Текст книги "Eyes of devious burgundy"

Автор книги: Lacey Lehotzky

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Текущая страница: 24 (всего у книги 43 страниц)

29

Three. Fucking. Days.

I hadn’t slept since before that Fates damned bond snapped into place. My temper was at an all time high, and the slightest issue sent me smashing everything around me. I couldn’t even bring myself to feel bad about my behavior or the way I yelled at every officer or soldier in my path.

The mate mark was an insistent ring scorching my back and searing my heart. It wanted me to go to Gyor Palace, to my chambers, to claim my mate. Whenever I stepped west, it punished me with a forceful tug.

I was ready to fucking leave Uzhhorod just so I could have Assyria close to me and ease the relentless begging from this magic.

My cock strained against my pants as I stared up at the ceiling of my tent, borderline painful despite how many fucking times I’d fucked my hand.

I couldn’t even come, for Fates’ sake. Every time I tried, I ended up more frustrated than when I’d started. It was as if the bond were punishing me for trying to do anything other than sink into the wet, warm cunt of my mate.

It didn’t help that those bow-shaped lips entered my vision every time I closed my eyes. The drawings Kiira made of her were nothing compared to the real thing. Assyria was the type of female I could crave. Her fire, her sharp wit, her beauty. All of it could easily become an addiction, a distraction, when everything was at risk and one wrong move would send everything I’d worked for crumbling to ashes.

With a string of curses, I threw the sheet off of me and stalked to my dressing table, snapping armor into place and relishing the pain from the force of the motions. Anything to calm the disquiet in my mind. Grem and Zeec were on their feet and wagging their tails by the time I finished. It was still early, and I had time to sneak away before any planning sessions.

I am simply going to Gyor to see Xannirin, and hopefully make this bond chill the fuck out.

My hounds followed me into the breaking dawn, racing alongside my black stallion as we entered the city gates and wound our way through the streets to the palace. With each step closer, the bond eased, and I cursed it too, for rewarding this behavior.

It was early enough when I arrived that Xannirin was still sleeping. I knew better than to think he hadn’t gone to bed hours before. Kicking myself, I strode from his study toward our wing of the palace.

I am going to wake him up, not go into my chambers.

The sentries noted my approach, offering me a salute and stepping aside. I knew from their daily reports that Assyria hadn’t left the wing and spent the majority of her time with Kiira in the garden. Ignoring them, I turned right and toward the doors to Xannirin’s rooms. The bond burned my back, locking my spine from the pain. Gritting my teeth, I breathed through it. Assyria was so close, I could feel her just on the other side of these walls, and it knew that too.

“I am not going to see her,” I growled, as if the bond were a living being that could hear the fury dripping from my tone and bow to it.

It did no such thing.

In fact, it punished me again for entering my cousin’s sitting chamber. “Fucking Reaper,” I muttered, finding it in disarray with a trail of clothing leading to my cousins bed. In it, the Kral of the Demons slumbered, fully nude, with a female on either side of him.

“Assyria better not have witnessed any of this,” I barked, lack of sleep, the bond, my temper all melding into one and becoming a projectile to fling at the nearest target.

With a start, Xannirin woke, rubbing his bleary eyes. He looked around, as if he were trying to uncover why I was so angry. Then, he nudged each of the premier fallen, rousing them. “Get out,” he instructed.

With a glance at me, one yawned, then rolled out of the bed, giving me a wide berth as she went in search of her clothes. The second scurried away faster, keeping her head down the entire time. Tingling heat pierced every fiber of my being while I waited for the telltale click of the outer door closing behind them. I was so, so close to losing the last shred of sanity I possessed.

A smile spread across Xannirin’s face. “She participated.”

With a snarl, I leaped on him, pinning his throat beneath my massive, tattooed hand. The fucker only laughed, clutching his abdomen and trying to catch his breath. “That was too good of an opportunity to pass up,” he wheezed, and I shoved off of him.

Crossing my arms, I waited for him to put some damn clothes on. “Why did you come, Rokath? I wasn’t expecting you for another day at least.”

“Because,” I started, then realized I had no excuse, no news to offer him.

“That’s what I thought,” Xannirin teased, buttoning up a navy tunic.

A growl rumbled in my chest, and I spun on my heel, back to the sitting chamber. I threw myself on a chair, then shoved my head between my hands, rubbing my jaw furiously. Xannirin padded toward me and sat opposite, crossing one ankle over his knee. He rested his head on his closed fist and watched me unravel with a fucking smile on his face.

“I am so glad you find this amusing, cousin,” I snarled.

“Somehow it is simultaneously amusing and concerning. It would be a lot funnier if we weren’t at war,” he replied, not dropping his grin.

“I hate this. Hate her,” I snipped, collapsing back and pressing the heels of my palms into my eyes. “I can’t fucking sleep. I need to fucking sleep.”

“Do you need something strong from the healers to help?” Xannirin asked, his tone softening.

I didn’t need his fucking pity. Glaring at him, I said, “Yes, but only for today.”

He knew, as much as I did, that once I started taking sleeping droughts regularly, I wouldn’t stop. Insomnia had plagued me for centuries, and I managed it well enough—most of the time. I’d started them after the incident with Thast, and it took decades for me to admit I needed to kick them. What a nightmare that had been—and one I didn’t want to suffer through again.

“I’ll send for one now. You can sleep in my bed for a few hours if you want,” Xannirin offered.

Shoulders finally relaxing, I nodded. My cousin hurried to speak with the guards stationed outside his rooms while I sat, staring at nothing, fatigue pulling at everything the bond wasn’t. He returned a few minutes later with the bitter potion. “It’s a half dose, so you’ll only get a few hours.”

I’d take what I could get. I snatched the glass and threw it back. The foul taste coated my tongue despite my best efforts, and I coughed. Xannirin fetched me some water, and I gulped it, trying to cleanse my mouth. That, at least, was an incentive not to get hooked on them again.

“Better head in there before it kicks in. I can’t carry you, you muscled ass,” Xannirin quipped, shooing me with his hands.

Grumbling, I rose, drowsiness already clawing at me. At least the potion worked quickly.

Xannirin’s bed was still warm when I fell into it after fumbling off my armor. I tried my best to leave it in a neat pile. Mind slowing, the chaotic thoughts that had kept me awake night after night drifted away. Where the bond had burned into me, only soothing caresses remained.

Finally, fucking finally, I was escaping its madness. I blinked into the pillow before allowing my eyes to drift closed. With a heavy exhale, sleep swept me off to a palace of oblivion, where the pressure of protecting the Demons, protecting my mate, no longer attempted to drown me.

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30

Half on my stomach, half on my side, I watched the first rays of sun rise over the mountains in the distance. Rokath’s bed was the most comfortable one I’d ever slept in, and the squishy pillow beneath my face was borderline holy. Unfortunately, it still smelled like him—fire and pepper with a hint of his dogs.

Nearly a week had passed since Rokath dumped me here with a promise to return when it was time to depart. Which left me with far too many hours alone, with only my thoughts to keep me company. Much like my life in Stryi. Without meaning to, I’d slipped back into old habits, my mind digging in on the worst memories. Despite the light blanket covering me, heaviness pressed me down into the mattress, the weight from grief so large and heavy I wanted it to crush me.

No one wanted me.

I was trapped again. I lost someone I loved again. If this cycle were doomed to repeat itself with a mate, then what was the point in living?

If Rokath weren’t standing between the Angels and the slaughter of all the Demons, I’d fill the massive tub in his bathing chamber and let that rock sit on my chest until my spirit left this world in search of another, better one.

But, I’d slipped away before, with the help of my magic, and who was to say I couldn’t again? It was risky, yes, but I was so much more powerful now than I was when I left Stryi. I knew—somewhat—how to fight, how to wield a sword, how to use my magic. Masking my mate mark was entirely possible. No one would ever know who I was or where I came from. Like a wraith, I’d drift through the small towns along the coast, picking up odd jobs and changing my appearance regularly to escape notice and dodge Rokath should he attempt to seek me out.

It was freedom, at least in its own way. The bond would surely punish me for the distance between Rokath and me, and yet, I could learn to live with it, as I had learned to live with so many other aspects of my life. The alternative was learning to live with Rokath.

A scoff slipped out of me at the thought.

More plotting for my eventual freedom wound its way through my mind. I’d have to wait until Rokath was thoroughly distracted. I wasn’t privy to his plans, though some of his thoughts did slip through as he spoke with his officers the previous few days. Surely, an opportunity would present itself, especially among hundreds of thousands of males. I’d call upon my magic and disappear into the crowd, never to be seen again.

Right on cue, the bond stabbed into me, yanking a yelp from my throat as I jerked off the bed. Huffing out a frustrated breath, I decided that there was no use wallowing in bed. I could at least nourish my soul in the garden.

From a pile in a chair, I selected a slate gray dress and donned it. The sleeves were tight around my wrists but billowed toward the shoulder, and the neckline cut deep before cinching around my waist. The skirt swished around my ankles as I entered the sitting chamber and found Kiira already there with food.

Again, she was veilless.

“Good morning, Assyria,” she cooed, sipping from a delicate cup.

“Good morning, Kiira,” I said warmly.

Steam wafted from a second cup. A plate piled with a rainbow of fresh cut fruit and hearty oats waited beside it. I settled across from Kiira and offered her a soft smile. She’d shirked her duties to keep me company, and as the days passed, I’d grown to like her more and more.

The bond flared again, and I gritted my teeth. I’d almost emptied the bottle of spicy alcohol I’d found just trying to numb the sensation so I could get some fucking sleep.

“The bond?” Kiira asked, drawing my attention back to her.

“Mhmm,” I managed to get out, sipping from the pium tea. Its fresh flavor swept over my tongue, chasing away the fuzziness left by the alcohol.

She snorted and shook her head. “Rokath is a stubborn male. He’s likely staying away out of pure spite to it.”

“I hope he continues to,” I groused, reaching for a fluffy piece of bread and piling fruit on it. Flavor exploded on my tongue as I bit into it.

Changing the subject, Kiira said, “There is a ball tonight to celebrate the army’s departure.”

“Oh?” I replied, chewing slowly.

“I think you should join us. Discreetly of course,” she added in a rush.

I swallowed around the dryness in my mouth. “And what does Rokath think? Will he be in attendance?”

“I haven’t asked Rokath, and yes he will be in attendance,” Kiira replied, sipping again from her drink. The way her mouth curled at the corners made me think she wasn’t planning on asking him either.

I liked her rebellious streak. It mirrored my own. Over the past few days, I’d grown to like Kiira tremendously, especially since we shared many similar traits. And attending the ball, without Rokath’s permission, was the perfect ‘fuck you’ that I would be foolish to pass up.

“But I have nothing to wear,” I said with a feigned sigh. Kiira had brought me endless piles of clothes and she’d dismissed me when I inquired about the cost of all of them. She offered an explanation along the lines of, if I were to be Rokath’s mate, even if no one knew, I should make full use of all the perks that came with it.

Apparently, Rokath was quite wealthy, and Kiira had no issue purchasing whatever I wanted with his gold. I might have gotten a little excessive with some jewelry when I found that out. Yet none of it could replace my mother’s ring, which was probably lost forever now.

She flicked her hand as if she were flinging my excuse into oblivion. “I will loan you a dress of mine. You can appear with me as a priestess. Use your magic for a little while and pretend to be someone else for the evening.”

A devious grin pulled up the corners of my mouth. Rokath would be there, and that was one of his requirements for me going out. So technically, I wasn’t breaking any of his rules. Though I’d told him I didn’t want to pretend to be someone else again, the temptation to defy him in whatever way I could was too great to stick to that threat. “Okay,” I agreed, biting my lip to hide the extent of my excitement.

Kiira beamed. “Excellent. Unfortunately today I must attend to a few things at Varbad, so I can’t keep you company, but I will return with a dress for you this evening before the ball.”

Draining the last of her tea, she rose.

“Thank you, Kiira,” I said, grabbing her hand and squeezing. I hoped she could hear the sincerity in my tone or read it across my face. A reprieve from this wing of the palace would be incredible. I was starting to lose my mind, locked away in here like I had been on Vagach’s estate in Stryi.

And defying Rokath was a treat too good to ignore. He didn’t get to control my life. At least by attending the ball, I would show him I still had autonomy.

“Sometimes, forgiveness is better than permission,” she giggled, squeezing back.

Truer words had never been spoken.

With that, she dropped my hand and swept away, leaving me to entertain myself for the day. Xannirin had been rising earlier the past few days, but it still wasn’t late enough for me to slip through his sitting chamber and out into his garden. I finished breakfast quickly, then decided to luxuriate in the bath for a while.

The bathing chamber echoed as I entered it, filling with even more sound once the water started splashing against the stone tub. A mirror lined one wall, above a row of cabinets where I had found the alcohol and where the soaps and bath sheets were stored. I grabbed an array of sweet smelling ones, again courtesy of Kiira, and piled them beside the sunken tub. Soft sunrays spilled in from above, bathing the chamber in natural light.

It truly was peaceful.

Once the water was warm, I slipped out of my dress and into the heat. Groaning, I relaxed into it, my aching lower back easing. The mark between my shoulder blades seared against the cool stone as I reclined. Trying my best to ignore it, I swirled the bubbles, watching them dance and sparkle as the sun caressed them.

Anger yanked on the bond, and gritted my teeth again, trying my best to block out Rokath. If I didn’t constantly keep a barrier around my mind, our every thought and emotion was shared, and it had gotten tiresome days ago.

Kiira wasn’t joking when she said Rokath was stubborn and had a temper. I’d felt it more often than not since the bond snapped into place. As I resettled, bubbles brushed against my nipples, and my core clenched.

Fuck, I was so aroused by the slightest touch. I craved sex like I never had before, and despite the sharp pain that accompanied it, my mind returned over and over to the moments of intimacy I’d shared with Izgath. The feel of his hands, his mouth, on me. The explosions of pleasure he’d delivered. The way he whispered my name, quiet enough only I could hear, could be reminded of who I was for a moment.

The wetness that seeped from between my thighs was hard to ignore.

Maybe I can ease some of this myself.

Slipping a hand beneath the water, I trailed the tips of my fingers lightly over my stomach and down to the apex of my thighs. The bundle of nerves at the top of it was swollen and aching, and a few light circles there tore a moan from my lips.

It wasn’t enough.

Lower I drifted, until my fingers brushed against my folds. Like Izgath had done, I slipped a finger inside myself and pressed the heel of my palm into my clit. Tension coiled in my center like a snake ready to strike, and I pumped my finger for a moment before adding another.

I need more.

Water sloshed as I rode my hand, chasing a release from this ache between my thighs. Arousal dripped out of me as I continued to rock. Curling my fingers, I brushed against the spongy spot on my inner walls. Another moan echoed around the bathing chamber.

I panted, fingers moving faster, palm pressing harder, pleasure ratcheting higher.

So, so close to the edge.

Just when I thought the tension was about to snap, all of it swept away, leaving me breathless and wanting. “No,” I cursed, moving my fingers again. But the pleasure was out of reach, locked behind a glass wall I couldn’t shatter. My core ached, begging me for something longer, something thicker, than my fingers.

I scanned the chamber in desperation, looking for something, anything, to help.

A laugh echoed in my mind. “Can’t come, little imposter?”

“Get the fuck out of my head.”

“I hate to admit I enjoy the taste of your desperation.”

“I hate you.”

“The feeling is mutual.”

“If I can’t come, then you can’t either, right?”

Silence.

“Right?”

More silence.

“You’re doing this to me, aren’t you? It’s your fault I can’t come.”

Again, silence.

Why was it that he was allowed to disappear from my mind whenever he pleased, but he always showed up unbidden when I least wanted him?

“My name is Rokath and I’ve got Keleti’s biggest dick. I swing it around just like I swing my sword. Oh wait, I’m actually projecting all this confidence to make up for my invisible penis. I’ve never pleasured a female in my life because I’m too small to fit inside and too busy being the savior of the Demons to care anyway.”

Was it childish to goad him like this? Absolutely. Was I going to continue doing it anyway? Also absolutely.

“I tattooed my entire body to look extra scary. I have giant muscles so no one knows how weak I am on the inside.” As the image of his broad, brooding frame entered my mind, my thighs clenched. He exuded masculine strength from his pores, and his deadly allure was hard to deny. I did anyway and continued my taunt. “I’m Rokath, and despite my gruff exterior, I’m just a scared little female, ready to piss my pants at the sight of an Angel.”

“That’s enough.” The words sliced through like a sharp blade, but I wasn’t in his army, and he didn’t get to order me around.

“Rapp is my best friend but the real secret is we’ve been more than friends for centuries. That’s why I’m blocking Assyria’s orgasm. Because I can’t get one from my friend right now since I’m too busy making plans. Always too busy for–”

“Say one more word and I will ride to Gyor and spank you hard enough that you won’t sit for a week. Then, I’ll force you to ride in front of me, in the uncomfortable part of the saddle, while we return to camp, where I’ll do it again in front of two hundred thousand soldiers,” he growled into my mind, a heady mix of violence and wanton promise tumbling in his tone.

Silence. This time, on my end.

Fuck Rokath. I’d show up to the ball later with my middle finger flying in his direction, dancing with whomever I want disguised as a priestess, and he wouldn’t be able to say anything without giving us away.

A wicked thrill shattered through my veins as the images of him having to clamp down on his words filled my mind. Now, I was even more excited for my temporary escape. Keeping my mental barrier firmly in place, I finished the rest of my bath, planning on all the ways I was going to stick it to Rokath later that evening.

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