Текст книги "Horns of Wicked Ebony"
Автор книги: Lacey Lehotzky
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Текущая страница: 36 (всего у книги 43 страниц)
She dropped the container in front of the hearth, spinning it in a steady circle so the heat of the flames licked against the edges. Without looking at me, she replied, “I’m not afraid. Just…I don’t know. What if we’ve already killed a hundred pairs like Banand and Araquiel before they ever knew the other existed?”
Her throat worked like she was raking it across the coals. “How can we continue down this path of complete extermination, knowing the bonds can cross races? Why do we have to slaughter an entire people because of their beliefs?”
“With the Angels, it’s always been kill or be killed.”
“But what if it doesn’t have to be anymore? The myth of us is spreading…and our campaign to make the Angels think one of their own is betraying them is too. We could do more to end the war than just killing.”
She wasn’t wrong, but the Angel’s beliefs were so entrenched, I wasn’t sure what she was suggesting would be at all possible.
“We tried diplomacy for a long time. So long as Koron Stadiel and Korona Iaoth sit atop the Angel’s throne, this is our only option.”
A wave of dejected sadness swept down our bond. She sighed, hefting the adhesive and returning it to us. The stench overpowered my nostrils immediately. “Then we will continue until they are dead.”
She settled on the floor, bracing her head on her folded hands. Slumped inward, she watched Rapp and I work with quiet intensity. Yet her mind was a riot of emotion, and her thoughts leaked down our bond. I wanted nothing more than to comfort her, to reassure her, that everything would be okay.
But I couldn’t promise that.
This was war.
So the three of us remained silent, save for coordinating the final pieces of Assyria’s throne, late into the night, when we gathered our gear and departed on our next mission.
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54
Achill crept into my awareness, and without thinking, I shifted closer to Rokath, seeking his warmth. Yet when I reached the spot he should have been, nothing brushed my fingers. Cracking open an eye, I realized his muscled form was missing from our bed. The barest hint of moonlight slipped through the curtain covering our window. I sat upright, a shiver wracking my frame as my skin was exposed to the cold air.
I glanced toward the bathing chamber door, finding it open and the room beyond empty.
Where has he gone?
Tapping into the magic of our bond, I sought him out. A faint thread tugged me upward, and I craned my neck, realizing he must have gone outside. I dressed, grabbing my gloves on the way out of the door. I closed it quietly behind me, not wanting to disturb the other officers in the hall. On silent feet, I made my way to the exterior stairs that led from this floor straight to the ground. The night guard nodded to me and opened the door to outside. Yet instead of taking them down, I called upon my wings and sailed higher.
Air froze in my lungs as I beheld my mate. The white of the stars and moon bathed him in a glow, sharply contrasted with the black of the night on his other side. His severe features were cast in haunting relief—the tear in his ear, the heavy set of his brow, the slight crook in his nose. Gingerly, I lowered myself to the roof beside him.
He didn’t look away from whatever held his attention in the distance.
“Can’t sleep?” I asked, banishing my wings. Pulling on my gloves, I settled beside him so our shoulders touched.
“Not tonight,” he murmured. “Not when I have so many questions and so few answers.”
“What’s bothering you?” I wrapped myself around his arm.
With a sigh, he leaned into me too. “Rapp, Kiira, Banand, Araquiel, Xannirin…”
“I see my name is absent from that list,” I teased, hoping to lighten his mood.
He merely grunted in response. “For once.”
“Rapp and Kiira will make it safely to their outpost. And she didn’t have another vision before they left, so that’s a good sign. Nor have we heard that she’s had another,” I reminded him. The mates that had been separated struggled, but they knew they served a higher cause. That didn’t stop my heart from aching for the female who sobbed in my arms after half a day with that third of our army gone.
When I’d offered to let her yell at some of the males who saw her as weak for doing so, she perked up. Warmth spread through my limbs at the memory. The priestesses-turned-warriors were vicious in their own right, and more than one had dressed down their male counterparts in a way that left me entirely impressed.
“I know,” he finally replied. “I’ve just never been good at drowning out the voices once they start screaming.”
“Is there anything I can do to help tonight?” All was still, and even the wind didn’t blow through the trees, relieving them of their powdery burdens.
“Just sit with me,” he said, an ache in his voice I wanted to grasp and soothe.
I scooted closer so more of my body pressed into his. Freeing his arm, he draped it around me instead and brushed his lips over my temple. I wrapped my arms around his waist, snuggling deeper into his warmth.
A small smile tugged at my lips. How odd it was to show each other such unrestrained affection when we’d been at each other’s throats over the smallest infraction during the summer.
A realization dawned on me then. “Is tonight the new year?”
“Aye,” Rokath confirmed. The moon hung fat and heavy in the sky, seeming so much closer with how high we were in the mountains that snatched for the stars like they were a delicious treat.
“Why aren’t we celebrating then?” I asked him.
“With everything that’s happened recently, I forgot until I looked at the clock when I couldn’t sleep,” he admitted.
“What did you do last year?” The new year was always a source of joy in the Demon Realm. In Stryi, the whole village took a week off of work, gathering in the square for revelry. Dancers, fire breathers, elaborate displays, and charms were abundant. It was one of the few times I left the estate while married to Vagach, simply because he headed many of the ceremonies we held during that time to venerate the Fates. Yet I’d always been kept away from the crowds, perched like an ornament far above them. Exactly how Vagach had liked me to be.
“We were trying to maintain what ground we could as the plague swept through,” Rokath deadpanned.
Guilt gnawed at my gut. Of course, they had been. I’d been grieving the loss of my family and hadn’t even left the manor, despite how Vagach had attempted to coerce me into attending. After I collapsed on the lawn, unable to carry myself forward, he’d sent me back inside.
“This year will be better,” I pronounced, hoping that the Fates would hear me and make it so.
“I already made my wish,” Rokath mumbled.
I craned my neck to look up at him, finding his burgundy eyes swirling with a mix of emotion. “Are you going to tell me what it was?”
“No,” he said, looking forward again. “You wouldn’t understand.”
I scoffed and squeezed his ribs as punishment. “Why tell me you made one then?”
“For that reaction right there.” He met my gaze once again. This time, his expression was full of smug amusement.
I rolled my eyes. “Well I haven’t chosen mine yet.”
Rokath released his hold on me. Spine protesting, I straightened. “Go ahead and do it now. Then we’ll tell each other.”
“Okay but no spying in my mind.” I wagged my finger at him, then rolled out my shoulders and faced the moon.
But as I sat there, sifting through all my desires, I found it difficult to discern which I wanted to come true the most.
The end of the war, yes, but what if wishing for that caused us to lose?
Continuing progress with solidifying the female’s place in the army? That seemed too weak even though it was a mighty goal.
That Rokath and I’s love would never end? Yet that was already true, simply because we were fated, woven, planned to be together for now and in all the lives to come.
There were a dozen things I could wish for others. But for the new year, we were supposed to be selfish. Supposed to set ourselves up for the next four seasons.
Glory wasn’t important. Infamy bloomed like a Bordova rose in the summer. But what did I crave in the quiet of the night? When I let myself believe anything was possible?
Freedom.
The word emerged like a fabled sea monster from the depths of the abyss. Yet it was what I’d always truly wanted. I had some now, far more than ever before. But I wasn’t rid of the shackles that held me back.
The trauma of my marriage to Vagach. The oppression of our society and how it had silenced me. The fear of my magic being discovered and what would happen to me once it was. More and more layers of all the ways I’d had to hide, had to survive, had to protect my heart from loss after loss.
Even now, I held back with many I wanted closer simply because I didn’t want that acute ache to tatter my soul even more. Death was the reality of war, after all.
Rokath had suffered too, but his was different than mine. He’s always been free. Powerful. Esteemed. Feared.
I stared at the heavens, tugging on the stars as if I could command the Fates to look down upon me. And then, I spoke to our deities.
“Weaver, Giver, Reaper, I wish for freedom to embrace my power without limits. To continue to find the strength to survive, even to thrive, as I claim the destiny woven for me. To not harden against the horrors to come, even though the losses will be difficult. May this year bring further healing, love, and the courage to reclaim everything that was taken from me.”
Closing my eyes, I allowed the feeling to fill me to the brim. When I was close to exploding with it, I let it go, sending it out into the world and hoping it would return to me.
“This was mine,” Rokath spoke into my mind, letting the memory of the moment flood me.
“Weaver, Giver, Reaper, give me the strength and wisdom to protect those I love. Ensure no further harm comes to the mate you blessed me with. Let victory and peace come to our realm at last.”
His emotions consumed me too—the vastness of his devotion, the terror of my potential absence, the craving for peace. I understood everything he desired. Because more than anything, I wanted him to live beyond the war too, so that we could carve a slice of serenity far away from conflict and strife.
I crawled into his lap, and he enveloped me. A spicy, masculine scent called me home. His muscles flexed as he dragged me closer, nearly robbing me of air. “You’re my reason for fighting, Assyria. You’re the reason I begged the Fates for the end.” He spoke the words like a haunted, desperate prayer.
“This will be our year.” I grabbed his forearms and squeezed, gently rocking in his hold.
He planted a kiss on the side of my neck. “Let’s go back to bed. I’m ready to sleep now.” His hot breath ghosted across my ear, and his hardness grew and dug into my backside.
“Only after you beg for my forgiveness for listening in on my thoughts when I told you not to,” I breathed, nails digging into his skin.
A soft laugh huffed against my shoulder. “That is not how this works.” In one smooth motion, Rokath lifted us off the ground and threw me over his shoulder.
A giggle escaped me as I smacked his back. “Put me down!”
“Never. I’ll never let you go, little imposter.” Wings sprouted, and with gentle ease he flew us to the base of the building. At the doors to the weapons storage, two soldiers jolted into pristine posture, startled by our sudden appearance.
“At ease,” Rokath told them. “And get lost.”
“Yes, sir,” they said, saluting us before racing away. I shot them a devious smile as he flung one of the doors open and then set me on my feet inside. With more force than necessary, he slammed it closed.
The barest of fires flickered in the hearth, but it was more than enough to witness the dark expression on my mate’s face. With a hungry, predatory gaze, he devoured every inch of me. I took a step back as he approached, kept going as his pace quickened. My knees buckled, and then I was sitting.
A glance behind me told me it was the chair Rokath had built for me.
Rokath braced his hands on the arms, towering over me with a wicked glint in his eye. “Once these clothes are off you, I’m going to start our new year off right. Between your thighs. On this throne. When the war is over, you will sit beside me and accept their surrender with the ultimate fuck you right in their faces.”
My breath hitched as my center wept.
Rokath’s bone chair, like mine, was meant to intimidate. Meant to break the Angels before they even knelt. But tonight, we’d imbue mine with a different kind of power.
“Now start unlacing that top so I can worship the damning body the Fates gave you.”
He shoved off, taking the heat of him away. Instead of obeying, I uttered two words that always yanked on his animalistic instincts.
“Make me.”
His nostrils flared, along with divine dark desire down our bond. Then, his lips curved into a sinful smirk. “Oh, little imposter, I will.”
Ice shattered through my veins as his magic swept out of him like an inferno, binding me to the throne of bones. He twisted his fingers, directing tendrils to tug at the laces while others slipped beneath my clothes and caressed my bare skin. Another wrapped around my throat, cutting off the tiniest sip of air.
Strands brushed against my core. A whimper escaped me at the kiss of them between my thighs.
“Do you want to bow to my will now?” he crooned, curling his fingers into his palm. His magic did the same against my center.
“Never,” I swore, knowing I was pushing his limits. But the fire that sparked inside me, filling my core to the brim, told me it was more than worth it. I loved nothing more than this battle with him.
He came closer, crouching so his knees were level with mine. I stared into those riotous burgundy eyes, the swirl of challenge and domination in them making me drip. “You said I should beg for your forgiveness for spying on you. I think you should beg for my forgiveness for disobeying a direct order.”
Planting a hand on either one of my legs, he spread them wider. His shadows pooled around my core, continuing to stroke there. The ache was madness, yet I could do nothing to stop it. He was giving me just enough to fan the flames of my desire without dousing them completely.
“And what order was that?” I panted.
“Removing your clothes.” His words were all raspy gravel. “Now beg and then do as you are told.”
I rolled my lips together, planning on a final protest, when his magic ceased moving altogether. “Please.” The word slipped out before I could stop it. He was far too skilled in melting me with his commands and caresses.
“Please, what?”
“Please forgive me for not listening the first time,” I whimpered, straining against his hold. The shadows shackling my hands loosened. I wasted no time grasping the edges of the laces they’d begun to undo. In moments, my jacket hung loose, revealing my bare breasts.
Rokath let out a low, masculine groan. “Didn’t dress fully, little imposter?”
“Around you, it’s nearly impossible to keep all my clothes on,” I quipped, lips curving into a smile.
More of his power drifted away, and he reached for my shoulders, sliding the fabric off me and tossing it to the side. Without waiting, he cupped them, then brought one of my hard nipples to his mouth. Sucking harshly, he tore a cry from my lips.
“Quietly, tonight. This moment is just for us, Assyria.”
“Yes,” I told him, gritting my teeth as he did the same on the other side. A low hiss swept through them instead, and a rumble of approval vibrated in his chest. While he worked over my breasts, I undid the laces at the top of my pants.
Barely releasing me, he lifted me off the seat and yanked them clean off my legs, leaving me completely naked. Kneeling between my thighs, he stared at my glistening center like it was a holy fountain.
“Always so fucking wet for me,” he ground out, hands moving to part my thighs. He dug into the muscles there, kneading and pulling a low groan from me. “Tell me, Assyria. What makes your pretty pussy weep the most?”
“When you say things like that,” I rasped as his face drifted closer. “When you use your shadows to bend me to your will.” His hot breath ghosted across my core before he planted a kiss so, so high on my inner thigh. “When we fight first. With words or physically.”
His tongue swept out along the seam of my leg, so close and so fucking far from where I wanted him to be. I removed my hands from the chair and dug my nails into the tattoos on the back of his scalp, trying to direct him to put his lips on me.
He resisted me, huffing a laugh against my center. “Your challenge gets me so fucking hard.” In one smooth motion, he rose, and my hands fell to the thick length of him straining against his pants. “Keep stroking me.”
I did, staring up at him as he worked over the buttons of his shirt and tossed it aside, revealing the torso sculpted from the craggy Skala Mountains. The muscles in his abdomen flexed, drawing my attention to the delicious V that pointed straight to where I touched him. His cock throbbed against my hand, and I reached for the ties of his pants, giving them a tug.
“Take out my cock, little imposter,” he murmured, his burgundy eyes igniting with dark hunger.
I didn’t hesitate to obey. When it sprang free, my mouth watered at the sight. His dick pulsed—glistening, flushed, swollen—with the promise of the pleasure it would deliver. I leaned back, easing my legs open and letting the firelight glint off of the slickness between them.
Rokath shucked off his boots, baring himself to me. Wrapping a strong hand around his thick cock, he stroked up and down, up and down, as he venerated the vision beneath him. I had to bite my lip to stifle a groan at the sight.
“So. Fucking. Gorgeous. I don’t even need you to touch yourself to ensure my dick will fit in that perfect cunt. You’re slick enough already.”
“Then get inside me,” I pleaded, the heat of his gaze more than enough to wind me tight enough to snap.
“Ask nicely,” he shot back, making my core clench.
Popping out my lower lip and batting my lashes, I did. “Please, master. I want you to fill me.”
“Fuck,” he groaned, his eyes closing. More arousal dripped from the crown. “You have no idea what that does to me.”
The primal desire sweeping down our bond afforded me a hint of understanding. That need expanded as he stepped closer. A log cracked and popped in the fire, but it didn’t shatter our moment. It was merely background noise, melting away with the rest of the world as he knelt and yanked me to the edge of the seat.
At this angle, his hardness was the perfect height to enter me.
“Eyes on me,” he commanded, and I dug my nails into his shoulders to steady myself as I held his gaze.
Then, he pushed inside me. Slowly. Excruciatingly. To the point I wasn’t above calling him master again simply so he’d give me all of his thick length.
“Rokath,” I breathed, his name like a plea and a prayer.
“Assyria,” he returned, his tone like honed worship. He reached up, brushing the back of his knuckles across my cheek. “My perfect fucking mate.”
He seated himself to the hilt, and my arms trembled from holding myself so still. One hand slid to my lower back, while the other went to the leather tying my braid. He tugged it, letting my dark hair cascade free with a few shakes of his fingers through it. “That’s better. I love seeing it unbound while I fuck you.”
The ends tickled my skin, eliciting a small gasp. Rokath moved again, dragging himself out to the tip. A shudder wracked my frame as he slid all the way in again. He repeated the motion, collapsing my entire world to the place where we joined, the slow glide of him inside me, and the savage devotion in his eyes.
“My protector,” I intoned as he withdrew.
“My Halálhívó,” I whimpered as he bottomed out.
“My mate,” I breathed as he arched my back, sinking even deeper inside me.
“Mine,” I whispered as I looped my arms behind his neck and dragged myself closer.
Our lips met in a passionate kiss, all tongue and slow movement, savoring each other like we had an eternity. Lost in the embrace like adventurers out at sea, his thrusts maintained a steady rhythm, rolling with the tide of our pleasure.
The way his arms tightened around me, holding me like I was a precious weapon, coupled with the utter adoration sweeping down our bond, had pleasure building to a pyre inside me. Arousal drenched my thighs, and my breath came in ragged, battling for space in the moments our lips didn’t join.
He broke our kiss and pressed his forehead to mine, forcing me to look deep into his eyes. “This year, you are all mine. You will belong to no one else. It is the first year of the rest of our lives.”
“Yes,” I agreed, arching into him, wanting to feel him against every nerve inside me. His cock throbbed, only serving to increase the tension coiling in my core. “You’ll finish this throne for me. We’ll win this war. Then, we’ll return to Stryi so you can show me exactly how no one else should ever have had me.”
A wicked groan reverberated against his ribs. “Nothing gets me harder than when you talk like that.”
To prove his point, he speared into me with breath-stealing force. I felt him along every inch of my center. “Except for maybe when you direct that fire my way.”
Gripping me to him, he stood and flipped us so I straddled him on the throne. “Ride me like you’re claiming your vengeance. Make a fucking mess all over the bones of those who dared lay a hand on you.”
My pussy constricted around him, eliciting another primal sound from his throat.
“Just like that. Let your cunt squeeze out every last drop from me.”
I worked my hips, sliding along his length, dragging my clit over his cut abdominals to give myself the extra friction I needed. Rokath’s biceps flexed as he guided me up and down. Despite the cold, sweat dripped down my spine.
With each pass, my core tightened, until I was mere moments away from shattering. Pants mingled with whimpers, but I smothered them with teeth digging into my bottom lip.
After all, this moment was for us. To align with what was to come. To become one, as we were always meant to be.
“I love you,” I gasped out as the remnants of my breath fled. Then, ecstasy blazed through my veins. My spine arched. My core fluttered. Stars danced in my vision like we were still outside on the roof. Rokath didn’t stop dragging me up and down, even as my arms and legs gave out from the force of my orgasm.
He gritted his teeth, our eyes still locked. “Fuck, I love you, Assyria. I never thought I’d be capable of it. But I’m finding, with you, I can do anything.” His dick throbbed, sending a final spark of pleasure through me. A whimper clawed up my throat as he pulled out, settling me on his thighs while he squirted his cum all over his stomach and the chair beneath us.
It had barely stopped before he tugged me against his chest, smoothing my hair and whispering words of adoration and praise. My eyes were heavy, and I let them close as I listened to the steady beat of his heart.
Before I knew it, I was back in our bed with him curled around me. The soft dawn whispered through our window, bleeding light over our bodies. It was the first day of the year—but the last before war demanded its toll.
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