Curse of Darkness, page 44
I clasp the back of his thigh, desperate for more, struggling to breathe as he drives his cock so far down my throat, I almost choke.
“Sorry,” he gasps. “Sorry. Goddess burn me. Vi.”
I’m not fragile. Nor am I to be denied right this moment.
I take him deep, encouraging him. Grabbing his ass, I dig my nails in, desperate for more, desperate for this connection between us.
The soft caress of his touch is a whiplash right where I need it. A moan escapes me, and Thiago throws his head back, revealing the strong column of his throat as he gasps.
“Fuck.” It’s a word raw with destruction. A sign of how far gone he is.
He never begs. He’s always in control.
I love watching his undoing flash across his face as he bucks against me. Suckling hard, I let my throat work against his depth, and he rewards me with the hot splash of his seed.
His magic is gone, his touch lost in the moment.
But as I slowly withdraw, swallowing every last drop, his green eyes flick open, locking on me with the intensity I know lingers beneath the surface. His thumb caresses my cheek, his expression hot with sudden determination.
“Oh, now you’re in trouble,” he whispers.
Turning to escape, I make it half a splash away from him before a strong arm goes around my waist and he tugs me back into his arms.
Capturing my face, he hauls me into his lap, his mouth claiming mine in a bruising kiss. It’s a hot, hungry kiss, one to make up for the lack before I drank of his cock. Sometimes I think he loves kissing me even more than he desires oral sex. It’s like all of this has been pent up inside him. A demand to claim me. Own me. Bruise. Tongues slick against each other, my breasts pressing against his chest.
“Fuck,” I breathe, drawing back for air.
He laughs as if he knows exactly what’s going through my head. “Come here.”
My knees settle on either side of his hips, and firm fingers dig into my ass as he drives me against the rigid line of his erection.
I’m wet and swollen, aching with the need to claim him.
“I want you inside me,” I breathe against the wet skin of his throat, planting little kisses against his jaw. “I need you. Now.”
“As you wish, my love,” he purrs, sinking inside me with slow, aching precision.
47
I can barely move in the aftermath, but Thiago refills the bath and hauls me into his arms, where my head rests on his chest.
One of the servants discreetly brought us a pitcher of wine and two goblets before vanishing. It’s not the sort of thing I’m used to, but I know it’s Thalia’s way of saying, I know you’re in there, you have a couple more hours to enjoy it, and then I am going to haul you out to deal with this mess.
In hindsight, I think I’d rather stay here with the wine and my husband.
“You’re quiet,” Thiago murmurs, stroking my arm.
“Maybe you’ve worn me out.”
A soft chuckle escapes him as he sips his wine. “I’d believe that if I didn’t know how insatiable you could be at times.”
It’s an opening if I want to talk.
Or a means to laugh it off if I don’t.
“I broke Unseelie.” The weight of the prophecy’s been sitting heavily on my shoulders ever since I heard it, but I never realized this was what it meant.
“And then you took a fucking sledgehammer to the southern alliance too,” Thiago says with some amusement, resting his head back against the rim of the bath. “I will never forget the expression on Maren’s face. It’s the best thing that’s happened to me in days.”
“You helped.”
He bumps his knee against mine, kissing the slope of my shoulder. “Partners in crime.”
“Mmm.”
Thiago’s laughter fades. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”
“It’s nothing.” I want to sink under the water.
“It is something, or you wouldn’t be trying to slink away. How do you feel?”
“Fine.”
“You keep using that phrase,” he murmurs, and the rub of his fingers indicate he doesn’t believe it.
It’s hard to put into words the way I feel. “There’s too much to think about. I keep pushing it aside, sitting it in that silent box in my head that I forged years ago, until I’m ready to take it out and process it.”
“Talking it out helps.”
It does. I sip my wine. “I refuse to be a god. It sounds horrible. And I don’t feel any different—I feel the same way I always did, just… finally in control of myself and my magic.”
Thiago’s a long time replying. “Then don’t be.”
He doesn’t understand. “It wasn’t as though we can hide what happened at Eidyn, Thiago. There were thousands of warriors there. Three entire armies worth of them. Everybody saw the implosion. Word spreads. The queens and princes of the Queensmoot said nothing, but Corvin will have had his ravens in the field. Lucere will discover it soon enough. I can’t hide from it. I’ve seen them all at Maia’s temple—casting their coins into her fountain and begging for her luck, for her mercy….” My breath feels like ice. “I don’t want that. And I don’t want more war.”
“There’s no saying it has to come to war.”
“You’ve met Maren,” I say acidly. “If she discovers I can wield the Hallows, then she’ll stop at nothing to destroy me. Before I can become a threat to her.”
“If she discovers it.”
“What?” Water splashes as I jerk. His glamor is good, but not even Thiago can make an entire field of armies forget what they saw.
“I’ve been gathering reports from the battle site. Every warrior says the same thing. The grounds shook, the sky spat lightning, and then this enormous firebird rose into the air, flames lashing the Hallow. They’re calling her the Daughter of Flame and Fury, and rumor has it that she rose to fight the Horned One before her flames finally burned themselves out. She was a creature of myth and magic. A legend in the making. Nobody saw you, Vi. They saw… a goddess. A firebird. And that’s what they’ll believe.”
The words capture me for a moment. “Did it really look like that?”
“You had wings, Vi. Wings of pure flame. And the look in your eyes…. For a moment I couldn’t breathe. You were so fucking beautiful. You were vengeance, fury, power. You were incredible.” He kisses my knuckles. “And then you and the Old Ones tore the Horned One’s power from him and cast him down.”
I remember how it felt to fly on those wings of fire. Maybe there’d be something good to come of it.
If I can summon the creature again.
As if she knows I’m thinking of her, those fiery wings unfurl inside my chest.
“You’re reheating the bath water, Vi.”
“Sorry.” I snap those metaphorical wings shut.
“Don’t be sorry. Now I know I’ll never have to spend another night shivering in some wet, rainy hut ever again. I knew I married you for a reason. You can warm my blankets.”
“I can also set them on fire.”
“I thought we agreed that wasn’t going to happen again.”
“It’s a good thing I didn’t want to be worshiped.” I poke his arm. Then the weight of that legacy begins to press down again, making it hard to breathe. It’s not something we can deny. Too many fae were there.
Thiago stirs, shifting me in his arms. “And it was a good thing that the firebird saved us.”
I jerk my head toward him.
Thiago sips his wine, his eyes locking on me over the rim of the goblet. “Andraste and Raith aren’t going to say a thing, Vi. And Edain can be convinced to remain silent. It’s against his own vested interests for rumors to spread that the Queen of Evernight is the Daughter of Flame and Fury. Maybe we can learn from the best? Maybe it’s our turn to twist the story? Thalia can plant rumors that the Daughter of Flame and Fury resides near Eidyn and can only be roused by a desperate heart to fight against the forces of true darkness.”
I blink. “Did you just create a fairy tale?”
“Do you want to help me flesh out the details?”
It could work. Stories twist, after all. And what better way to cast attention elsewhere than to create a mythical being? Nobody’s going to look at me and believe there’s a smoldering heart of fire deep in my chest.
“And if you ever want to test out your powers,” Thiago says, “I know a private little hunting cabin deep in the heart of the forests surrounding Mistmere. We could sneak away in the winter, when there’s enough snow to protect the forests, and I could teach you how to fly.”
“Fly?” My heart skips a beat.
“I did see the look in your eyes when I mentioned your wings, Vi.” He smiles. A soft, beautiful smile full of shared joy. “I’d love to go flying with you. You’re not the only one who’s hidden their wings for far too long.”
It sounds perfect.
Everything I’ve ever wanted is right in front of me. A home. A family. A daughter. A husband who adores me. And now this….
My magic.
Fully and wholly mine.
“I’d like that,” I whisper, sinking back into his embrace.
“Knock, knock!” someone calls through the door. “Are you out of the bath yet? You’re going to get all pruney!”
I giggle as Thiago tries to button me into his shirt. “I’m surprised you lasted this long.”
An impatient growl echoes through the door. “Are the pair of you decent?”
“No,” Thiago calls, just as I yell out, “Yes.”
There’s a moment of hesitation.
“You’re such a liar,” Thalia says, shoving the door open and entering with her hand over her eyes. “But just in case you are actually not decent, Thiago, I’m prepared to protect my poor eyes.”
“He’s wearing his trousers,” I tell her.
Thiago scowls and swats me on the backside. “Traitor.”
Thalia lowers her hand, rakes the room with a practiced eye—her eyebrow lifting when she sees the bubbles and towels everywhere—and then she turns back to us with a grin.
“You’re back!”
I have a second’s grace before she throws herself at me.
“Safe, Thalia. Safe.” I close my eyes and lean into the embrace. “Thank you. For looking after Amaya.”
“Yes, well,” she growls. “I had some choice words for a certain walking carpetbag who simply plucked her out of my lap while I was reading a book to her. They both fucking vanished right before my eyes, and I had half the bloody castle out looking for them before they returned.”
“It’s a long story.”
“Oh, I’ve heard half of it.” She takes my hands, her eyes suspiciously shiny. “Furious battles. Goblins coming to our aid. The Horned One. And this mysterious firebird thing that destroyed him. Did you have something to do with that?”
“Me?” I protest, though I know my face pales.
“Burning half the Hallow?” Thiago laughs under his breath. “Whilst it does sound like something Vi would do, I think it had something to do with the Mother of Night’s sacrifice. Perhaps she was reborn into a new body?”
Our eyes meet.
“Mmm. I need to know more about her.” Thalia taps her lips. “If there’s something with that power flying around our kingdom, then we need to know if it’s friendly.”
“The last we saw her, she was flapping north.” Thiago shrugs.
“North.” Thalia sighs. “I’ll look into it later. I wish I could tell you to lock the doors to your chambers and enjoy the next couple of days, but I can’t. It’s why I’m here. You have guests awaiting you both. One set in the audience chambers for Vi. They’ve been waiting for you to return.”
“Guests?” Who would be calling so soon after we returned? And why me?
“And Finn’s back,” Thalia says, looking Thiago in the eye. “Alone.”
His face turns grim. “Is she—?”
“Gone, Finn said. Eris came back to herself somewhere to the north of Eidyn and told him she wanted to be alone. She gave him the slip, and took the Hallow somewhere.”
Thiago sighs. “I’ll go talk to him.”
“This way, Vi,” Thalia says, clapping her hands and turning toward our bedchambers. “I’ve had the maids lay out a gown for you.”
I groan. Not another torture contraption.
“If I have to rip her out of it later,” Thiago calls, “I will do so.”
“You tear the buttons off this dress, and I’ll stitch them to your ass,” she throws over her shoulder. “It took seventy hours to have them all sewn on!”
“For fuck’s sake, Thalia.” He stalks after her.
“Fashion!” Thalia retorts. And then she winks at me. “Though I must admit, there might be a certain pair of boots awaiting Her Highness as my little gift.”
“Really?” I squeal. “You got me the boots?”
Thalia rolls her eyes. “You were practically planning to mug me for mine. What else could I do?”
And everything is right with the world again.
48
It’s not an enemy.
Nor is it, precisely, a friend.
“Your Highness,” Theron says with a rasp, a red handkerchief knotted around his throat where my mother cut his tattoo from his skin. He goes to one knee. “I owe you a boon.”
“A boon?”
The assassin tilts his face toward me. “You came for me. You sent your men to rescue me. I’ve never—” He breaks off then with a curse. “I wasn’t expecting that.”
He was in bad condition when we arrived at the Hallow. Somehow, when Baylor’s elite group stormed Hawthorne Castle and rescued Imerys, they managed to stumble across each other, and Baylor dumped him here in Ceres, before meeting us at Eidyn. Thalia sent him immediately to the infirmary, and with everything that was happening, I’ll admit I hadn’t managed to spare him a thought until this moment.
“I sent you into that,” I whisper, hating the fact he was injured on my behalf. “I knew better. I knew it would be a trap. And I still sent you into that.”
“You were right,” he admits wryly. “Your mother left an opening. I saw a chance and it was too good to resist. It was a trap.”
I wince as I examine the bandage around his throat. “I’m sorry.”
“I’m not.” This time, he turns around, gesturing to someone near the door. “Because I succeeded in my task. I managed to rescue the girl before I took a swing at your mother. I had her hidden beneath the castle when you arrived. It’s why I had to go back.”
I recognize the fae woman by the door as Lithia, one of Healer Mariana’s acolytes. She tugs on the hand of the small hooded figure at her side, and my breath catches as I realize who it is.
“May,” Theron says in the gentlest voice I’ve ever heard him speak with. “May, come here and meet the Queen of Evernight.”
“Hi,” I whisper, kneeling down so I’m level with her. “You must be May. We met at Aska, remember? I’m Vi.”
May takes a step to the side, almost letting go of Theron as she whispers, “You’re not my mother?”
It’s a question, and I suddenly realize that this little girl may have spent her entire life thinking I was until a few days ago.
Only to have that knowledge torn out from under her.
And I feel that.
All those years wishing for someone to come and rescue her. All those years wondering who I was, why I wasn’t there for her. Mouthing my mother’s vile platitudes. Living in fear within Clydain’s walls, and yearning for someone to protect her.
She may as well have been Amaya.
And it occurs to me that while I may never carry another child myself, it doesn’t mean we won’t have more children.
You will never bear another child, the Mother of Night once said to me.
But I feel it—I feel that click of destiny—as if she knew this moment awaited me. And her choice of words was clearly deliberate.
“No, I am not the mother who gave birth to you.” The breathless sensation stretches inside me. It’s too soon to spring this upon her, and perhaps I need to discuss this with Thiago first, but I know this child will be mine too. “But if you’d like to, then you can stay here with me and Thiago. You’ll be safe here.”
Her lip trembles, her eyes darting.
And Theron—of all fae—goes to his knee before her, taking her hands. “Remember what I said back in Hawthorne Castle? The woman who raised you was evil. Adaia was a wicked queen, right out of the fairy tales. And she lied. A lot. Prince Thiago is not the monster she told you he was. And Iskvien begged me to save you, because she is kind and she worried about your safety. Adaia was the monster. But now you’re free. Now you’re safe.”
May gives me a wary look.
But she nods.
“Why don’t you come and we’ll see if we can find you something to eat?” I whisper, holding out my hand to her. “I’d like to introduce you to my other daughter, Amaya. I think the two of you could become very good friends.”
“Okay,” May whispers, curling her fingers in mine.
And as our eyes meet, I know I’ve never felt more right about a decision in my life.
The sound of two little girls squealing with laughter echoes through the castle.
Thiago rests on the parapet beside me, his mouth soft with an almost-smile. “Thalia’s having the time of her life.”
Indeed, Thalia’s blowing bubbles of magic into the air while the girls try and catch them. They run through the gardens, giggling and squealing as they try to pop the bubbles. Every time they do, a fragment of song escapes—all that’s left of Thalia’s voice.
“And you?” I wrap my arms around his waist.
“It feels strange….” He pulls a face. “Strange to hear laughter through these gardens.”
The whole castle feels like it’s changed in the space of a day. I’ve caught the servants laughing more, and cook’s already bustling honey cakes out of her kitchen as if there’s a renewed demand for them.
