I awoke sometime later to the feel of Ash’s body through the linen shirt I’d borrowed after he’d patiently undone every single tiny button on the coronation gown.
The garment was no barrier against the hard, icy-hot press of his body, nor had it stayed in place as I slept, riding up to my hips. I knew this because absolutely nothing separated his rigid cock from the curve of my ass.
I blinked open sleepy eyes, unable to make out much in the darkened chamber. I had no idea how long we’d slept, but it didn’t feel like that much time had passed after we’d left the couch and gone to bed. Together.
To sleep.
I’d thought both of us were exhausted—physically and emotionally— from the coronation, the carriage ride, and what we’d discussed upon our return.
And I figured he was still asleep, his body’s response some sort of physical reaction and not necessarily a purposeful one. Which meant I also needed to go back to sleep and not dwell on the feel of him or think about that carriage ride. Which was easier said than done as I wiggled restlessly in his embrace—
The quick, deep rise of his chest against my back stilled me. Was he awake? I started to turn my head but stopped as his hips shifted behind mine. I bit my lip as his cock slipped over the curve of my ass, eliciting a sudden, sharp slice of pleasure.
My heart kicked up. “Ash?”
“You shouldn’t call me that,” he said, his voice rough in the darkness. Confusion rose. “I thought you wanted me to.”
“I do.” A pause. “But that may have been an unwise choice.” “Why?”
“I would think it’s obvious.” His breath stirred the hair on the top of my head. “Hearing you call me that makes me think of the other things occupying my mind for most of the night.”
Heat slipped through my veins as sleepiness vanished. “The one in first place?”
“Especially that.”
“Do you want to hear me call your name when I come again?” “What do you think?” His body hardened even more behind mine.
The flame of desire was shockingly quick to ignite. “You can have that,” I whispered, and he groaned as I rocked my ass against his cock. “You can take me if you want.”
“I want to, but I’m…”
“What?” I reached up, finding his cheek in the darkness. His skin was cooler…harder, almost like stone. My pulse skittered. “What’s wrong?”
He didn’t answer for a long moment. Then he finally did. “I’m hungry. And if I get inside you right now, I wouldn’t be able to stop myself. I shouldn’t even be in this bed right now. I was going to get up, but you feel… You’re so warm.”
I flashed cold and then hot. “Will taking my blood harm me? Because I’m so close to the Culling? Even if you took just enough to ease you?”
“It’s not that.” His voice had roughened. Thickened. “It wouldn’t hurt you for me to take a little.”
I forced a swallow. “Then feed.” He didn’t move.
And in the quiet, I remembered how he’d wanted to feed when we’d been on the floor of my chamber but hadn’t. I began to understand his reluctance. It went beyond what Kolis had made him do in the past. Feeding had become tied up with Veses, even if he hadn’t fed from her. And I knew he didn’t feel worthy of taking from me, no matter what I told him.
Only the gods knew what kind of emotions were associated with feeding, but I knew he needed to feed, and the only way I could help was to offer myself.
Drawing in a shallow breath, I arched my back, stretching my neck and exposing the length of my throat as my rear pressed against him.
His shudder rocked me.
I slid my palm down his cheek to his granite-hard jaw. Then I placed my hand on the bed before me. “I’m your Consort now, and I want to be of
aid to you,” I whispered, hopefully choosing the right words. “If you will allow it.”
Ash went silent and still behind me. I didn’t feel his chest move, and a deep sorrow rose. A pain that was not for me but for him—
Then he moved in that fast way of his. I was suddenly on my belly, my cheek on his forearm, and then he struck.
His fangs pierced my flesh with shocking speed. The burst of sharp, burning pain left me momentarily stunned, but it was brief. A heartbeat, maybe two passed as he closed his mouth over the wound and drew my blood into him. The pain became raw, nerve-stretching pleasure.
Ash drank.
He drank deep as his fingers dug into the flesh of my hip, and mine curled into the soft sheet beneath me. His mouth moved hungrily against my throat as the heat spread from his bite, flaming those earlier sparks into a wildfire. I wanted to move beneath him, to lift my hips to him, but I remembered what he’d told me. How she used to push the limits. So, I held myself still. I flamed. Burned. But I didn’t move. I let him have complete control. He needed that more than I needed him to seize it.
And he did.
Ash swallowed as the weight of his body settled over mine, trapping me between the bed and him. A heady thrill joined the flush of desire as he lifted my ass and thrust into me. Hot, wet, and aching, I was more than ready to take him.
And I did.
He moved over me and in me, hard and fast. There was no chance of catching his rhythm or following it. He set the pace, and he didn’t slow, not even when I came apart, calling out his name so he could hear it. Feel it. He still didn’t stop, his hips pounding into me as he took and took, and I loved it—the wildness of him in control. The drag and pull of his cock, of his mouth. And when he came, I whispered his name over and over, and it was a brief forever before I felt the slide of his tongue against my throat and his hips slowed. I wasn’t sure how long we stayed that way, with him inside me, and his cheek pressed to my shoulder. All I knew was that I wanted to stay there, and I immediately missed the feel of him as he eased onto his side, tugging me so I was once more nestled against his chest.
“You okay?” he asked.
“Yes.” I cleared my throat as my heart rate finally began to slow. “You?”
His hand slid across my belly to my hip. His warm hand. “I wish…” Voice thickening, he trailed off into the darkness, never finishing what he’d been about to say.
Telling me what he wished for.
 |
Ash and I shadowstepped into Massene, a village not too far from the capital of Irelone, the following afternoon.
We arrived in a forest on the outskirts of Cauldra Manor in a blink of an eye. Maybe two. It had felt like the last time, but a strange nervousness invaded my system, making me jittery.
“That was quick,” I whispered. “It was.” His gaze searched mine.
“I’m guessing it wasn’t supposed to feel that quick to me,” I surmised. Ash was still holding me tightly, my feet several inches off the ground,
chest to chest, heart to heart. His was beating faster than mine. “We traveled even farther than the last time. And between realms. It should’ve knocked you out.”
“The embers,” I said, sighing. “I know. They’re getting stronger.”
Lowering me to the ground, he drew his hand up the length of my braid. “They’ll be out of you soon.”
Hopefully, I thought, but I didn’t say that. I didn’t want to give life to the possibility that we wouldn’t find Delfai or that he wouldn’t be able to help us. “So, what are we going to do? Walk straight up to the manor’s entrance and demand to be taken to the Princess?”
“Sounds like a good enough plan to me.” I raised a brow. “Really?”
“Do you think they will refuse a Primal’s request?” Ash gave my braid a gentle tug.
My forehead creased. “You’re going to reveal who you are?” “It makes things a hell of a lot easier, doesn’t it?”
“It does.”
A grin appeared, beating back the shadows that had gathered under his eyes, and I felt the curve of his lips tug at my heart. “Plus, there’s some level of amusement to be had when mortals realize they’re in the presence of a Primal.”
Some of the anxiousness eased as I laughed. “I bet it will involve a lot of screaming and yelling.”
“And praying.”
“This should be entertaining.” I stepped back.
Ash’s hand slid to mine, stopping me. The feel of his skin being warm once more sent a pleasant thrill through me. “It’s going to be okay, Sera.”
My breath caught. “Am I projecting again?”
“You were.” The eather had calmed in his eyes. “What…what does anxiety taste like?” I asked.
“Like too-heavy cream.” He swept his thumb over the top of my hand. “What does it feel like to you?”
Pressing my lips together, I thought about how to explain it. “Like it tastes to you. Like something…too thick to swallow. Suffocating.” Uncomfortable, I looked down at our entwined fingers. The golden imprint along the top of his hand shimmered in the soft, dappled sunlight. I shook my head as we stood in silence. “It’s this…constant feeling that something bad is about to go down, even when nothing is happening. And when there’s a chance that things can go bad? It becomes the only thing that can happen.” My throat thickened. “I know that probably makes no sense, but it’s like a crushing weight on your chest, and it’s always there, even when you get used to it and don’t really feel it. It’s still there, just waiting. And I…I don’t know. That’s how it feels.”
“I get it,” he said, his throat working on a swallow. “I don’t know how it feels firsthand, but I understand what you’re saying.” His thumb kept moving over the top of my hand, tracing the lines of the imprint. “I wish I could do something to change how it feels for you.”
The swift, swelling motion in my chest threatened to lift me to the needled branches. My cheeks warmed, and I wasn’t sure if it was from what I’d shared or his words. His understanding. His desire to make it better. I wasn’t entirely embarrassed by what I’d shared. I just wasn’t used to talking about it. But it felt…good to do so. Almost like a chunk of the weight upon my chest had eased. I imagined that was a little like how he’d felt after speaking about Veses.
“I do think it will be okay,” he continued quietly, his gaze catching and holding mine. “We’ll find out how to remove the embers, and we’ll be successful. I believe this.”
I inhaled sharply, wanting to believe that, too, but the dread was there. It had been there when I awoke and was now nestled deep, along with the embers. For once, I didn’t think it had anything to do with the anxiety, but I nodded. “I guess it’s time to go scare some people.”
He chuckled roughly. “I think so, too.”
Fallen needles crunched under our feet as we started toward Cauldra Manor—it was the only sound to be heard. Tipping my head back, I searched the heavy branches for birds, but they remained quiet and hidden. There were no signs of life. No wind. The Pinelands were still, holding their breath. It was like nature recognized that a Primal of Death walked the realm and had gone quiet, wary, and watchful as we left the forest.
Sunlight bathed the rocky hill that Cauldra sat upon, reflecting off the bronze armor of the guards who patrolled the land around the manor. Unlike Wayfair, no inner walls separated the royal estate from the farmlands and those who tended the swaying cornstalks and other crops. As we climbed the hill, as yet unnoticed, I looked down at the sweeping valleys dotted with modest, stone homes and the fields full of those working at the end of harvest. Irelone was a part of a vital shipping chain with its capital serving as the port, but my mother and King Ernald had also sought a union with Irelone for the lands full of rich soil, untouched by the Rot.
Cauldra Manor came into view, the gently swaying ivy clinging to the ivory stone stilling as we crested the top of the hill. From the nearby stables, horses whinnied nervously.
“Halt!” a guard near an open set of doors shouted, striding forward, steel sword drawn. Several guards at the stables turned, and I imagined it wasn’t often they came across people strolling out of the Pinelands. “Announce yourselves!”
I glanced at Ash.
One side of his lips curved up as he continued several more steps, something the guards coming from the stables didn’t appreciate. They, too, drew their swords. “I am the Asher, the One who is Blessed. The Guardian of Souls,” Ash said, and I swore even the clouds above stopped moving. “The Primal God of Common Men and Endings, the ruler of the Shadowlands. I am Nyktos, the Primal of Death, and this is my Consort.”
Silence.
About half a dozen guards stared in utter silence.
Then the one who’d spoken first laughed. “And I’m the fucking King of Irelone,” he scoffed, his declaration met with raucous laughter.
“Well,” I said under my breath. The guards were too far away to notice anything off about his eyes. “That didn’t go as expected.”
Ash smirked as he turned his attention on the guards. The embers in my chest suddenly vibrated, responding to the charge of power hitting the air around us.
Behind us, a rush of birds took flight from the pines in a flurry of wings. They flew over in a wave of black, startling the guards. Tiny bumps spread across my skin as I glanced at the Primal. In the distance, from the valley below, dogs howled, and the horses’ whinnying increased.
Ash’s chin dipped as his skin thinned. Shadows blossomed beneath its surface, spreading and churning as eather-laced midnight poured out into the space around him, billowing above the grass.
The air near his shoulders thickened and sparked. A rush of wind tossed tendrils of hair across my face as the faint outline of wings arced high above us. “Then you must be the King of Irelone,” Ash said, eyes filling with churning wisps of eather. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
The guard had gone slack-jawed and as pale as a corpse. I would’ve laughed, except he and the others looked close to passing out. Several of them stepped back. None ran, though. Or screamed.
They dropped to their knees like dominoes. Swords clattered off rock and earth as heads bowed, and they pressed shaking hands to the ground and against their chests.
“I’m sorry, Your Highness.” One spoke above the murmurs of…
prayers. “We didn’t know. Please—”
“There is nothing to apologize for,” Ash interrupted. The charge of energy faded from the air as the rippling shadows vanished around us. The howling stopped. Horses quieted. Ash’s grin had spread to a smile. “Rise.”
The guards clumsily stood, eyes wide with fear and bodies trembling. I couldn’t blame those whose lips still moved in silent prayers, but it struck me—what had been said about how mortals felt when near Kolis, the true Primal of Death. How they reacted to him.
How Sotoria had reacted to him.
It was the same as those who stood before Ash now—those who would have likely wept with joyous tears if it had been Kolis who’d walked out of the Pinelands. They would have rushed to greet him and worship at his feet. They’d welcome a monster who presented himself as a savior, all because they believed him to be the Primal of Life.
A label. A title. A belief regarding what was good and what was bad changed everything. And it shouldn’t be that way.
“We’re here to speak with Princess Kayleigh.” I spoke then, drawing the guards’ stares. I had no idea what they thought when they looked upon me, if they believed me to be a god or not. “Is she in residence?”
“S-she is,” a guard said. “She a-always is. Prefers t-the manor over Castle Redrock.”
“Good.” Ash smiled, and I wasn’t sure if that put any of the guards at ease. “Will one of you take us to her?”
 |
Ash displayed a new Primal power I hadn’t known him to be capable of.
Coin didn’t fall from trees as I’d once heard King Ernald tell Tavius, but coin did spring forth from the soil beneath Ash’s boots as we followed a stunned guard into the manor. He left behind enough riches for the guards to feed themselves and their families for several years.
He said nothing as I glanced at him questioningly, but I knew he’d done it to make amends for the fright he’d given them.
Just as he had done for the guard who led us past the banners of green and yellow bearing the emblem of a ship that adorned the hall of Cauldra Manor. The pouch at the guard’s hip had swollen with the quiet jingle of coins the man had remained unaware of. He stopped in front of a small receiving chamber.
Inside the sunlit-drenched space, the Princess sat on a couch, her legs tucked beneath the hem of a lilac day gown. She was reading from a book in her lap as she idly ran her hand down the back of a black and white cat curled up beside her, Kayleigh’s mass of brown hair piled into a knot atop her bowed head.
The cat noticed us first, lifting its furry head to give us a sleepy-eyed glare. The look gave the distinct impression that it was annoyed by our interruption.
The guard cleared his throat, bowing deeply. “Princess Kayleigh, you have visitors.”
Kayleigh gave a little jerk at the sound of his voice, her head snapping up. The vision I had seen of her in the Pools of Divanash had been accurate. She looked healthy. Happy. Nothing like the last time I’d seen her in person.
And she looked right at me. Surprise widened her eyes. “My gods, is that you, Seraphena?” she said, her chest rising sharply as she closed the book in her lap.
I nodded. “It is.”
“How did you…?” She trailed off as she glanced at Ash. Blood drained rapidly from her heart-shaped face. “My gods, you’re a…” She rose so quickly the book fell from her lap to flop against the thick carpet. The cat gave an irritated thump of his tail off the now-vacant cushion. She started to lower herself—
“That’s unnecessary.” Ash stopped her, much to my relief and her and the guard’s surprise. “You do not need to bow.”
Her forest green eyes were bright. “But—”
“It’s all right,” I jumped in. “He’s not the bow-to-me type of Primal.” “Well, sometimes I am,” he murmured.
I shot him a look as Kayleigh stared in confusion. “We need to speak with you.” I flicked a glance at the guard. “In private.”
She nodded, swallowing. “Thank you for bringing them here, Rolio.”
The guard hesitated, but the Princess gave him a steady smile and a quick nod. Rolio backed out of the chamber, giving us a wide berth. He didn’t wander far, though, instead moving only halfway down the hall. I liked that he was loyal despite his fear.
“Am I in trouble?” Kayleigh asked.
“What?” I focused on her. “No. Why would you think that?”
She didn’t look all that confident as she glanced at Ash. “You’re a…a Primal god. I can tell by your eyes.” She swallowed. “Only the Primals that I’ve seen have silver eyes.”
My brows lifted. “How many Primals have you seen?”
“Enough,” she said, then briefly closed her eyes. I really hoped Ash kept what Primal he was to himself. “I’m sorry. I meant no offense.”
“None taken, Princess,” Ash replied, watching her intently. I knew he was reading her. “There is no reason to fear us. We are not here to harm you.”
She nodded, but distrust settled in her features as unease blossomed in me. I thought about what Ash had warned was already beginning to happen in other kingdoms. “What has happened when Primals have come here?”
Her lips parted on a short breath as she looked at Ash. “I…I know they can take great offense when respect is not given to them.”
“Respect is earned, even for a Primal. And I have not yet done anything to warrant honor or disrespect.” His tone had gentled. “We’ve only come to speak with a man we believe you know. He could possibly be going by the name Delfai.”
Kayleigh stiffened. “The scholar?”
“Perhaps,” I said and gave her a quick description.
“Yes. That’s Delfai. He’s been here for a couple of years now. He’s been teaching me how to read the old language.” Kayleigh clasped her hands together as her gaze bounced between us. “Is he in trouble?”
“No,” I whispered, my heart twisting. What had she seen the other Primals do? “We just want to speak with him.”
She nodded. “I believe he’s in the library just down the hall.” A brief, fond smile appeared. “He likes to file the ledgers and journals the way he feels they should be found. Drives my father mad when he comes here.” Kayleigh’s laugh was nervous. “I’m sorry. I’m just so utterly confused. I haven’t seen you in years, Seraphena, and now I’m standing before a Primal who wishes me not to grovel at his feet—” She cut herself off again. “I’m sorry—”
“Again, no need to apologize,” Ash assured her. “Not when it is I who obviously needs to apologize for the behavior of those of my ilk.”
Kayleigh’s lips formed a perfect circle. “You are…” She cleared her throat. “May I ask which Court you rule?”
“Uhhh.” I drew out the word.
Ash inclined his head. “I am Nyktos.”
The Princess stared. I didn’t think she took a breath in the several moments of awkward silence that followed. “You’re the Primal of…”
“Death,” he finished for her.
She nodded slowly, blinking rapidly as her head cut toward me. “How are you—?”
“With him?” I jerked my chin at Ash, and his brows furrowed. “It’s a long story.”
Interest sparked. “I like stories.”
I grinned. “This may be one you’d be better off not knowing,” I said, worrying that my true mortal identity and new title as the Primal of Death’s Consort could cause her or others problems. “Are you able to take us to Delfai?”
“Of course.” She bent quickly, picking up the fallen book. The cat eyed her with impressive displeasure as she placed the book where she’d sat. She started forward, then stopped, staring up at me. “When I left Lasania, I never thought I would see you again.”
“I thought so, too,” I said.
She peeked at Ash. “I don’t think I thanked you for your…help.” “You didn’t need to.”
Her mouth opened and then closed. “We received word some time ago that Princess Ezmeria had taken the throne of Lasania, but there was no word on Prince Tavius’s fate.”
“The former Prince of Lasania is most definitely no longer a concern— to you or anyone,” Ash said, his voice dropping to a near growl. “He spends his eternity in the Abyss.”
I tried to stop my smile and failed, wondering if I would ever feel bad about the twisted burst of pleasure that accompanied thoughts of Tavius’s fate.
Probably not, especially when I saw the relief skate over Kayleigh’s features, relaxing the tension around her mouth and eyes. “Oh, my gods. I…I was too afraid to believe that was the case, but…” She laughed, pressing her hand to her chest. “Gods, I shouldn’t laugh. That makes me seem like a terrible person, but I haven’t…” She squeezed her eyes shut. “Our betrothal had all but ended, but not in the eyes of many. As long as there was a chance that I was still promised to him, I have been, well…” Her eyes glimmered with tears. “Stuck in this waiting period of him becoming betrothed to another or…”
“You’re not a terrible person. Tavius was a wretched excuse for a mortal,” I told her, wishing I’d known that Kayleigh’s life had been put on hold. I would’ve figured out a way to send word to her. “You should laugh and celebrate. You are no longer stuck.”
Her smile was shaky but tremendous as she looked at me, her glistening gaze tracking over my features before dropping to my right hand—to the golden imprint. “You were never the Queen’s handmaiden, were you?”
I sucked in a breath.
Princess Kayleigh glanced at Ash. “Was she?”
“No,” the Primal answered, the lines and planes of his face softening. “She was the one who should’ve been destined to rule Lasania.”
Ash’s proclamation ignited a flurry of emotions inside me, ones I would have to dwell upon later.
The Princess led us down the hall to a set of heavy wooden doors. It was clear that she wished to join us, but I coaxed her back to the receiving chamber. I had no idea how Delfai would respond to us.
Or how she would respond to knowing that she had a god cataloging her father’s library.
I nodded when Ash glanced at me. He then pushed open one of the doors, taking no more than a step before a voice spoke from the dimly lit cavern of a chamber in a rush of softly scented sandalwood.
“I’ve been waiting,” a man spoke. “For three long years.”
