Текст книги "King of flesh and bone"

Автор книги: Liv Zander

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Chapter 15

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Ada

My heart shriveled inside my chest. “You had a child?”

“Not truly.” Enosh’s gaze went adrift somewhere in the distance. “I only got to enjoy the cadence of her heartbeat for a little while before Mertok took her away. My daughter died in Njala’s belly when the commander slit her throat.”

There was that pity again, shifting beneath my ribs as if it rearranged them right along with my perception of this man. More than just the loss of a child lingered in his tone. I heard the agonizing loneliness of his existence, the monotony of an eternal life committed to duty, and the lament this had caused him.

As someone who’d prayed for a child many times, I understood the gnawing ache of its absence. If someone took my child from me, chances were, I’d call them wicked, too.

Or worse… vow revenge.

I glanced up at Enosh, the stubble on his usually pristine face so unlike the chiseled perfection he’d maintained for over a month. “I didn’t think gods could sire children. Why was your daughter not like you? Immortal?”

“Who can say?” He shrugged too stiffly to carry his usual aloofness. “Among mortals, not all children inherit their father’s curses, do they?”

My ears twitched at the dismay in the undertone of his voice. “So you consider your immortality a curse?”

“Ever since I stood over the body of my dead child…” His eyes took mine captive with their unguarded openness, as though he allowed me a rare glimpse of the man behind the mask. “Wanting to follow her, but duty-bound to remain here for eternity, left with nothing but the memory of her heart’s cadence.”

Everything stilled inside me, giving resonance to his words and the pain they held, almost like an echo of my own. “As far back as I can think, I’ve always wanted a child.”

“Yes, your love for children is evident. I have no doubt you will be with child before long.”

That took me aback. “But I’m barren.”

“Your womb is healthy and hale.”

Cautious excitement coursed through me. “Because you untwisted it.”

“Oh, my little one, you have never been barren,” he said. “Has it never occurred to you that the fault was with John?”

My blood chilled.

No. Never.

Every man knew the woman was to blame. But then again, no man knew Enosh was a god, so maybe men knew nothing at all. If the god who ruled over flesh and bone said I’d never been barren, then why would I doubt him? Enosh could be cold and cruel, but he was as honest in his threats as in his promises.

My next breath suspended itself at the idea and all that it implied. Had I truly blamed myself all those years for no reason, shouldering John’s disappointment and the gossip of Hemdale?

Unwoman.

Subtle anger weaved through me at the memory of the word, the hushed whispers that had followed me from village to village. How some had warned women away from me as if I carried a disease. What if I fell pregnant with Enosh’s child?

Heavens, my heart beat too quickly for all the wrong reasons. A child was what I’d wanted for so long; the thought of cradling my own, feeding it from my breast, kissing it—

But I couldn’t want it with him.

I didn’t.

I paced my breathing, which helped clear those thoughts that would only drive me into useless hysteria. “Thank you for rotting Anna.”

He offered a low grunt. “Don’t ask it of me again beyond our agreement.”

Oh, but I would.

I might have forever failed at escaping Enosh, but that was a small price to pay in exchange for children to find rest and peace. Smaller yet for what I set out to do during my eternal life—to open the Pale Court to the dead. But how?

Once we returned, Orlaigh and I needed to have a chat.

“You should have negotiated for my silence if you didn’t want me to ask it of you again,” I said. “I might have settled for less.”

“I might have offered more.”

A genuine smile curved his lips, offering a strange sight with how it smoothed away the edges of his usually severe face. Had he been like this before the loss of his unborn child? Could he be like this again?

As if he’d seen the question in my eyes, his features hardened, shutting me out, as though he decided I’d seen enough of him. “This search for the temple is starting to bore me.”

“Over there.” Untangling myself from his grip, I pointed left toward the sunstar peeking from the treetops of scattered pines. “Guess I can no longer call myself your whore since I’ll be your wife.”

He clicked the horse into a faster pace toward the temple. “You’re about to wed the King of Flesh and Bone. Correct me if I am mistaken, but that, my little one, makes you a queen.”

That shut me up until we reached the temple grounds, which turned out to be nothing but a shrine inside a small building of whitewashed brick. Few graves scattered to one side, most weighted down with boulders. To the other side, a small cottage lay quiet, although a candle flickered in one of the small windows.

Enosh rode up to the door, giving it two hearty kicks with the heel of his boot. “We are in urgent need of a priest!”

Inside, furniture moaned and plates clanked.

The door swung open and a moment later, a man poked his gnarly nose out. “Who dares disturb my silence during such ungodly an—” Stumbling back, the man made the sign of Helfa as he blinked at us from underneath thick, white brows. “This cannot be…”

“Are you what they call a priest?”

“A priest is what you seek…” The old man scrutinized Enosh for long seconds. “Father Leofric is my name. A priest I am, yes.”

“Prove it.” Enosh dismounted, seashells crunching underneath the impact before he pulled me down and draped me over his arms. “You shall wed us before your… god as we take our vows as husband and wife.”

Father Leofric stood mute for a moment, his eyes flicking between us and the stack of books on the table beside the door. As much as he recognized Enosh, word of his presence might not have spread to this quaint place in the woods yet.

“You are the evil that plagues these lands, as depicted in the holiest of books,” Leofric said, his voice thin and shaky. “I cannot possibly wed you before the eyes of Helfa.”

“You will either see to our wedding or I will see to your funeral, mortal.” The threat in Enosh’s voice had the man’s neck shorten by an inch. “Choose, Father Leofric.”

A faint wail escaped the old man before he stumbled for his Tome of Helfa, which rested on a wooden holder on a shelf. “Vows, yes, yes, yes. The King wishes to be wed… Where is my… ah—”

Father Leofric haphazardly draped a gold-embroidered stole over his shoulders and slipped into his brown, hooded cape before he grabbed the holy book. Then he stopped and eyed my dress. “Does your bride not wish to don her blue?”

I looked at Enosh. “The bride has to wear blue, the color of innocence.”

“If a blue gown is what she requires, then she will have it,” Enosh said. “Lead me to the place of this… ceremony.”

“Right this way, if you will.” Father Leofric dipped his head, waving toward the shrine. “It’s small indeed, erected almost one hundred years—”

“Inside then.”

Enosh carried me through the wooden archway, the building only big enough to hold two short pews and a small pedestal before a simple sun made of metal, nailed to the brick behind.

And as he carried me, plumes of smoke danced around me. They brushed my skin, tingled my neck until, surging toward me, they manifested as feathers in all shades of blue. Traces of green weaved through them, almost like in the shape of eyes, depending on how the low-hanging sun filtered in.

It was… beautiful beyond words.

When my feet reached the ground, Enosh clasped my waist tightly to keep me from falling. “You will begin now.”

Father Leofric hurried up the pedestal, his eyes flicking between the gown and Enosh, the word witchcraft on his trembling lips, but he kept it to himself. “Kneel before Helfa.”

 “I kneel before no mortal,” Enosh scoffed, “and certainly not before the faithless figments of man’s feeble mind. And my wife cannot kneel for I twisted her legs. Begin the ceremony!”

Father Leofric’s face wrinkled up, but he spared me no more but a sideways glance before he nodded. “Very well. Your names?”

My throat tightened. “Adelaide.”

“Enosh.”

“Enosh,” the old man mumbled as his shaky fingers clasped a nearby quill, pulling it from the inkwell before he scribbled into the book of bindings. “We will recite the vows before God. Adelaide, speak after me.”

But I knew the vow by heart. “I, Adelaide, take thee, Enosh, to be my wedded husband, to serve and to obey from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, for eternity, and thereto, I plight thee my troth.”

Everything stilled around us as I gave away my vow, and with it, myself in every sense of the word—my body for him to have, my life for him to hold for eternity.

Father Leofric gave a curt nod. “Now you, Enosh.”

Hands clasped around my waist, the god repeated the vow with no hesitation. “I, Enosh, take thee, Adelaide, to be my wedded wife, to command and to protect from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to… to…”

When Enosh stalled, Father Leofric cleared his throat and repeated the last part, “To love and to cherish, for eternity, and thereto, I plight thee my troth.”

A whirlwind of emotions swirled in the depths of Enosh’s gray eyes as he cupped my cheek. “I shall cherish you for eternity and give you all of what I have. Except for my heart, for we both know I have none to give.”

My stupid stomach sunk slightly as though I could possibly feel rejected by a man I didn’t want. Perhaps because Enosh had a heart, as much as it disturbed me to admit it—one filled with rage and grief, but not as black and hateful as I’d first accused.

Father Leofric stood flabbergasted for a moment, but eventually nodded. “Very well. In the name of Helfa the Allfather, I hereby pronounce you husband and wife.”

Enosh went out of his way and dipped his head ever so slightly. “Mmm, priest, what a dreadful circumstance for you that I have just vowed to protect my wife.”

Warm droplets splattered my face.

My eyes clenched shut on instinct, but I didn’t need to see to know that Father Leofric was no more. I wiped a hand over my face, pressing my lips together to seal away the taste of iron. When I blinked my eyes open again, the old man bled out by my feet from a bone spike in his throat, his mouth gaping like a fish out of water.

As I stared down at the dying man, a question pounded to life at the back of my mind. If Enosh had decimated an entire realm for his companion, what would become of the world if something ever happened to his wife?

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Chapter 16

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Ada

A day later, I woke in Enosh’s arms. Not an uncommon occurrence, except for the fact that the god himself was asleep.

Dark fans of his lashes lowered, chest rising and falling at an even pace, lips slightly parted… During all my time at the Pale Court, not once had I witnessed him asleep.

Why now?

Propping myself onto my elbow, I let my finger stroke a raven strand from the god’s face. My husband’s face. I’d touched him many times, but had I ever truly felt him? How his hair refused to part a certain way as I stroked through it? How soft it was toward the ends, which spread out over his brawny chest? How his skin pebbled beneath my touch, tiny bumps spreading across—

His fingers wrapped around my wrist just as his eyes sprung open. “What are you doing, little one?”

Yes, just what was I doing? “Touching you.”

“Do more of it.” He took my hand, guiding it to survey the sway of his dark brows, down the fullness of black lashes, and along the perfect curvature of his sensuous lips, all while he held my stare with ardent concentration. “What say you? Does it meet my wife’s approval? Am I not shaped to divine perfection?”

“An age-old soul hiding beneath the beauty of a young man.”

“Quite so.”

I wasn’t sure what reaction I’d expected next, but it certainly wasn’t something so mundane as the man letting go of my hand in favor of a good stretch. He extended corded arms that could break my spine and took a deep breath, taking his time as if he hadn’t done so in ages—and perhaps he hadn’t.

“How long since you last slept?”

“Two centuries.” His sleep-roughened voice prickled across my shoulder as he turned to face me, letting my head slip into the cradle of his arm. “When I do sleep, it is often for days, months even, and so deeply that little can rouse me.”

“Why now?”

He thumbed my brow, slowly following its sway with a tenderness he displayed more and more often. “Mmm, my wife is curious.” His voice faded against the side of my neck where he kissed me, then he trailed his lips along my collarbone and down the fullness of my breast as he maneuvered himself on top of me. “Because if I sleep now, I trust I shall wake with you waiting by my side.” He sucked my nipple into his mouth and swirled his tongue around it, followed by a careful rake of his teeth. “Your kiss, wife.”

A kiss he came to collect as he shifted on top of me, wedging his legs between my knees so I would spread for him. His mouth covered mine as he rocked his hard shaft against the junction of my legs, pressing down until my nymph pulsated. Enosh suckled my lips, drinking them in before he parted them with a stroke of his tongue. It came together with mine in play as he moaned into my mouth, a hungry sound that heated the blood in my veins—likely without his involvement, and I wouldn’t bother pretending otherwise.

My hands wandered to his back, sensing the shift of his muscles beneath my palm, the hard bone running along his shoulder blade, the—

He pinned my arms over my head. “Oh, my little wife,” he whispered against my lips, “I still owe you a punishment for defying your god and trying to refuse him your warmth.”

Even as he sat back on his haunches to smirk at me, my arms remained restrained over my head, the bone wrapped around my wrists shackling me to the bed he’d made for us.

“What are you doing?” I thrashed once, twice. “You said no chains.”

“No, no chains. They would allow for movement, and you shall have none of… Ah-ah-ah, stop struggling against your bonds.” He pulled on my ankles, spreading my legs apart, only for bone to wrap around them and tie me down. “Mmm, my little mortal vexed me so at the tavern. Let me show you, wife, how much it hurts when I deny you my touch.”

Said hurt shot into my sex, torturing me with such need that my hips bucked in search of friction… but found none. I rolled my pelvis against air, only for my stomach to convulse when nothing offered relief from this violent need around my cunt. Fire raged at my core, sending waves of heat through my body that scorched me from the inside, only for it to break against the coldness of an absent touch. My nipples rose, hard and needy for attention, for someone to pull them, suckle them, pinch them.

They went ignored.

“Terrible, isn’t it? When you are so consumed with lust but have nothing to share it with, not even something as simple as a hand.” He lay beside my shackled body, reached between my legs, and pressed his palm against where I hurt, soothing it into ripples of bliss. “Friction. It’s in your nature to move, buck, and rub in search of it. But remove it…” Another cramp of pleasure shot into me just as he retreated his hand, making me toss and mewl, the sensation strange and painful in its intensity. “Deny touch when you succumb to such pleasure, and it hurts.”

Pain and pleasure roped around me, winding my body so tight I couldn’t tell them apart as I shuddered, tossing between the constraints of my shackles as I reached my peak. One that shattered me into a million pieces, only to put me back together again, feeling empty and dissatisfied.

“Never again deny me your warmth,” Enosh whispered against my ear as he played with the curls around my sex and the manacles retreated. “Now turn onto your belly.”

My hackles rose and I stared up at him. Nothing good ever came of it when he wanted me in that way, with my arse on display and for the taking. How did I deserve this? Hadn’t he just punished me?

“Remember, my woman forever, to serve and obey.” He retreated and sat back on his haunches, his hair tousled from sleep, but it made his presence no less commanding. “Turn onto your belly. Now.”

My muscles tightened with dread, but I slowly turned under the scrutiny of his stare, unsure as to what had been worse—him making me or knowing that I was likely doing it all by myself.

“That’s my good wife.” His dark voice rasped over my shoulder blade as his weight settled onto my back, his hip rocking against me in circular movements, each roll letting his crown inch toward my darkest hole. “Shh… no need to grow tense. Do not mistake me, my treasure. Your ass is mine and I’ll use it whenever I wish, but it is not what I want right now.”

At that, his lips ghosted down along my spine, from where it spread into gooseflesh as his mouth went to my—

Dear God, he couldn’t possibly… Oh!

The tip of his tongue burrowed between my cheeks, tunneling toward a hole he’d used many times, but never like this. Digging his fingers into my arse, he spread me wider before he greedily lapped at me, circling the tip of his tongue around the ring of muscle.

“I ought to cherish my wife… every part of her, even this little hole.” As if to make a point, he lapped slower, letting it tingle in the most delicious way. “Next time I take you here, I might ease you into it with this. Make it wet and needy until it begs me to stretch it so nicely.”

He made my back arch, or perhaps I arched it as I moaned, “Oh my god…”

His obligatory snicker followed as he dipped inside, wiggling the hardened tip of his tongue in a way that sent surges of need through me. My hand slipped beneath my hips, venturing toward my cunt, where I played with my hard bud—

His tsk stilled my fingers. “What a poor husband would I be if I left you to chase behind your pleasure, hmm?”

His weight pressed down on me once more.

I braced for a violent thrust.

Instead, Enosh entered my cunt slowly, stretching me wide, one agonizing inch after another. “Ah, you are so deliciously ripe, your womb flourishing between the rush of blood.”

I moaned when he seated himself fully inside me and stilled for a moment, for once allowing me time to adjust. “Ripe?”

“Ripe for a load of my seed.” His suggestive stroke from my waist to my belly sent a shiver across my skin. “I will give you what no other has. And what is that, my little one? Tell me.”

I shook my head.

He retaliated by drawing back, only to snap his hips forward again. “Still stubborn.”

“Still arrogant.”

“Rightfully so.” His hand slipped beneath my belly, only for his fingers to wander lower. He pressed against my nymph, pinning it until it grew a second pulse. “I will sire a son or a daughter on you. Your belly will grow heavy with the child of a god. Our child.”

A moan escaped me unbidden.

His words infused my blood with liquid desire, and for once, I had no doubt it was my own. It stoked a flame deep in my core, burning me with a longing I’d carried for years. Years!

“Yes, I will fill you with my seed, again and again, until it catches in your womb.” His pace quickened and his breathing altered, masculine groans mingling with the slap-slap-slap of skin against skin as he snapped his hips in quick pulsations. “Mmm, I am so close. Five more strokes. Four. Three. Ah, yes, you want this perhaps even more than I do. Show me how nicely my wife can clench around me, milking the seed from me to the last… precious… drop.”

I bore down against the workings of his hand, pressing my lips together against the scream building at the back of my throat. It dislodged anyway, mingling with his throaty groan as we both reached our acme of pleasure. The intense throbbing of his shaft joined the violent flickers around my nymph until his hips lost their rhythm, and Enosh’s deafening roar shattered from the bony walls.

With a sense of utter exhaustion, as though all energy had left me in one spark, my body turned sluggish. Enosh wrapped his shaky arm around my belly, lifting my hips as his weight retreated, allowing me to inhale deeply. But only until he pushed between my shoulder blades, pressing my chest into the furs.

“Stay like this,” he commanded as he gingerly withdrew, all while steadying my hips, keeping my arse raised high. “Do not spill a single drop of my seed, or I’ll have to repeat this sooner than you can recover.  Tsk-tsk… my love, did I not tell you not to spill?” His blunt crown swiped up along my folds, slowly, until he nudged my entrance once more. The sudden invasion of his cock made me gasp as he pushed deep, then he slowly retreated, and suddenly collapsed onto the bed beside me, grinning at me. “I put it back in.”

I wasn’t sure what to do with this, or the unexpected thrill beneath my sternum for that matter, and only stared at him, not even daring to shift my balance. “Even hale women take time to conceive.”

“Ah, but I quite enjoy the effort, my treasured wife.” One arm propped underneath his cheek, he raked his fingers through my tousled strands, brushing them over my shoulder. “We have all of eternity to make children.”

Children.

As in, more than one.

A gentle buzzing started beneath my skin, like little pulsations of excitement I couldn’t condone—or fully condemn. “Let’s hope a plow horse comes in before then, so you can have a cradle of bone ready by the time I give birth.”

He gave a long exhale as he took in the room he’d formed for me, pupils going from bed to stool to bookshelf—and that was it. No tub, no table, no trundle. Only four thin alabaster walls forming a small square room, as bare and boring as the rest of the Pale Court.

It bothered him.

I could tell by how his lips pressed into a white slash, and he briefly rubbed two fingers over his temple as if warding off a headache. It quickened the pulse in my veins because I could use this to my advantage.

But he only sighed and said, “Mmm, but there is always wood from beyond the gates.”

Blast it to hell, I made no progress here. “I’m hungry.”

His brows knitted together, probably because I wasn’t hungry at all and he knew it, but I needed the man out of the room and Orlaigh here in his stead. “Very well. I will have Orlaigh bring you food and take the opportunity to assess the bridges.”

“Thank you. Can I… can I move now?”

Reluctantly, he nodded. “I shall have you again once you have eaten.”

I sat up and, unable to help myself, stared behind his firm buttocks as he left. When the doors closed, my gaze went to the stool and the clay pitcher of water that rested inside a bone basin.

The longer I looked at it, the more my skin itched. I should wash his seed out of me, shouldn’t I? What woman would want a child with Enosh? But if I was hale, how long could I escape that fate? And if it might help me get him to open the gates to the dead…? Wasn’t I allowed then?

I swallowed.

Looked forward to it, even?

Orlaigh cut my internal ramblings short when she stepped through the door, balancing a platter with bread and, from the sweetness of it, steamed pears. “Ach, lass, have a look.” Platter placed on my bed, she lifted her hands and wiggled ten immaculate fingers. “Not a speck of rot on me old bones. Whatever ye did to me Master, do more.”

I sensed my forehead wrinkle. “That’s an issue because I have no idea what I did, exactly.”

A hearty chuckle shook her chest. “Only taken the man as yer wedded husband.”

I quickly rose to wash between my legs, then slipped into my chemise, and took a warm slice of pear. “And gave a vow he doesn’t need. Enosh would’ve kept me locked here for eternity in any case, so what’s the difference?”

She placed her hand onto my shoulder, the touch cold but the gesture warm. “The difference, lass, is that me Master couldn’t make ye give a vow.”

Nothing bores me more than to make you.

One of his first words to me.

Well, he hadn’t looked all too bored when he’d made me swallow his seed or viciously fucked my arse. What difference did it make to him if I came at my own choosing, given how little effort it took him to make me? None. Not unless he actually cared about my opinion of him.

Or my feelings…

My stomach tumbled as I thought back on his brother’s offer. I will make her love you, he’d said. She’ll adore you. Enosh had responded with silence. Something I’d dismissed as arrogant indifference then, but what if it had been hesitation? If he had the very human desire of a mate and a child, what if he also desired to be loved?

My mouth turned dry.

Could I ever find affection for the heartless god?

No… not heartless.

Saying Enosh had neither heart nor compassion would have been a lie. The grave he’d dug for Anna, the pain in his eyes over a daughter lost, that he’d agreed to at least rot the children…

It worked on me.

Scraped away my hate one small kindness at a time, uncovering compassion for his pain and an understanding for how the curse damning our lands had come at the hands of mortals. Still, sympathy was a long way from love.

I devoured the slice of pear and turned to Orlaigh. “Tell me about Njala.”

She eyed me for as long as it took the old woman to shake the furs covering the bed. “Aye, I was there when the little lady came to this world. Nursed her moments later, then watched her grow. Bonny lass. The first proposal for marriage came when she was only thirteen summers old. Dinnae let me catch me breath either, shushing me about even as a wee thing.”

“Did she go with Enosh willingly?”

Orlaigh pursed her lips and lowered herself onto the edge of the bed, eyes going adrift on bone before she turned her head and gave me a smile too tense to be sincere. “Ach, lass, as willingly as any daughter of any lord may go with any stranger he sees fit. A young thing, sixteen summers old, with her reputation stained because of how they found the lass in the stables with that bloody—” A thick swallow struggled down the rest before she rose, shaking the same furs yet again. “Years, a decade, centuries… dinnae even remember the lad’s name anymore. Ach, how the little lady cried when me Master brought us here.”

So she’d been forced, as was the lot for most girls, regardless of station. “Was he cruel to her?”

“Lass, if anything, me Master wasn’t cruel enough,” she said on a sigh. “Ach, the little lords and ladies with their starched bottoms, never content with what they had. The room too cold, the footmen too dead, the sight of corpses too ghastly.”

“She didn’t like the Pale Court.”

“Nay, lass, no matter how me Master shaped it whichever way her mood swayed, so taken was he with the foolish thing.”

The only thing he’d ever shaped for me with enthusiasm was my collar. A fact that, somehow, twinged between my ribs.

“He truly loved her.”

Another twinge.

Did he love her still?

“Mm-hmm, he loved her…” The shadows beneath her wrinkles darkened before she mumbled, “Loved her to death.”

I wrapped my arms around my middle, warding off a sudden chill. “What do you mean? Someone slit her throat, correct?”

“Aye, Commander Mertok,” she said, matching Enosh’s version of this closely enough. “For three days, me Master hid himself away with her corpse, keeping the rot from her in a frenzy. Oh, how the Pale Court shook, bridges cracking right through the pillars.”

Given how he’d made a tavern shake in anger, I didn’t have the courage to picture how he must have been when Njala and the baby died. “Did she… return his love?”

She tilted her head and lifted a brow. “As sincerely as they teach any lady of good breeding.”

So… she hadn’t loved him.

Why not?

Enosh had a loving, attentive side to him. By the sound of it, Njala had seen more of it than I ever would. In a time when the god had done his duty, could it have been so impossible to fall in love with such an annoyingly handsome man? Had Enosh known she hadn’t loved him?

“It’s hard for me to imagine how he must have been before she died,” I said. “I only know him as an enraged god with a grudge.”

“Ach, lass, the lands beyond the Soltren Gate are no more, all over quarrels of the heart.” Her hands stalled on the furs and her pale green eyes bore into me. “Worse than a god in rage is a god in love.”

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