The Memory Curse (The Lost God Book 2), page 19
“Because I’m always calm.”
“You didn’t look so calm when Cato tried to take me,” she said.
A shadow passed over his face. “That’s true. I heard the fear in your voice and I saw you trying to fight your way out, and I admit, I lost my temper a bit.”
“A bit?”
“More than a bit. I would have cut through half the Argarian army to get to you, but it still wasn’t enough. I’m sorry I gave you a scare. It won’t happen again,” he said, pulling her back into a long, slow kiss. He drew up the hem of her dress, rough hands sliding up the soft skin of her thighs.
“Xander, I have to tell you something. And we’re in public,” she chided.
He kissed down the column of her neck, continuing to let his hands wander under her dress until one reached the apex of her thighs.
“That never bothered you before. No one is around. It’s dark. I’ve dreamed about taking you right here since the first night out here in the garden. I need you. Gods, you don’t know how much I need you.” His voice broke, and he leaned his forehead against hers. He brushed his fingers over her. “Did you miss this, Cece?”
“Yes.” She moaned as he increased the pressure and pace of his fingers against her.
“Did Rainer keep you warm while I was gone?”
Cecilia froze, a gasp stuck in her throat. “What?”
“Did you kiss him?” Xander asked, his face unreadable.
She hesitated. “That’s what I was going to tell you. I only did it to get information out of my sisters.”
Xander arched an eyebrow. “What does that have to do with kissing Rainer?”
“Gods, if I know. They asked me to do it, and I wanted to be like you and do whatever it took to get you back. We said we would both do whatever it took. Remember? The goddesses had information, so I did what I had to. It didn’t mean anything.”
“It always means something with you two,” he said, rolling his eyes. “I’d prefer you kiss any other man or woman in the kingdom.”
Cecilia took his face between her hands. “I only did it to get you back. I lost an archery contest to Sayla, and that was the price I had to pay, and then Samson made me do an exchange for the information of where to find Davide. It was worth it because he did exactly what we’d hoped he would do. You’re here now. You had to have known it was me from the state of Davide’s hand.”
Xander smirked a bit. “It turns me on when you’re that vicious.”
“He’s your brother.”
Xander shrugged. “He deserved it. Did you like it?”
“Breaking Davide’s hand? I know I shouldn’t have, but yes.”
Xander frowned. “No, did you like having an excuse to kiss Rainer?”
Cecilia squirmed in his lap. “I only wanted to get you back.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
“Yes, I liked it. He’s a good kisser.”
“Better than me?”
She sighed heavily. “Is it a competition?”
“Everything is a competition.”
“No, he’s not better than you.” It’s impossible to compare. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have, but I was desperate.”
“You can make it up to me right now,” he said.
Xander kissed her again, like he was trying to see how much of her he still had dominion over. The hand between her legs continued to rub against her as she whimpered. He brushed her panties aside, slid a finger inside her, and groaned in approval. “Always so eager for me. Want more?”
Cecilia nodded and he took her down to the ground, her tiara tumbling into the grass. She fumbled with the buttons of his pants, looking around wildly.
“Relax, love,” he whispered. “I’ll hear if anyone gets close enough to see their precious goddess on her back in the dirt.”
Cecilia relaxed in his arms as he slid inside of her, right there in the queen’s garden, where they’d first talked months before. He thrust into her, the soft, cool grass at her back in sharp contrast to the hard heat of his body flush against her front. He watched her intently, as if studying her reaction to every move he made. Cecilia bit her lip to keep from crying out, afraid to draw attention.
“Is my princess afraid that everyone will find out how badly she needs to be fucked?” Xander whispered in her ear.
She moaned louder as his teeth nipped at her neck.
“I can already feel your pussy fluttering around me. Do you want to let all those fancy courtiers know how perfect you sound when you come for me?”
“Xander,” she groaned. The dirty words made her feel incandescent with lust. He knew she liked it, but he’d never been so vulgar.
“What would people who praise their sweet little goddess think if they knew how you prefer to be worshipped—hard and fast and dirty in the queen’s garden?”
Cecilia clung to him as the tension built in her. Lightning simmered through her body, waiting to strike. He picked up the pace, and she struggled to keep quiet.
“Say that you’re mine, Cece. Say that you belong to me and I will give you what you need.” He slowed his thrusts to a gentle rocking as she whimpered. “Say it.”
“I’m yours,” she said, frantically reaching for his hips, trying to get him to move faster.
He continued to tease her. “You belong to me, love. Don’t forget that.”
With that, he moved hard and fast, his hips claiming along with his mouth. All the tension, fear, and confusion of the past few days came down on her at once. Her release crashed over her so fast, she couldn’t help but scream as his hips churned against her, prolonging the climax.
He pulled out suddenly, and she whimpered as he shoved her dress higher, spreading her legs obscenely and burying his face between her thighs. Cecilia dug her fingernails into his forearms as he pinned her hips to the ground to stop her from squirming. Xander devoured her like she was his last meal, and right when she was on the brink, he pulled away.
Her pathetic whine split the silence.
“So needy.” Xander prowled back up her body, nipping at her ear as he pushed inside her and whispered, “You taste like you belong to me.”
Her head fell back as she groaned. Jealousy made Xander feral and Cecilia would have felt guilty if his way of managing that envy hadn’t made her so mindless with desire.
“Maybe next time I’ll fuck you in front of the entire court, so there’s no mistaking who makes you feel so good,” Xander said.
Tension coiled in Cecilia’s body, her thighs shaking as another swell of pleasure crested.
Xander chuckled into her neck. “Seems you like that idea. Too bad I’m so set on being the only one who gets to see how perfect you look wrapped around my cock.”
He swallowed her scream with a kiss as she fell apart. Xander finished with a grunt, the determined set of his brow softening as he brushed the hair out of her face.
Every muscle in her body went limp. Cecilia hadn’t realized how tense she was until that moment. She was so spent that she wasn’t even certain she’d be able to walk home.
Finally, he pulled back, buttoning his pants and pulling her dress into place as he helped her to her feet. He swiped her tiara from the dirt and placed it on her head.
She’d expected that his energy would feel more settled but he still seemed restless and angry. “Are you well, love?”
Xander frowned. “Did you not enjoy yourself?”
Cecilia’s legs were still shaky as she slid her arm through his. “You know I did, but you were a bit more intense than usual.”
He cupped her cheek. “Did I hurt you?”
She shook her head. “You just don’t seem yourself. Did Cato do something—”
“I don’t want to talk about that now,” Xander snapped.
She winced and took a step away from him.
Xander rubbed a hand over his face and reached for her. “It wasn’t pleasant but it’s over now and all I want is to take you home so you can make me forget.”
Guilt bloomed like weeds in Cecilia’s heart. She’d taken too long to break him free from Cato and it was clear with the anger and fear swirling around him that the damage had been done. “Of course. Whatever you need.”
The cold breeze ruffled her dress as they walked back to the cottage. Something was clearly off, but forcing both of them to relive whatever horrors Cato had inflicted on Xander wouldn’t make either of them feel better.
All she wanted was to take away his pain the way he’d been doing for her the past few weeks.
Inside the cottage, she lit candles with her fire magic. Moonlight slashed across the bed, still crumpled from her restless sleep the night before.
Xander sat down on the edge of the mattress and blew out a heavy sigh.
Cecilia paced around the kitchen. “Can I get you tea? Or I have some leftover lemon cakes or—”
“Love, don’t fuss over me. Come sit.”
She crossed the room and Xander pulled her into his lap. The bruise on his face was dark and mottled in the firelight. She placed a hand over it and he cupped her palm as she healed him.
She was trembling by the time she finished, her mind full of questions she was terrified to ask. “Is there more to heal?”
He was trying so hard to be strong, but his eyes were glassy as she cradled his face. “Not yet. Let’s not go there yet. Just let me hold you.” He buried his face in her neck.
Cecilia stroked his hair. “I’m here. You’re safe. I won’t let him hurt you again.”
Xander let out something between a sob and a laugh as she held him. “Gods, I need you.” He kissed her neck and up her jaw before meeting her lips. “You don’t know how much I need you.” He pulled back and his gaze was full of anguish.
Grief and fear swirled around him in a torrent and she wanted to take it all away and make him feel anything else. Something was wrong. She could not put her finger on what it was but there was a roughness in his touch and an intensity in his gaze that seemed sharper, angrier than ever before. Although she wasn’t afraid of him, she was afraid for him and any wounds she could not see. She wanted to ask what he had gone through, but she trusted him to open up when he felt comfortable, the way he always had with her.
“Will you show me your memory of our wedding?” Xander asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
She opened her mouth to ask why and then thought better of it. He’d obviously been through something awful and she was too relieved to have a way to help him. She held her palm against his neck and pulled up the memory.
They watched Cecilia getting ready, her tears over Xander’s thoughtful gifts, walking down the aisle toward him, and the rush of joy and love she’d felt during their vows.
When it was over, he blinked up at her, looking puzzled.
“What?” she asked, reaching up to remove her tiara.
Xander stopped her. “Later. I just want to be close to you.”
“Anything you need.” She would do anything to take away his pain, to assure him there was no darkness in him she couldn’t love and accept, the way he always had for her.
“I need you in that tiara,” he said, lips skimming her ear. “In just that tiara.”
She shivered as he unbuttoned her dress and set her on her feet. Silk slid over her hips, pooling on the floor. She pulled off his shirt and boots and he slid off his pants. The knot in her throat unwound when she found no more bruises or wounds on his body.
He only gave her a moment to look before yanking her into his lap. She felt completely ridiculous in the tiara but he clearly loved it.
Lust poured out of him as he reclined, his hands gripping her hips. “Gods, this is what fantasies are made of.”
Despite the fact that they’d been using their intense physical connection to soothe each other for weeks, something rang false in it now. There was a hunger in Xander’s eyes, a desperate clutching in his touch that filled her with as much dread as desire. Something was not right with him.
“Xander—”
“Please, Cece.”
And that was all he needed to say. Loving him was a fever that never quite broke. She’d give him anything he wanted.
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17
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XANDER
Xander was wide awake when the faint sound of fishermen’s bells began ringing on the Olney City docks. He’d already watched the sun rise, the light in the cottage turning from lilac to pink to bright gold. He used to wish he had paint so he could capture the view from the cottage windows in the mornings while Cece slept. Now he just wished he could remember that version of himself.
He brushed Cece’s hair from her forehead. She slept peacefully with her cheek pressed over his heart, her body half on top of him like she was afraid he’d disappear if she didn’t pin him down. Truthfully, part of him was already gone.
His mind churned, calling up old memories he knew Cato had somehow altered. He could not find their edges, or read what rang false in them. He only knew he’d been robbed of all his joy and instead an undercurrent of bitterness laced every moment with his wife.
He watched her version of their wedding, kept turning it over in his mind, watching it and then recalling his own memory. While he knew that hers must be the truth, he couldn’t reconcile it with his own. Her memory showed her face full of joy and wonder, but in his he only saw fear in her eyes and longing when she looked at Rainer.
Xander was used to bruises and the ache that came with a fight. He’d been trained to withhold information even when tortured. But Cato’s torture was beyond his wildest imaginings—the way he’d leeched Xander of his most precious memories, not by wiping them away but by warping them into nightmares. Everything that was precious to him was now a maddening tangle of truth and illusion that he could not pull apart.
He called up the night he’d found Cece bathing in the river. He could have sworn she’d been as caught up in their kiss as he had. But when he watched it now, he found hesitation in her touch and her eyes wide open while she kissed him back, like she was looking for someone else. Only the memories of his time spying on her in Olney remained untouched.
He’d wanted to ask Davide if he’d endured the same torturously slow poisoning of memories. Cato was careful to keep the Savero brothers apart, but his influence would explain why Xander’s brother had grown so distant and cruel over the past few years. It was a dangerous thing for the trickster god to hold power over the king of Argaria. Nothing good would come from it.
Xander studied Cato the best he could with what little time he had. The one benefit of being the younger prince was that he’d been trained to lead Argaria’s army and years of military tactics had taught him how to take on a more powerful and better-positioned enemy. The last eleven years honed his observation skills, so he studied his new adversary with the same single-minded focus he’d given Cece.
Watching her for a year made Xander wise. He knew exactly how to approach her and offer her what no one else had. He saw the way she banged her fists against the cage of propriety when she could, admired how she’d make herself less but with a fierce contempt in her eyes. At first he’d planned to use what he knew to manipulate her. At least that’s what he told himself. But that first night when she spoke to him in the garden, all his well-laid plans burnt to ashes.
He’d listened to countless hunters brag about how they’d tame her, but Xander had only ever wanted to see her wilder. Weak men liked to break women to prove they could. But Xander didn’t want a broken damsel. He wanted a feral goddess.
So he found the slightest rupture between Rainer and Cece and like a thumbnail in a hairline crack, he pried them apart.
But it wasn’t enough anymore. The fear in his heart was too wild. The sorrow grew tight, like a breath trapped in his chest, threatening to rupture. There were too many ways to lose her—too many threats with more compelling magic.
Rainer McKay could be the selfless good guy, but Xander would lie, cheat, and kill to protect his wife. He didn’t care if it made him a villain; he would suffer all of Cato’s twisted games if it meant he could have even the smallest chance of insulating her from the god’s wrath.
As if sensing his restlessness, Cece stirred. Her fingers slid up his side.
“What’s wrong?” she mumbled, her voice still heavy with sleep.
He brushed his thumb over her jaw.
She blinked up at him, a crease forming between her brows. “You’re worried.”
“Make me feel good,” he said, in the same way she’d said it to him for weeks. Xander finally understood what she meant. Make me feel connected and alive. Make me feel like I’m not about to be crushed under impossible grief. She’d meant help me not feel so broken by loss. Now he felt as confused and untethered as she had when she came into her powers.
And she did exactly what he asked without further question. She pressed her lips to his and all the tension in his body dissipated. He shifted her so she was straddling him and hiked her nightdress up around her hips. She shrugged out of the thin straps, the red silk sliding over her chest to pool around her waist.
“Gods, these are perfect,” he murmured, cupping her breast and brushing a thumb over her nipple. She shivered at his touch, pulling him into another kiss.
He would never get enough. She was petite but so strong. She could easily have pinned him to the bed, but she let him have her however he wanted. He loved the danger, but mostly he loved how she was so vulnerable with him.
He flipped her beneath him, sliding inside her in one hard thrust, her back bowing as she gasped his name, her eyes hooded with desire.
This was what he needed. Her hands on his skin, clutching desperately like she never wanted to let him go, her breath ragged in his ear murmuring, “I love you. I love you. I love you.”
She blinked at him, tears in her eyes. He saw so many questions in that look, but he didn’t let her get them out. He picked up his pace until she was clenching around him, her muffled shout buried in the crook of his neck as she fell apart and he followed.
