Era of the Moon, page 6
Cassiopeia smiled at her sister before changing the subject. “Speaking of handsome princes that shouldn’t be trusted – I saw you enjoyed dancing with Prince Sebastian.”
Cerilla raked a hand down her face in shame. “Yeah, talk about a lapse in judgement. He was using me to anger Callahan and distract us. His hunger for a Trial win is palpable.”
“So is Callahan’s.” Cassiopeia reminded her.
“This is why I need Sterling to be mated to me. So we can win the Trial and then go home to start our lives together.”
“Then I pray the goddess’ blessings upon you, sister.” Their eyes met, and Cerilla could see the care for her in Cassiopeia’s eyes. “As will I pray for your safe return after the Trial.” Her hand covered Cerilla’s with a comforting squeeze.
“I will survive this. Don’t worry about me.” Cerilla’s eyes scanned her sister, who looked sicker by the day. Her eyes wore heavy dark circles beneath them, and her prominent cheek bones were now nearly jagged due to her sunken cheeks. “Take care of yourself while I’m gone.” Cerilla urged, she recalled that once the wasting sickness had taken hold of their mother, she hadn’t lasted a year – and Cerilla was about to spend nearly one hundred days away from her sister. Fear slithered into her stomach, but this time it wasn’t fear for herself.
“I feel fine, and the healers have made great strides in understanding the wasting sickness in the last few years. I will be better than ever when you return.” Cerilla hoped this were true.
“As will I.” They gazed at one another meaningfully, before embracing in a tender moment of sisterly love. And neither could help the well of tears that pooled in their eyelids as they did so.
Not long after, a knock pulled them from there embrace.
“Are you expecting anyone?” Cassiopeia asked.
“No. Could it be Braun and Sven returning? Cerilla asked.
“You think those derelicts would knock? It’s more likely they’d come swinging in through the balcony door.” Cassiopeia and Cerilla giggled, imagining them doing just that.
“I’ll get the door.” Cerilla replied.
“It’s just as well, I need to get back to the room and make sure Braun and Sven aren’t actually rearranging all the furniture.” Another chuckle fell from their lips but was stopped short when Cerilla opened the door to reveal Callahan.
“Ceri.” Callahan’s husky voice floated into Cerilla’s ears as his bedroom eyes pinned her to the very spot she stood in.
Cassiopeia rolled her eyes before stepping into his view. “Prince Callahan.” She did not sound pleased.
Only her voice snapped him from his staring contest with her sister. He cleared his throat, clearly not expecting Cerilla to have any company at this hour. “Princess Cassiopeia.” A proper Prince replaced the rakish male who had appeared at Cerilla’s door that night, it was almost comical how fast he could flip that switch.
Comical…or concerning.
“At ease.” She replied as she slid behind him, giving Cerilla a stern look before disappearing down the hall.
The intense gaze appeared again. Whenever he gave her that look, her mouth went dry while other parts of her became wet. His stare stripping her bare and his smirk sending her knees wobbly.
“Ceri,” Her name dripped from his tongue like honey. “Might I come in?”
Cerilla poked her head out of the door, peering down the hallway both ways, looking for prying eyes. “Yes, you may.” She stepped aside after seeing the halls empty, basking in the intoxicating cedar scent wafting off of him and the glorious sensation of his fingers brushing seductively across her abdomen.
As a sigh of contentment fell from her lips she remembered her plan, to separate herself from Callahan and align herself with Sterling. She took a cautionary step back, not trusting herself as long as she could smell his earthy aroma. “What are you doing here?”
“We won’t see each other much tomorrow, as the trails to our base camps lead in different directions from here.” His explanation was a weak one. He sighed. “I guess I just wanted to see you.” Stepping back into her bubble, his hands captured her hips in an all too familiar way. “How do you feel?” His predatory, wanting gaze turned soft and her resolve crumbled. She couldn’t help but wish that Sterling would have been the one to come to her door that night to check on her, but he hadn’t and she assumed it was because he was too caught up in his own worries to be concerned for her.
“Honestly,” Cerilla paused, her eyes searching his for whatever deception or blind ambition her sister saw in him. But she found none. “I am a little scared.”
“I will protect you, Ceri.” His calloused hand grazed across her cheek as he moved to brush hair off her face. Then his hand stayed there, palm under her jaw and fingers wrapped around the back of her neck. In that moment, she appreciated how steady and sure of himself he was.
“You can’t be everywhere at once, and…” She paused, unsure she should share her doubts of his loyalty.
“And what?” His thumb tenderly rubbed up and down her cheek.
“And at the end of the day you want the Earth Province to win.” Her bottom lip quivered, and a rogue tear dripped down her cheek without consent. So much for standing strong in the presence of your enemies.
“Angel girl,” Cerilla blinked up at him in surprise. That was the first time he had ever called her something other than her name. "My win would never come at the expense of your life.” His statement wasn’t as reassuring as he meant it to be, because that meant it might come at the cost of other things that mattered to her. But her confusion with his statement didn’t stop her from allowing his lips to meet hers. Nor did it stop her from pushing the kiss farther, jumping up to wrap her legs around his waist while she ran her tongue along the seam of his lips.
A growl, low and guttural, emanated from the back of Callahan’s throat and in one swift motion he closed the door with his foot and pulled her tight against him. His hand wormed its way between them, popping the buttons of her blouse, catching her breasts in his hands as they spilled out of her top.
Breaking the kiss, Callahan pulled back to admire her, his eyes hooded with lust. A smirk spread across his lips as his tongue darted out, licking his full bottom lip with seductive hunger. With groping hands he continued to caress her while his head dropped to the base of her neck, his tongue swirling over her skin as he worked his way back up to her lips.
Cerilla’s back hit the bed, freeing up his skillful hands to wander the landscape of her body. Titillating pain thrummed from her breasts, as Callahan worked her sensitive peaks roughly. A gasp erupted from her mouth, causing him to smirk against her lips – satisfied with the reactions he could pull from her.
With her corset now gone, Callahan made work of her skirts. The sound of ripping fabric filled the bed chamber, followed by silence as he drank in her naked body with a hungry gaze. Cerilla stared back at him, a challenge in her eyes, all thoughts of Sterling temporarily gone.
Cerilla leaned up on her elbows, luxuriating in the feeling of his eyes on her body, but she didn’t want to only be stared at like a relic or antique, she wanted to be touched.
“Put your hands on me or I’ll find someone who will.” This was a false promise, but by that point she knew how to rile up the Earth Prince.
“Never going to happen.” His eyes filled with possession. With practiced ease his hands darted to his belt, releasing himself from the prison his pants had become.
Cerilla bit back another sharp gasp when his strong hands found their way under her bent knees, pulling her toward his position at the end of the bed.
“Where does the Princess require my hands?” Callahan asked as he raked his hands up her body, leaving goosebumps in their wake. “Here?” He placed a hand around her throat like a necklace. Cerilla shook her head. “Here?” She couldn’t hold back her gasp when Callahan’s fingers collided with her nipples in an unforgiving flick. “How about here?” His big hands groped her hips, traveling back to painfully squeeze her bottom. Cerilla shook her head again. “I think I know where the Princess wants to be touched.” His hands found her inner thighs and started inching upward in a painfully slow fashion. She was nearly writhing beneath him, soft whimpers of need falling from her lips like a prayer. But Callahan liked to play with his prey before eating.
The wood floor creaked beneath Callahan’s weight as he dropped to his knees. He was now eye level with what he desired most. Cerilla could feel his breath, a teasing sensation on her most sensitive flesh. “Is it here, Cerilla?” He slipped a single digit through her slick folds, and she bucked up, mewling in response. “Say it, Princess. Tell me how to touch you.”
“Callahan, I-” A knock sounded from the door, interrupting Cerilla’s near confession of desire, drawing both of their attention.
“Ignore them.” He placed a kiss to her inner thigh, a mere inches away from where she truly wished to be touched. “They’ll go away.”
“Cerilla?” Sterling was on the other side of the door. It was as if ice cold water flushed through her veins, sobering Cerilla up from her lust-induced high.
“Fecking hell.” Callahan cursed, his eyes shooting a wicked glare toward the door. If looks could kill, and pass through doors, Sterling would be dead.
“Just a minute!” Cerilla yelled, choking on her words. “You need to leave.” She whispered harshly.
“He needs to leave.” His fingers slipped inside her once again, a desperate trick to get her on his side, and as good as he made her feel, she knew it was wrong.
“You shouldn’t have been here. This was a mistake.” Another growl formed in his throat, though this one was fueled by irritation. Cerilla wrapped herself in a fluffy robe, and callously tossed Callahan’s pants to him. “Get dressed and get out.”
Callahan rolled his eyes, stepping into his pants with ease. “How do you expect me to get out? Dematerialize through the wall?” Sarcasm laced his words.
“Go out to the balcony and figure it out. Create a vine bridge from here to your balcony or something, I know it’s close by.” His elemental powers could come in quite handy when a covert escape had to happen.
“You would have that boring lump come in here while I exit like some secret over the balcony?” He almost looked hurt, but anger and possessive jealousy were his predominant emotions in that moment. But despite his seething anger, he made one final request of her. “Meet me in the Dark Wood on night two, when the moon is highest in the sky.” Cerilla was hesitant, and he could sense that. He slipped a hand beneath her robe, massaging her breast tenderly. “Please.” His lips found their way to her neck, dulling her sense of logic.
“Fine, okay. I will find you on night two.” Cerilla conceded, stepping out of Callahan’s reach. “Now leave.”
“Can’t I stay? Aren’t I more important to you than he is?”
“He is my fiancé.” Was her only reply, but it was enough to send Callahan stomping through the doors and into the night without another word.
Cerilla caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror as she rushed to the bedroom door, where a patient Sterling was still waiting. She looked a flushed, disheveled mess. Frantically she kicked her ripped and discarded clothing under the bed, releasing a whispered curse when her pinky toe collided with the bed post. Running a hand through her hair she attempted to compose herself, but it only did so much.
The door pulled open with a squeak and revealed a stoic Sterling leaning against the doorframe. For some reason, his casual posture and the lateness of the hour caused Cerilla to view him in a different light. Or maybe it was left over arousal thrumming through her veins.
Sterling’s normal put together essence was relaxed. His hair was rumpled, looking like the result of tossing and turning in bed. His clothes, normally pressed and tucked with precision were slouchy and casual. His sleep pants were hanging low on his hips, revealing the beginnings of V-shaped muscle divots that a few weeks of training for the Trial had created. Sterling’s eyes found hers, peeking down sheepishly through his long lashes.
“Hello, Cerilla.” His voice was deeper than usual, infused with sleep. “Can I come in?” He asked, just as Callahan had, but Sterling’s ask was much more sincere. Had she told Callahan no, he would have weaseled his way in, but if she told Sterling no, he would have respectfully bid her goodnight. With guilt she began to wonder if she had been taking him for granted all along.
As she stared at the handsome, proper male before her she wondered who she wanted to stand by her side and raise children with her one day? A male who snuck into her room under cover of night to taste from her and leave under angry circumstances, asking for what she could not give? Or a gentle soul who respected her?
“Of course, you can.” She stepped out of the way, and suspicious guilt filled her head as she looked around the room. If she were being honest, she’d admit that both the room and she looked half-fecked. The bed was mussed, her corset lay on the floor, and her hair was tangled in the back. But Sterling’s mind was innocent, and he trusted her, so he didn’t suspect a thing.
Sterling sat leaned against the edge of the bed, in the very place Callahan had just been breathing life into her nether regions. “I haven’t been able to sleep.” He admitted.
“Oh? Is everything all right?” Cerilla joined him on the bed, trying to ignore the throbbing in her loins, which had yet to get the memo that the moment had passed.
“Not really.” He looked at her thigh, which was peeking out from her robe. His hand was half-raised, as if he wanted to rest it there. He had done this a million times, placed a hand to her leg, but never on her bare skin. Cerilla smiled at him and guided it down to her leg with her own hand. His cheeks flushed, but his thumb immediately began tracing a pattern on her thigh, relishing the touch of her smooth skin under his hand.
“What’s wrong?”
“A few things.” He sighed.
“Such as?”
His chin tilted up, allowing his hazel eyes to meet hers. “I wanted to apologize for what happened at the ball. I should never have let my jealousy dictate my decisions, gotten so drunk, or have pulled you toward the-” The words sex party were stuck in his throat, and the blush was spreading over his cheeks and down his neck.
“I forgive you.” Partly because she knew he was sincerely sorry, but mostly because she had some transgressions of her own that she would not be admitting to him. “But this isn’t all that bothers you?”
“Does it make me less masculine to admit I am scared about the Trial?” He looked away from her again.
Maybe, she thought, but “No,” was her answer.
“And that I’m scared of the priestesses.” Cerilla giggled. “I’m not joking! They’re so serious and ancient. Children of the deities and all. Plus they’re all females!”
“Scared of a powerful female, are you?” Cerilla teased.
“No-I-it’s…” He sputtered for a moment before gathering his thoughts and continuing. “They send all their brothers away to fight an invisible battle in the Fog, saying it’s to protect our Realm from some unknown evil, while the priestesses sit here on the Isle and take our tithes and revel…I don’t know.” He shrugged. “I think they’re more powerful than we know. My father has some theories on it and why any being who comes to the Isle uninvited are never seen again.” His father was very powerful, but also a loon that was prone to conspiracy theories. But even Cerilla admitted it was odd that those who dared visit the Isle for anything other than the Trial or a sacred holiday seemingly disappeared.
“Don’t worry about the priestesses, we have lived in peace with them for a long time. They’re harmless.”
“We live in peace because we give them everything they want.” He muttered.
Desperate to change the subject, Cerilla put her fingers under his chin and pulled his gaze back to hers. “But I’ll say this…I’m scared about the Trial too. However, we’ll have each other to get through it.” Cerilla gave him a sweet smile, one he returned with ease.
“I wondered as much, and it’s part of the reason for my visit. I worried you might be scared, not that you’re weak just…you never planned to be the champion. I thought we might keep one another company tonight. You know, with it being our last night.” His intentions and nervous babbling warmed her heart.
“This won’t be our last night.” Cerilla said, but she knew it could be, she just didn’t want to think that when she had her whole life before her.
“So,” Sterling glanced around her room. “Can I stay?”
“You may.” Cerilla stood, walking to the side of her bed and putting out the lantern.
“What are you doing?” Sterling looked nervous again.
“Going to bed.” Cerilla answered obviously.
“That’s not what I meant. I thought we could talk, or, or, play cards, or-“ He searched the room for options.
“I know you didn’t mean this, but I’m tired and I figured we could share comfort tonight.” Cerilla pulled back the covers and gestured to the other side of the bed. “Is that okay?” Maybe she was testing him, to see if he could in any way rise to the occasion of being the type of partner she wanted.
“Yes,” Sterling cleared his throat, “That will be fine.”
“Good.” Cerilla giggled quietly as she slipped between the sheets, feeling something new as she considered the prospect of the growing feelings for Sterling that were threatening to bloom in her heart. She watched with kind eyes as Sterling put out the lantern on his side of the bed and tucked himself in.
They both laid stiffly on their backs for a long while, staring up at the ceiling in awkward silence.
“Sterling?” Cerilla finally said.
“Yes?”
“You can move closer.” Cerilla offered.
“Okay.” The bed dipped as they both scooted their way to the middle of the mattress. And then they laid in silence again, but this time shoulder to shoulder.
“Sterling?” She whispered.
“Mhmm?” His voice trembled.
“Can I take charge here?” Cerilla asked.
