A Crown of the Gods, page 35
“Changed?”
“It was as if something inside of me woke up. Something was whispering, trying to get my attention …. I could hear it, but I couldn’t understand what it was saying. I didn’t know what it was—I didn’t know who you were—but I couldn’t shake the feeling that I needed to listen closer. I could barely think of anything else. I couldn’t eat. I couldn’t sleep. Not until I made sense of things. Of you.”
“Is that why you were such an asshole when we first met?” she asked, grinning. “Because you were hungry and sleep-deprived?”
“Maybe.” A flash of a smile, and then the seriousness returned. “But it was also because I was …afraid.”
Her grin fell.
He tilted his head back toward her. The sunlight catching on his face made it look like his skin was radiating magic—like he was glowing from the inside out.
“When you spend as much time as I had in the dark, the light starts to seem like an enemy,” he said quietly. “You seemed like an enemy. Honestly, after I lost you the first time, everything seemed like an enemy to me for so long. I just wanted to destroy it all. Gods. Kings. Everything and everyone in between—I told myself I wanted to do whatever I had to do to get back to my god status, but the truth was that I only wanted to cause as much death and destruction as I possibly could, and I knew being a god again would help with that. And if I had managed to become that god again, then it might have been me that the world was contending with, now. Not just Malaphar. I still think about that sometimes: how close I came to …” His breath hitched. “To destroying so much.”
“It would never have been you,” she said without hesitation. “Even if I hadn’t shown up.”
He took one of her hands, and he absently traced the edges of it with his thumb as he said, “Maybe not. But I’m glad I came across a light in the darkness, all the same.”
She slipped her fingers through his and leaned against his chest, letting the beat of his heart and the deep vibrations of his voice resonate through her.
“And I realize now that the light I felt when I first saw you in this lifetime was the same sort of magic I felt when I first came across you in that past life. The same force, reminding me of what I’d been, once upon a time. Dragging me back to the light.”
He gently pushed her away from his chest so he could look into her eyes.
Time seemed to slip away, out of existence, and she thought her breath might go with it. That was how it happened in all the stories, wasn’t it? Breathless and waiting for those two words she knew he was going to say …
But that was not their story; instead, it was just as she’d told him a moment ago: Suddenly she could breathe again. Every inhale was easier than the last, and for once she didn’t feel anxious, or like she needed to escape from the overwhelming feelings bubbling up inside of her.
She remained perfectly calm, even as he leaned in to kiss her.
Even as he took her other hand in his and said, “I love you, Casia. Valori. Thorn—whatever your name, whatever your appearance—I’ve loved you across lifetimes, through endings and beginnings, with all that I have, all that I’ve ever had. I never stopped loving you, even when I thought I’d lost you. I will never stop. Whether as your guardian, your captain, or whatever else. It doesn’t really matter to me.” He squeezed her hands more tightly.
She felt like she was floating, and she couldn’t fight the urge to lift onto her tiptoes, to bring her lips closer to his.
“But I think we should make it more official.” He leaned to meet her as she rose up, capturing her mouth in another slow kiss.
And as he drew back, he cupped her face in his hands, and he finally, finally whispered those two words she’d been waiting for. “Marry me?”
She couldn’t speak right away. So she just nodded. Once. Slowly. Then again, again, again—each motion more fervent than the last—and then she was laughing, stretching taller so she could kiss him once more. He wrapped his arms around her and lifted her fully into that kiss, sweeping her off her feet and spinning her around. They spun and kissed and danced across that hilltop until they were dizzy, until he placed her back on the ground and she collapsed onto the blanket, grabbing his hand and dragging him down with her as she went.
They stretched out, propped partially up and facing each other, and Cas reached to trail a hand across his jaw, tucking a few strands of hair behind his ear.
“Yes,” she finally managed to whisper. “Yes.”
He pulled her close, and the warmth that rushed through her made her feel as though the sun was shining on them and no one else.
After a few minutes of relaxing against him and replaying the past moments over and over in her head, she smiled and said, “Did you practice that proposal? It was quite good.”
He laughed softly. “I’ve been thinking about it for some time now.”
“Lifetimes, I presume.”
“Exactly.”
She pulled away, restless—but in a good way for once; she was simply too happy to sit still, so she sat upright and breathed in deep lungfuls of the flower-scented air, and she fixed her gaze on the world stretching out before them. Even though the sun was nearly set, everything somehow seemed brighter. Clearer.
“What are you thinking?” Elander asked.
She glanced back at him, smiling again. “That I want to see a thousand more of these sunsets with you. At least.”
He sat up beside her, moving in that easy, confident way that carried over to his tone. “We will,” he promised.
And she hoped with everything in her that he was right.
CHAPTER 31
AS NIGHT DESCENDED, THEY MADE THEIR WAY BACK DOWN THE hillside.
Neither of them were ready to return to the palace, so they walked hand-in-hand through the outskirts of the city instead.
Cas kept her hood drawn loosely around her face, but she was only half-heartedly trying to hide her identity. Caution was not a bad idea, but her days of hiding were getting further and further behind her.
A nervous energy teemed in the air—it was becoming a regular feature of this city—but most of the people they passed greeted them warmly enough. Word had spread of the lengths they’d gone to in the mountains, and of the steps they were taking to try and create allies near and far—and these things seemed to have won them some favor.
More and more people were beginning to greet Cas as though she was worthy of a crown.
They wanted to see her, to speak with her. The owner of the city’s finest dress shop—who introduced himself as a relative of one of the Eldrin merchants she’d protected—even flagged her down so he could present her with an elegantly wrapped box that he’d been planning to deliver to the palace. Inside, she found a beautifully woven scarf he’d made specifically for her.
The gifts and the attention felt strange, but such things helped her picture it more clearly: A future where she and Elander frequently strolled through the city like this, a King and Queen who kept in touch with the needs of their people.
They wandered along with no real destination in mind, and eventually the road curved and led them to the colorful stalls and waving advertisement banners of Market Row.
Most everything was closed by this hour, but the lingering scent of fruits and spices and other goods still hung in the air. The street was narrow, pinched in by countless shops competing for limited space, but the end of it opened into a sweeping view that stretched all the way to the distant palace. It had been a royal decree, decades ago—nothing could be built that would obstruct this view, so that the city’s rulers would never be far from the mind of buyers and sellers.
Cas’s gaze lifted toward that palace. “If we stay out much later, they’re likely to send the army after me.”
“No need, is there?” Elander asked, yawning. “I’m worth at least twenty of that army’s soldiers.”
Cas smiled wryly at the words. “Yes, but I’m not sure Rhea and the others will see it that way.”
He didn’t argue this point.
“I suppose it isn’t going to get any easier to sneak away like this, will it? Once the palace fills up with foreign leaders and such. The preparations for that summit are beginning in earnest tomorrow—Nessa gave me fair warning.” Her smile faded a bit as she remembered the conversation.
Nessa was, among other things, arranging a receiving room specifically for the Queen and her court to have one-on-one conversations with everyone. Talking with each and every guest was expected—along with dinner and dancing and a hundred other terrible things that Cas had been furiously taking notes about for the past weeks. Her skin itched just thinking about it all.
And that was to say nothing of the terrible threats that they would have to ward off from outside the palace.
Caden’s warning was still ringing in her ears. She needed to tell Elander everything he’d said. They needed to discuss security plans, and so much else …. But she selfishly wanted it all to wait just a bit longer.
Elander’s face was contemplative, and she wondered if he was already thinking about those discussions they needed to have.
Probably.
But he didn’t mention any of them, thankfully.
Instead, he waited until they were on a quieter street at the edge of town, and then he said, “If it begins tomorrow, then we should make tonight count.”
She glanced over her shoulder at him. He had paused beside a small, partially fenced-in sitting area, where stone benches surrounded a small fountain and flowers of at least a dozen different colors dotted the grass.
“Let’s make a deal, shall we?” he asked, kneeling and plucking a small bouquet of those flowers.
“A deal?”
The moonlight caught his eyes as he looked up at her, turning them an even more brilliant shade of blue than usual. She shivered. She would have sworn it was more than mere moonlight—that it was his magic glowing, rising to the surface. Either way, it stirred up her own magic and her heartbeat sped up as well, racing to match that pulsing power.
“I’m listening,” she said.
“Tomorrow, they will have their Queen. But tonight …”
He moved closer. She started to turn to face him, but he slid one hand against her hip and pressed his body to hers, holding her in place.
Anticipation kindled, hot and fluttering, in her stomach.
His other hand reached around and slid that bouquet of flowers into her grip as he said, “Tonight, you’re mine and mine alone.” He leaned down, tilted his face into the curve of her neck and shoulder, breathing her in for a moment before he continued in a low voice. “My name is the only one that will be on your lips.” He caressed those lips. Parted them. Used a firmer touch to guide her head back against his chest.
She closed her eyes and pressed her cheek even harder against him, drawing closer to his heartbeat.
“And you will think of nothing except the way it feels when I touch you …” His fingers trailed away from her mouth and moved over her exposed throat. “The way it feels when I kiss you …” He planted a soft trail of kisses along her jaw and down the side of her neck, flicked his tongue against her pulse. “The way it feels when I’m inside of you …” His hand moved from her throat and traveled along her body, down over her stomach before pausing, pressing and tapping at the apex of her thighs.
Her back arched slightly and her hand took his, guiding it lower, more completely against that needy center. He buried his face in the side of her neck once more, pulling his hand away as he continued to kiss her. A little note of protest escaped her at his hand’s withdrawal. She felt his lips curve in a smile against her skin.
“Do we have an agreement?” he asked.
She didn’t respond immediately, too focused on how good it felt to press against him like this, and on the little sparks that were igniting everywhere their bodies brushed together.
He gripped her arm. Spun her around to face him and pulled her even closer, held her even tighter. Tilted her chin up and lowered his mouth nearly to hers, so that his next words fell upon her lips, sending shivers cascading through her body.
“Do we have an agreement?” he repeated.
“Agreed,” she breathed. “No thoughts of crowns or royal duties tonight.”
“Good.” A wicked smile crossed his face. “So we can be as undignified as we like.”
“Yes.” She pressed her lips to that smile and kissed him slowly, savoring the way his grip on her tightened each time her tongue teased its way inside. “I expect a complete lack of decency from you tonight, thank you,” she murmured when she finally pulled back a minute later.
His lips swept over hers, tasting her one last time, before his hand slid down, grasped hers, and he led her back into motion.
They continued along the moonlit streets, moving like thieves in the night, intent on stealing a few soft moments away from the hard uncertainties that lay ahead.
There was still no clear destination in mind. He asked her where she wanted to go, but she only knew that she didn’t want to go back inside the palace—or inside of anywhere else, really. She wanted to feel the night air on her skin, to let the wind caress her hair, to bathe in the light of the exceptionally bright moon.
They ended up wandering toward the palace, but they didn’t go inside. Instead, they stole around to the back of it, following the wall that surrounded the grounds until they were a mile away at least, and the rolling lawn gave way to an increasingly dense forest—still within those grounds, but in a part of them that Cas had never ventured to. She could no longer see the palace for all the trees between here and there.
It felt wild, beautifully dark, utterly lost to the rest of the world. She slipped off her boots so she could feel the scratchy leaves and the lush patches of grass that dotted the area. The grey trees glistened in the moonlight. Fireflies danced in the dense canopy of leaves above them, and the night was quiet enough that she could hear the whisper of the Lotheran River in the distance. She walked along that wall that marked off the palace grounds, trailing her fingers over the stone, for a few feet before turning to find Elander watching her in a way that made her insides flutter.
“I’ve had a lot of fantasies about sneaking off into these woods with you, you know,” he told her.
A corner of her lips lifted. “Indecent ones, I hope.”
“Wildly indecent, obviously.”
“How do they start?” She sauntered back to him, gaze locking with his. Her hand came to rest against his hard stomach, balancing herself as she stretched taller and pressed her lips to his. Her arms soon stretched upward as well, wrapping around his neck so she could pull him deeper into the kiss.
“They start similar to this, usually,” he murmured as she finally leaned away.
“And then what happens?”
His fingers trailed over her chest, lifting her hair and moving it behind her shoulder before sliding back to the silver buttons that held her shirt together. He grasped the top one, undoing it with a deft twist of his thumb and forefinger. “Then you undress for me. Slowly.”
She held his gaze as she undid the rest of those buttons, as she slipped free of the shirt and everything beneath it. The night was the warmest one they’d had in weeks, but her skin still pebbled and her breath still caught at the sudden exposure.
He mirrored her undressing, and watching his chiseled form emerge from beneath his clothing made her skin prickle for an entirely different reason. The fire that kindled once more in her lower belly made her completely forget about the chill in the night air.
That fire burned hotter still as he brought a thumb up to trace the curve of her breast, circled the stiffened tip, and then dragged his fingers down to tug at the band of her pants. “Keep going,” he instructed her.
His eyes roamed over her as she did. He reached for the bag, took the blanket from it and shook it out before spreading it upon the leaf-littered ground—all with one hand, as the other continued to copy her movements, stripping himself of his confining clothing, loosening his belt and trousers and slipping them low enough to allow his full erection to spring free.
He beckoned her closer, caught her hand and guided it to his hardened shaft. His lips parted as she stroked him, and his eyes held hers with an intensity that made her dizzy. It was all she could do to keep her touch steady, to lick her dry lips and manage to speak in a somewhat coherent voice—
“And now?” she prompted.
His mouth pressed to hers, and his tongue followed the path her own had been tracing. She let out a gasp, and his kiss grew rougher, his teeth grazing her lips and softly biting before he caught himself and drew back so he could answer her question: “And now …” He gripped her jaw tightly, forcing her eyes to stay locked with his. “You kneel.”
The tone of his voice made her knees so weak that she was already halfway to the ground before he’d finished speaking.
She didn’t need instruction beyond this; this was a fantasy they’d played enough that her hands and mouth knew precisely what to do.
The night air felt wild and new against her flushed skin, but the way he eased into her throat was familiar, as was the way his palm remained cupped against her face, his touch turned from commanding to admiring.
From admiration came control—he was at her mercy, even as he slid more deeply into her and his fingers pushed through her hair, clutching her head. She drew his gaze down to her level, pulled him deeper into her hold with nothing more than a glance up at him from underneath her lashes.
She wielded that hold over him with increasingly bold movements of her head, her tongue, her lips—hardly coming up for air—until she sensed his knees weakening as hers had moments ago. Then she surfaced from the deep long enough to lean back and teasingly ask, “Are we capturing that fantasy yet?”
“We’re getting closer,” he said, taking hold of her jaw once more and pulling her upward, guiding her back to her feet. There was a hunger in his eyes that made her knees threaten to buckle again.
