a stadium, my position as I finally reach Xerxes’ royal table on the pedestal makes me visible to every single pair of eyes in here. Better this way, I tell myself as I take my seat at the opposite end of the table, across from Xerxes, looking with a poker face into his powerful red eyes. This way Zestari will have to be careful about her moves.
He looks royal and intimidating as he sits there in his black armor with the spikes on his shoulders, his crown on his head, his black hair falling in wild waves to his large shoulders. The sight of him alone is enough to get me creamed between my legs, but frustration puts a claw around my throat.
His gaze is as royal
as the rest of him, detached and in control. He’s playing the part so well that I actually wonder if he still wants me. What if that moment last night when we locked eyes, and I sensed fiery passion coming from him was only wishful thinking? What if he, with his millennia of experience and self-control, was actually able to make himself immune to what we share?
Duke Draven and another high lord flank Xerxes on each side, while I have Marayke and a high duchess on mine. To my boiling rage I discover that my presence isn’t enough to get rid of Zestari. She serves at the table, walking around with a carafe of wine, staring daggers at me. She’s wearing a tight red dress that goes annoyingly well with her glowing golden skin, her long straight hair falling down her back. Two small horns stick out of her skull, protruding through her lush hair, making her look like a sexy little devil.
Duke Draven stares at her from under his dark eyebrows, as if he suspects her of something, too. He obviously doesn’t like her, and I’m grateful for that. Makes me feel like I have an ally.
I scan the crowd for Kareim. It would be impossible to spot him in such a sea of people if he were a normal fire fae, but he’s so keen on luxury he’ll certainly stick out like a sore thumb when he appears, not to mention that he’ll probably make his entrance in style.
“Zestari told Kareim that you found her in Xerxes’ chamber,” Marayke says as she leans in to me. “He supports her crush on the King.”
“Of course,” I grunt, low enough that only she can hear me. “Much better having a courtesan in the King’s bed than a Queen with real influence in the affairs of the realm.”
As if on cue, Kareim approaches from the back, like some kind of important character from backstage. He’s got his own people flanking him, enhancing his importance, his mage robe colorful and glittery, his High Mage staff in his hand. He’s wearing a mage tiara that looks more like a crown, his red hair framing his head like rusty wires. He fixes me with his foxy eyes, and in them I can see more hatred than I ever thought could fit in a single creature.
He takes his seat at the table with his face to the crowd, close to Xerxes.
“Now that the High Mage has graced us with his presence,” Xerxes mocks, raising an eyebrow at Kareim, “the feast can finally begin.”
He stands, and a deafening sound fills the hall as everybody else follows suit. Xerxes lifts his golden goblet, presiding over the crowd.
“The victory yesterday was all yours,” he begins, his voice vibrating against the walls. “You maintained defense on the ramparts against the portals of Hell opening at the city borders more effectively than any other army would have. You all fought bravely, giving me and the Queen the chance to bring in the ally that tipped the chances in our favors.
“I know. It was something that I myself did that drew this powerful enemy into our lives, and unleashed him upon the realm. It was something I did the night we got the Firestone that made Samael our enemy.” We lock eyes for a moment, an intense look that everybody can see, but Xerxes chooses not to get into the details of what we did. I understand that his actual goal is to point out that my supposed betrayal isn’t the only thing responsible for Samael’s attack. “Still, after everything that happened, the Queen and I cannot be expected to continue our relationship as husband and wife. We’ll find a way to severe our tie as bonded mates, but that will have to wait, because despite the victory yesterday against Samael, the danger is far from beaten.
“With Lysander now as our ally, it’s not likely that Samael will dare come after us the way he did before, because now the impossible has happened—we have our longtime enemy, the strongest antagonist we ever faced on our side and, with him, all of his allies. You heard him yesterday. Still, Samael won’t leave things as they are. He will come after me again, and he’ll make demands. This war is still happening, only it will be happening at another level. I can assure you that I’ll keep you and the entire realm out of it, but in order to do that I need all of my strength to focus on what’s coming next.”
Xerxes keeps talking, but Duke Draven draws my attention as he leans to the side as a nervous-looking servant bends down to whisper in his ear, wringing his hands. Alarmed, Draven rises from the table, and follows the servant outside, but what punches worry in my chest is Kareim’s reaction to this. There’s a small lift at the corner of his mouth, cunning in his eyes.
He turns his head to me slightly, and our gazes meet, enabling me to see both sides of his face—the pretty one, that resembles Marayke, his sister, and the one that Nazarean slashed and maimed the first time he attacked me, the first time we met. This is the thing that he hates me for the most, besides the fact that I have more power than him.
But this time I’m angry enough to meet his threatening glare with darkness of my own. I smile back, not blinking, allowing some of the Tartarian dark power that I can now feel to seep into my irises. I can feel it intensify the golden glow, giving it something shadier at the same time, as if an evil spirit were looking at him through the lenses of my eyes.
Kareim registers it, I can tell by the way he leans back, even if only slightly. He grips his staff harder, which he’s still holding even though he’s seated.
“Tonight, feast,” Xerxes encourages his people. “Open your energy and let the rich rivers of power flow through you. Let the volcanoes erupt and the rocks shake, let thunder split the skies. Soak in the energy, and use it to expand your power.”
Energy travels through the entire hall and my own body, causing me to shiver, pleasantly filling me with the power of the Fire Realm. My eyes close for a moment as I take in the pleasure of becoming one with it. When I first came here it was only for Xerxes’ sake. I didn’t have friends or anything that would bind to this Hell-like place—even though, the more I experience the Fire Realm the more I feel it resembles the planet Venus more anything else. This might be the dark energy speaking, but I can’t imagine leaving this place ever again. This is my husband’s realm, and my place is by his side, so I’ve started to integrate it.
Everybody hails and raises their goblets, and soon music fills the hall. It doesn’t take long until the attendees lose all tension, clamor and noise making it impossible to hear each other at the tables. I’m grateful for the distraction, because it was a burden, putting up with all the hostility directed at me. As the party picks up, hardly anyone is looking.
Except Kareim. I can sense he’s acutely aware of me even when he’s not looking over. It doesn’t take a genius to see that he’s never going to stop plotting against me. There’s no way Kareim and I can co-exist in the same world, and that is a problem, because I promised Marayke that I would spare him, if Xerxes and I win this. But the bastard will never stop trying to destroy us, I can see that now.
I stare daggers at Kareim as I stroke Nazarean, who hisses in my lap, sensing Kareim’s hatred towards us. He remembers with pleasure the moment he slashed the Mage’s face, and he feels he should have done far worse.
“Remember,” I whisper to him. “Our ultimate target isn’t Kareim, but the Council member that’s behind him, the one who wants Xerxes out of the way.”
I try to suppress the shudder that runs through me as the thought of an Eldritch terror lights up in my mind again.
“Why would a Council member want Xerxes out of the way?” I ask Marayke. “I mean, he’s been doing a great job of keeping cosmic behemoths at bay for thousands of years.”
“It’s simple, Cerys—they fear what you and Xerxes can achieve together. Now that you got Lysander the King of Frost on your side, you’re more dangerous than ever before. Together you could...” She pauses, as if she just realized the magnitude of this herself. “You could rule all the realms. I think whoever is behind Kareim fears your power as much as much as Xerxes’.”
“If only you could find out who it is,” I tell her, but Kareim turns to look at us as he brings his goblet to his mouth. I think he’s a little drunk, because there’s lust in his now unfocused glare, the same kind that reminds me of that day in the
dungeon, when he told me he could...No, I can’t go there, remembering that particular part will only throw me off my game.
Marayke and I have to split up if we want to keep Kareim from suspecting that she and I are on good terms, and I make my way through the gathered courts towards my husband. They move out of the way, allowing me to get closer to Xerxes.
Of course I find Zestari orbiting around him, a tray in her hands, batting her eyelashes up at him. He glances at her as he speaks with one of the High Courts, his eyes stopping on me only once. My lips pucker as if I’ve just sucked lemon. Could it be that he really is playing with the idea of fucking her? No, it can’t be, at least it isn’t what I sense from him. And, as his bonded mate and after everything we’ve been through together, I can sense him pretty well. He has to pretend to be at least marginally interested in Zestari so as not to awaken even more suspicion from her side, and he has to maintain a mask of detachment towards me.
But it still hurts and angers me, and I can’t pretend that it doesn’t.
“Hang in there,” Marayke whispers behind me. “Remember, it’s you he loves, and no woman will ever be able to take that away from you.”
“But if they’ll find a way to severe our mates’ bond—”
“That’s not going to happen. You and Xerxes have shared too much, and I could sense how the energy of the Fire Realm went through you during his speech. You’re becoming one not only with him, but with his entire realm because of your bond. Your connection is becoming indestructible.”
I breathe in deeply, eyes on the handsome king with the sharp warrior features that I’m dying to touch and kiss. He might only be playing a part when he looks at me with that detachment, but it still drives a stake through my heart.
“Milord.” It’s Duke Draven, who’s just reappeared by his side. His dark eyes are full of tension. I can’t hear what he says next, he’s keeping it low, and I’m not close enough, but Xerxes’ face changing with every word that leaves the man’s mouth.