Текст книги "Bound to the shadow prince"

Автор книги: Ruby Dixon

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Текущая страница: 13 (всего у книги 40 страниц)

Chapter

Thirty-Four

Since we’ve nothing but time in the tower, I decide that today is a special day.

Nemeth takes care of me regularly, so today I shall take care of him. I make a midday meal…poorly. And since we have no supplies to spare, we have to eat it. Somehow, though, it doesn’t bother us. Nemeth is touched that I try, and teases that I should actually look at Riza’s book of recipes next time instead of just guessing.

I sing him a birthday song (again, badly) and work on mending the hem of his favorite cloak while he reads his favorite book aloud to me. I offer to make him dinner that night, but Nemeth prefers to cook it himself. I do the washing up instead, and Nemeth tends to his mushroom farm that grows on the strange board. He’s had to move it to the storage rooms since they prefer darkness and I need the lights.

All in all, it’s a lovely sort of day. Nothing outside of the usual (other than my morning greeting to him), but pleasant anyhow.

Before bed, I present him with a cake of my favorite soap, scented with lavender. “If you ask nicely, I might even offer to wash you,” I tease, earning myself a wing flutter and a smile.

We get ready for bed and Nemeth taps the globes, one by one, turning off the lights and leaving the room in darkness. He climbs into bed next to me, and I hold my breath. Now, I wonder, will he touch me? Kiss me?

By all the gods, I would love for him to haul me against him and kiss the sense out of me.

Nothing happens, though, and I worry for a moment that he’s not interested. That I’ve misjudged somehow and the more I chase, the less he wants me. That I’m only a convenient mouth and nothing more, and that any man would have responded to the way I woke him up.

For a moment, I panic.

Then I remember the knife, and all the times it told me he was touching himself to thoughts of me. He does like me. I haven’t been imagining it. Something’s holding him back, though. Shyness? Maybe that’s what it is. Maybe he’s shy…or waiting for dawn so he can wake me up in a similar fashion.

I squeeze my thighs together at the thought. Oh, it is going to be so incredibly hard to sleep tonight if that’s the case.

“Thank you,” Nemeth says, voice soft in the darkness. “For today.”

“You’re welcome.” I mean it, too. I’ve enjoyed making him feel special. I can tell he’s not used to anyone doting on him, and I’m not used to doting on anyone myself, but I think we both had a lot of fun today. “It’s probably terrible to say this, but I’m glad you’re here with me. I don’t think I would have lasted this long without you, and the thought of spending the next seven years here with you at my side isn’t so bad.”

“Six,” he corrects. “It’s almost six now.”

“Almost six isn’t six, though. I’ll celebrate when we get our next round of food.” I smile into the inky black of the room, hugging the blanket to my chest. He hasn’t pulled me against him yet, which means he’s either not ready to sleep…or he’s hard. I find I’m not ready to sleep yet, either, so I turn on my side and face him.

The bed creaks and the mattress shifts, and then his green, glowing eyes blink to life in the darkness, telling me that he’s facing me, too.

I bite my lip, wondering if he’ll kiss me now. Ever since I touched him this morning, he’s been quiet. At first I thought it was simply that he was blown away by my generosity (and by having his cock sucked for the first time in his life) but what if he’s unhappy? What if that’s why he’s silent? “Are you all right?” I ask, unable to hold it in any longer. “You’ve been a little silent all day and I worry I’ve upset you now that I have leverage over you again.”

I keep my words teasing, but I feel vulnerable. If he’s offended in some way or wants me to stop touching him, I’ll definitely be hurt. Back at court, if someone bothered me, I could avoid them. Here in the tower…he’s all that I have for company. There’ll be no coming back from this if I’ve made him uncomfortable.

Nemeth chuckles, but the sound is awkward. “It’s not you. Please don’t think that.”

“Kinda can’t help but think that.”

“I know.” He sighs and reaches out and rubs my arm, his big hand warm through my sleep-gown. “Today just made me realize a few things, and my thoughts went to strange places.”

“What sorts of things did you realize?” I press, because I’m nosy and needy and I want him to tell me how much he liked my mouth on his cock.

His thumb rubs small circles onto my shoulder. “That I have mocked you for hating Fellians and finding them strange, and yet my thoughts have been polluted with the same sorts of things. It occurred to me that if I told anyone that a beautiful human princess woke me up with her mouth on my cock, they would think I was insane for allowing such intimacy…that I am deviant for allowing a human to touch me. And more deviant of all, that I liked it.”

“So you did like it,” I clarify. “You didn’t feel I sullied your honor or something like that?”

Nemeth snorts. “If you had, I would have asked you to sully my honor at every chance. No one has ever done something like that for me…and nothing has ever felt so good. I think that is why it made my thoughts spin to what my people would think.”

I move a little closer to him in the bed, because worry about what our people think? I totally understand that. “My sister wouldn’t understand,” I confess. “She’d think I’m a tramp for touching you. She’d be horrified, and her husband the king would probably toss me out of court. Send me to a convent where I could pray on my ‘lustful and wanton ways.’”

“And yet you still did it.”

I smile at those glowing eyes. “We’re the only ones here. The rest of the world abandoned us. Why should we care what they think?”

His eyes narrow in the darkness, as if his face is creasing into a smile. “You have an excellent perspective on things.”

“I’ve always been the useless princess. Maybe knowing that I’m unimportant except for my family name helps me not care. After all, I can be a whore and someone will still find me valuable because I’m a Vestalin.” I sound bitter, even to myself. “But I’m here for the next seven years because it’s better for the rest of the world, right? We’re martyrs so the fields can be full of crops and the Golden Moon Goddess will hold back her rage. We’re giving seven years of our lives up for everyone else. I think, given that, they’re not allowed to judge us for finding comfort in one another.”

His thumb strokes a teasing circle on my shoulder. “Is that all it is to you, then? Comfort?”

“Well, I don’t know,” I say, trying to keep my tone light. “What is it to you?”

“More.”

Just that one simple word fills me with soft, radiant joy, as if I’ve swallowed a star. One word, and I’m so…happy. “It’s more to me, too,” I whisper. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.” His hand slides off my shoulder and he takes my hand in his, squeezing it. “Ask anything.”

“Do your people kiss? Because I’ve been thinking about kissing you and you’ve never even tried to kiss me. So I wondered if you even kiss with those fangs of yours. If I’m being too nosy or forward, feel free to tell me so. It’s just…I was thinking about it.” By the Gray God’s night robe, now I feel like an absolute fool. I’m a princess. Why am I begging a man to kiss me?

Because it’s Nemeth, my mind tells me. He’s different.

He is, and that frightens me a little. If things sour between us—and they always sour with me and my lovers—there’ll be nowhere to hide.

“I’ve never kissed anyone,” he confesses. “And it’s not something my people do, no. We rub horns…but I have seen the humans at the Citadel kiss. Do you want me to kiss you?”

Do I want him to kiss me? The thought makes me want to laugh. I’m here in bed with him, our faces turned towards one another, and I’m filled with such yearning and affection for him. My heart feels both full and empty. Full, because I’m with him and I know he cares for me the way I care for him…and empty, because I desperately need him to show me just how much he wants me.

I don’t think I’ve ever wanted to be kissed more.

“I would love for you to kiss me,” I admit. “But only if you want to.”

“If you would like it, I would, too.” He pulls me closer to him in the bed, his gaze on me.

We’re so close now that our breath mingles, warm and inviting. I don’t think I’ve ever liked it when another lover breathed on me. They always smelled of sour wine or something worse. But with Nemeth, I like all his scents. His breath is never foul, and when I feel it against my skin, I know it’s because he’s close nearby, and it arouses me.

Then again, everything he does arouses me.

I slide a hand to his neck, stroking my thumb over his skin. He said his people rub horns. I look at the strange, sweeping cluster of horns that cover his scalp instead of hair, and wonder if he’d like for me to rub them for him, or if that’s a Fellian-only sort of gesture. “Can I touch you?”

“Now you ask?” he teases. “You know that you can touch me anywhere.”

I move a little closer, until our noses are practically brushing. “So…are you going to kiss me, then?”

“You’re impatient.” His amusement makes me flush with warmth.

“Of course I am. I’ve been waiting for you to kiss me for weeks.” The moment the words leave me, I know they’re true. I’ve been waiting for him to make a move since that first night when we cuddled under the blankets for warmth. The fact that he’s been so very circumspect is killing me. “I keep thinking you’re not attracted to me.”

His hands clench on my waist and his nose rubs against mine. “No. Never think that. You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

I smile. “Should I tell you that you’re the most fascinatingly virile man I’ve ever seen?” Stroking his cheek, I continue. “That I’ve never been so turned on by wings? That I watch you exercise because it lets me appreciate every flex of your muscles? That your big hands make me breathless, just like when you pin me under your hip when we sleep?”

“You should absolutely tell me all that.”

“I would, but instead of trading compliments, I’d much rather we just kiss,” I whisper.

Nemeth moves closer, and then his mouth brushes against mine. His face is hard and unyielding, the planes of it surprisingly brusque against my face. There is no softness in his cheek, and his nose doesn’t yield when mine brushes against it. He feels carved from the stone his people dwell under, and it surprises me.

But oh, his mouth is soft.

His lips move over mine, gentle and warm. It’s as if he’s carefully tasting me, not certain he’ll like the flavor. I hold still, because I’m afraid to even breathe and that it might somehow offend him. If his people don’t kiss, will he even like my mouth on his? Mouths are incredibly intimate sorts of things. I’ve kissed men before that turned out to be unpleasant to taste, and⁠—

His lips move over mine, breaking my chain of thoughts. One small nibble at my lower lip, teasing it, and then moving on to more light, teasing kisses. His searching mouth finds my upper lip and he gives it the same light, feathery kisses as my lower lip. I’m utterly entranced, my eyes fluttering closed as he brushes his mouth over mine. “You’re soft,” he murmurs. “So very soft.”

“Soft all over,” I agree with a whisper, because it seems I can never stop flirting.

Nemeth groans. “I’d wager you are,” he murmurs, and his words are hot against my mouth. “Can I kiss you with my tongue? That’s how it’s done properly, yes?”

“Please do.” If he doesn’t, I’m going to leap from the bed, screaming in frustration.

His tongue lightly flicks over my parted lips and then he’s entering my mouth, and I moan at the first touch of his tongue to mine. How is it that a Fellian can taste so good? He tastes like sweetness and honey, and his tongue is strong and pleasant against mine as he dips into my mouth in light, teasing strokes. He doesn’t stop after a few flicks, but keeps going, and my hands curl around his neck as he leans his weight over me, hauling me against him, and his kisses grow with intensity.

Oh yes, Nemeth likes kissing.

His mouth slants over mine, and the kiss grows hungrier by the moment, his tongue more dominant.

I moan against his mouth, because how the hell did he learn how to kiss like this? He’s a natural. With every slide of his tongue against mine, it makes me ache deep between my thighs. I press against him, panting and hungry. “Touch me.”

He lifts his head and strokes my cheek with those thumb claws. “Candra…”

“I want you.” I nip at his lower lip.

Nemeth groans. He presses his forehead to mine. “I would love to do nothing more than spend all night kissing you, princess, but I think we should savor it.”

I bite his lower lip again and suck on it, because I’m not sure he understands just how badly I want him right now. “Savor…it?”

Surely I’m hearing him wrong.

“Savor,” he agrees, leaning in to lightly brush my upper lip with a kiss. “Yes. After all, we have nothing but time here in this tower, do we not?”

Oh.

I suppose he’s right. We do have nothing but endless time. It would give us something to look forward to through the endless days. I’m disappointed, but I’m also intrigued. No one has ever wanted to “savor” me before. “What do you propose?”

“That we take our time. That we save kisses and touches for bed.” He strokes my cheek and then traces my jaw, his fingertips dancing over my lower lip. Hot curls of need ripple through me, and I want to whimper a protest when he draws away. “That we make each kiss and caress count. That we savor each one for how special it is.”

My aching pussy that wants desperately to be filled disagrees, but my heart adores how sweet Nemeth is. He wants to savor me. How can I possibly say no? “You do know my past has been less savoring and more…greedy.”

He kisses the tip of my nose. “Then our actions will make this all the more special.”

I’m not entirely convinced, but when he tugs me against him and holds me close, I’m willing to savor until tomorrow.

Chapter

Thirty-Five

Sleeping next to Nemeth means a lot of twitching and him taking up most of the bed for his wings, so when he adjusts the blankets and the bed creaks, I only roll over and tuck my head against the pillow. “Is it morning?”

“Mmmhmm.”

“Just wondering.” I don’t intend on getting out of bed. It’s far too pleasant and I don’t have anywhere to be. I pat the mattress without opening my eyes. “Come back and snuggle with me.”

Nemeth chuckles and I feel his weight shift on the bed. His hand grazes over my hip, and then he lifts the hem of my sleep-gown, hiking it up my thighs. “Roll onto your back for me, greedy princess.”

Ooooh. A change of heart? I’m awake now. I roll onto my back as he asks and tug my gown up the rest of the way, until it’s at my waist. “You’re not going to find a single objection to a morning wake-up such as this.”

His big hands skim over my legs, warming them. “Gods, you’re pretty.”

I wriggle with pleasure at that. My legs are plump and pale, but I like to think they look nice. I’ve never had any complaints. “I have hair between my legs,” I point out, since he did not. “It’s a normal human thing.”

“I see it,” he murmurs. “Such a sweet little tuft of floss.”

His husky words make me clench, and I’m getting wet with anticipation. He skims his hands over my thighs again, the bed creaking…and then stops.

Nothing happens.

I open my eyes but of course it’s pitch black in the chamber, without a hint of light bleeding in. “Um, Nemeth?”

“Sh,” he whispers. “Do you hear that?”

I don’t want to hear anything but the enthusiastic sounds of his mouth on my pussy. I squirm against his grip, but he’s still not doing more than holding my hips in place. “Hear what?”

“Sh,” he says again.

Then, I hear it.

A very faint chink. A pause, and then another chink.

Like someone’s tapping away at the tower.

I sit bolt upright at that. “Balon? Do you think he’s trying to come in?”

“I don’t know,” Nemeth says, and there’s a growl in his voice. “But if he is, I aim to stop him.”

Never have I heard Nemeth so…possessive. So fiercely angry. I shiver with unexpected delight. “Maybe it’s just birds,” I say, even as I swing my legs over the side of the bed. I hear Nemeth moving about in the chamber, and two taps later, one of the lights flares to life. I catch a mouthwatering glimpse of his straining morning erection in his loin-wrap, but then he turns away and picks up his kilt.

“Whoever it is, they have bloody awful timing,” I mutter. To think that Nemeth woke up aroused and ready to treat me with the same wake-up that I gave him…and then to cruelly thwart me.

He chuckles. “It is the gods reminding me that I am to savor and not to be weak and greedy.”

“I don’t mind weak and greedy.” But I get dressed, too, because I’m curious what that sound is. I throw on an ornately embroidered sitting gown and knot the seven ties across the front that act as a bodice and make it decent, and then slide my feet into my slippers. “Get the light?”

He finishes belting his kilt and picks up one of the lights while I braid my hair as I walk. I can’t help but notice that Nemeth’s hand remains firmly on the small of my back, as if he’s protecting me from Balon…if it even is Balon. I think about my knife’s ominous silence and worry anew.

At some point, I’m going to have to tell Nemeth about the knife. Perhaps after I dig it out again. Right now, I’m not certain I want to hear its answers. For now, I’m happier not knowing.

We head downstairs, to the large empty chamber. It’s been a while since I’ve done more than simply pass through this room, especially now that all of my wood is gone. It’s so strange to me that this tower has four floors but both Nemeth and I barely use the top floor and this one. Perhaps prior Offerings came with a larger amount of things? A full suite of furniture? Musical instruments? Or is it simply to provide enough room so that both the Fellian Offering and the Liosian one don’t have to run into one another?

On the main floor, now we can hear the steady clinking of rock and the sound of brick being chipped away. I draw closer to Nemeth, because I don’t know what to make of this. “Do you think it’s our supplies?”

“The solstice is not for another week,” Nemeth tells me, and I can hear the concern in his voice, too. “It’s not against the goddess’s rules for the door to be opened so long as we do not step outside.”

Right. The rules are clear that we have to stay in, and no one else can join us. “If it’s Balon, what do we do?”

“What we have to do,” Nemeth says grimly.

I glance up at him, fretting. Balon is harmless. He’s a flighty, pretty idiot. I don’t think he has a mean bone in his body, but what if I’m wrong? What if he’s decided he’s going to liberate me from the tower like I begged when I first arrived?

I’m…not sure I want to be liberated anymore. I still hate the tower. I hate it and I hate the suffocating darkness and having to wash my own clothes and all that comes with it…but I like Nemeth, and I like being alone with him. The moment we leave the tower, all of our closeness, our savoring, will be gone.

We’re supposed to be enemies. I’m supposed to have killed him and stolen his food to ensure my own survival.

I’m definitely not supposed to be kissing him.

There’s a loud clink and the sound of crumbling brick. Then, two more fast-paced thunks of pickaxes hitting the brick. “More than one person,” I whisper as the pickaxes move faster. “There’s at least two.”

Nemeth hands me the light. “Stay here.”

I clutch it tight, watching as he strides forward, his wings flicking with agitation. He moves towards the heavy, sealed wooden door and then puts his ear to it, listening. After a moment, he pulls away and looks over at me. “They are breaking down the wall.”

Well, that’s obvious. “Did they say why?”

He shakes his head and then stiffens, his wings flaring out behind him. A look of recognition crosses his face and then he glances over at me. “Liosian. They have a sled. Someone just told them to bring it forward.”

Oh. “That must be my supplies. They’ve come early? Unless we’ve messed the dates up?” We’re still marking days on the wall, but given that we have no sunrise or sunset in here, it’d be easy for things to slide off track.

Nemeth shrugs. He touches my shoulder and then sinks into the shadows, disappearing. “I can’t let them see me with you.”

“Right. Of course.” It makes sense. I don’t know why it hurts my feelings, though. He’s just being cautious. The last thing we need is for them to change their minds and not give us food. Nemeth has been judicious with his supplies and still has enough for maybe another month, but I’ve been down to scraps for weeks now. I need what they’re bringing in, and my excitement grows with every crumble of brick and the loud CHINK of the pickaxes tearing away the wall in front of the door.

The doors rattle, and then there’s a loud scrape as the bar is pulled away. I clutch the light to my chest—and then realize what I’m doing. Right. I can’t show Fellian magic to them. I quickly tap tap it off and set it aside, blinking at the darkness that surrounds me.

The doors open and the chamber floods with sunlight. I blink, stepping forward, as I see sunlight for the first time in a year. Three men stand outside in Liosian livery, wearing the leather-and-chain armor common with the court guards. They look tired and haggard, but I’m delighted to see them. “Greetings!” I call out, crossing over to them. “Are you here early? You⁠—”

One holds a sword up. He points it at me. “I’m sorry, princess, but you have to stay inside.”

“Oh, I wasn’t leaving,” I say, shocked. I stare at the weapon pointed at me and take a step backward. “I just wanted to breathe in the fresh air.”

“I need you to stay back,” he repeats again, not lowering the sword. “We won’t be here long.”

“Are those my supplies?” I can see a packed sled behind the men on the beach.

“They are.”

“You’re here early.”

He keeps a watchful eye on me, as if he doesn’t trust me not to dart past him and race for the shore. “We came while the weather is good.”

“Has there been bad weather, then?” It looks gorgeous outside to me. The sunlight pours in, warm and bright. I can hear the distant waves hitting the shore and the call of an albatross, and I ache with the need to step into the sun. I want to breathe in the sea air, if only for a few hours. I close my eyes and breathe deep. Gods, I want to go outside. He’s right to hold his sword on me, because that sea breeze is divine and I want to drink it in.

But I tell myself that I can’t.

They can’t come in, and I can’t go out. Even if they didn’t try to stop me, I suspect Nemeth would. There’s more riding on my staying here than just my personal wants. I can’t leave. I can’t step a foot outside.

But oh, that breeze tempts me.

One of the men steps forward and tosses a long rope in towards me. It falls at my feet, a large knot at the end. The other side is tied to the front of the sled. “Pull on your side and we’ll push.”

“Did you bring firewood?” I ask as I delicately pick up the rope. “Because I need wood. Last year there wasn’t nearly enough.”

To my surprise, the man’s face contorts and hardens with what looks like rage. “You’ll take what we give you and be grateful. Make demands and we’ll turn around and leave with your food.”

My jaw drops. I stare at him in shock. He’s…he’s threatening me? “But you have to. That’s the agreement.”

Somewhere in the darkness, Nemeth growls low in his throat.