Authors: Richelle Mead
Suddenly, he pulled out abruptly and hovered back over me. His eyes, dark in this light, watched me, and I sensed that laconic, playful expression on his face. Both of us panted. I waited for him to return, feeling irate at this interruption. I’d been on the verge of coming again. Somehow I suspected he’d known that.
“What are you doing?”
“Waiting. Waiting for you to tell me to keep going.”
He wasn’t being cruel or mean. He was teasing me, toying with me the way he so enjoyed among the people around here.
“You fucking bastard,” I said. Somehow the profanity carried mild affection.
He laughed. “Should I take that to mean you want me to continue?”
“You know I do.”
“Then say it outright. Unless you’re going to get up and take me yourself.”
“Did I mention you’re a bastard?”
“Tell me you don’t want me to stop. Beg me. Beg me, and we’ll do this for the rest of the night.”
It was merely a game, another dimension of this power play and his dominance over me. And, much to my chagrin, it was a turn-on.
“Please,” I whispered.
“Please what?”
“Please…don’t stop. I want…I want you to keep…”
“Keep what?”
I sighed. “I want you to keep fucking me.”
He was back in me almost before the words had left my lips. I yelled out again as moments later, the delayed orgasm exploded in me. I shook and burned as that glittering sensation crackled through me. All the while, our bodies kept moving together. His face was near mine, watching with pleasure as I panted and struggled against a joy that was almost too intense.
“I hate you,” I gasped out.
He laughed and rained kisses down on my face. “No, you don’t.”
He was right.
“I know what you’re thinking.”
I stretched my arms above me, tucking my hands between my head and the pillow. Sunlight poured over me from the giant window but did little to help my troubled mood. I’d been sullen and quiet all morning. “Not likely.”
Dorian reached over to a tray of assorted pastries and sweets that had been sitting by the bed when we awoke. That and the newly built-up fire were only a couple of signs that tidying servants had been up and around in here. Their presence shouldn’t have bothered me; everyone had already believed Dorian and I were sleeping together. Yet, knowing others had moved around us while we slept still felt odd.
He popped a marzipan-stuffed tartlet into my mouth. I made a surprised sound but ate it anyway. He had excellent cooks. “Well, then, let me guess anyway. I do so love trying to reason out your thoughts.”
He grinned at me, every inch the lighthearted and frivolous man I usually knew. He bore almost no trace of the impassioned lover from last night, the one who’d repeatedly told me in explicit detail exactly what he could do to me if he wanted—and then proved that he could.
I rolled to my side, putting my back to him. “Knock yourself out.”
“All right. You’re now realizing you did the unthinkable. You made love to me—one of the shining ones. You crossed over that invisible line, and now the horror and regret of that is eating you up.”
“No.”
“No?”
“No, that’s not what I’m thinking.”
“Oh.”
I heard him shift again and then felt a cookie balanced delicately on my arm. I snagged it and munched on it, getting crumbs on the sheets while he reconsidered. Lemon sugar.
“Very well. How about this: You’re thinking about the kitsune. About Kiyo. You miss him and lament what happened. Being with me makes you feel guilty.”
I hadn’t been thinking about Kiyo, but mentioning him suddenly brought him to mind. I did miss Kiyo. I missed the easy way we interacted, his solid and steady presence. I missed the way he held me and made me feel safe.
“No.”
“Hmm. Well, then. My perception appears to be off this morning. It has been known to happen once or twice before.”
I stared out the window, unsettled emotions turning over and over in me. Finally, I said, “I’m bothered by…how it was last night. How rough it was.”
“Truly? I really don’t know you so well. I thought you enjoyed it.”
“I did.”
He waited a beat. “Forgive me, then, but I don’t quite grasp your concern.”
I rolled back over toward him, and it all spilled out. “Don’t you get it? All this time I’ve been trying to avoid hordes of gentry and monsters from raping me. And yet…that’s essentially what happened last night. I let you…I let you be aggressive and possessive. And then I liked it. What’s that say about me? What’s wrong with me?”
Dorian’s face shifted to that rare and serious concern that sometimes seized it. He reached out and cupped my face with both of his hands. “Oh, gods, no. Is that what’s upset you? Eugenie, Eugenie. That’s not rape. Rape is brutal. Rape is done against your will, usually with someone you hate—or at least like a little less than me. What we did last night…that was a game. I believe it initially helped you get over a mental stumbling block, but after that…there was nothing violent or bad. It was a…novel way of approaching sex. You consented. There’s nothing wrong with you for liking it.”
Maybe he was right, but it still made me feel strange. “I’ve just never done anything like that. I’ve had rough sex before but never anything so…kinky.”
“Kinky. Fantastic word. It always takes us awhile to catch up with your world’s slang.”
“It makes things weird between us. I mean, weirder than usual.”
He ran his hand over my cheek and through my hair. “Then tell me how to make things right.”
“I don’t know.”
“Perhaps this will cheer you up: We’re ready to go to Aeson’s now.”
“What?” That didn’t cheer me up so much as surprise me. Where had this come from?
“We can go whenever you wish.”
“You’re giving in because I have morning-after regrets?”
“I’m ‘giving in’ because you crossed the point I wanted you to with your magic.”
I scoffed and rolled away. “Bullshit. I can make water drops appear in the air. Somehow I doubt that’s the life-or-death difference needed on this mission.”
“The life-or-death factor here is that you can control a fine portion of your magic now. I needed that to happen before I felt comfortable on this venture. I couldn’t risk your emotions flaring and creating a storm that might kill us. Now, you may very well still have some sort of magical breakdown, but I believe your current skills will go far to at least minimize the impact.”
“Then what you said before—about it being protection in case I was defenseless…”
“Yes. I’m afraid that was a ruse. I’d hoped the thought might spur you on to try harder.”
Typical Dorian. His absurdity made me half-smile.
“You’re happier now?” he asked.
“I don’t know if happy is the right word, but I will be when the Jasmine thing is over.”
“Excellent. Come here.”
He motioned me into his outstretched arm, and for a moment, I expected an advance. Like a
Hey, baby, I’ll make you happier
type thing. I moved over tentatively, and he only put his arms around me. Just that simple. No jokes. No kinkiness. Just a simple embrace between two people, two people close enough to have rattled the headboard last night. I took comfort in it, relaxing into his warmth and security. He wasn’t Kiyo, but he felt nice.
At last he moved his face away so he could look at me. “Very well, then. Tell me how you would like this to unfold.”
Staging another heist turned out to take a fair bit of planning and didn’t actually unfold until later the next day. We assembled all three of my minions in one of Dorian’s lounges. They waited patiently for orders, each watching me as their minds undoubtedly stirred with their assorted neuroses. As Volusian had once pointed out, they had little to lose. They couldn’t die. When Dorian called in Shaya to join us, I couldn’t help an exclamation of surprise.
“Remember the distraction we discussed?” he asked me.
I did. Before getting out of bed, we had come up with the tentative outline of a plan. Part of it had included a major distraction near Aeson’s home, enough to draw the attention of his guard so we could enter undetected. My spirits had long since verified that the siege tunnel had been blocked off.
Shaya, he explained, would be our distraction. She had the power to command small ranges of vegetation. In particular, she could summon and order around trees—something she’d apparently done before to great effect. Dorian’s thought was that Shaya would have a small regiment of said trees attack the western side of Aeson’s hold. On the eastern side, we knew there was a servants’ entrance we could slip into. Normally, that would be too exposed but not if the castle’s security was preoccupied elsewhere.
I nodded, thinking it was a good plan. Shaya crossed her arms and looked thoroughly displeased.
“You got a problem with it?”
“I don’t think it’s our place to interfere with Aeson’s affairs, nor do I feel this is worth risking my king’s life over.”
I glanced between her and Dorian uneasily. “So you won’t do it?”
“Of course I will. My king gives a command, and I obey. I am merely expressing my honest opinion first. I would be doing a disservice otherwise.”
Dorian touched her cheek, smiling at her stern expression. “And that is why you are so valued.”
“It’s a bad idea,” said Finn suddenly.
We all turned to him.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“What’s a few trees? It screams, ‘Hey, look at our obvious distraction.’ It’ll make them suspicious. You want to really get their attention, send him in.” He inclined his head toward Dorian. “A little bit of that rock mojo, and they’ll think there’s an all-out assault going on.”
“We can’t. I need him as my backup,” I argued, “and protection for Jasmine. Shaya can do her thing and get out of there quickly. If I go in without him, then we’re in exactly the same situation as before.”
“Except without the army waiting for you,” said Finn.
Shaya shook her head, glossy black braids swinging. “I don’t like the idea of my king left alone.”
“He’ll be in and out, no problem. And if he has to face off, he can take anything Aeson’s people throw at him.”
“Unless it’s Aeson himself,” mused Dorian.
“Is he stronger than you?” I asked.
“We’re very evenly matched.”
“Huh. That surprises me. I mean, Kiyo walked away alive from a fight with him.”
“King Aeson wasn’t using his full power then,” said Nandi. “Most likely he feared burning down his home.” Seeing my startled look, she continued. “It would have created a terrible inferno from whence you would not have escaped. Your skin would have melted, only your bones left behind.”
“So you’re saying he wouldn’t have to worry about that outdoors. He could unleash as much as he liked.” Something struck me, and I turned back to Dorian. “What about you? Are you limited indoors?”
“Hypothetically, no. Realistically? Well…I still have to operate in a way that won’t bury us alive.” He smiled, seeing my consternation. “Don’t worry, my dear. I’ll still be of use to you.”
“More use outside,” said Finn. “We won’t even need extra backup, not if nobody’s inside to find us.”
I sighed and rubbed my eyes. I’d walked into Aeson’s with a lot less planning last time, and foolish or not, it had been a hell of a lot simpler than this. I turned to the room’s darkest corner, which had been silent thus far.
“Volusian?”
He straightened up from where he’d slouched in the shadows. “I will be very surprised if we emerge from this without any sort of confrontation, regardless of who creates the initial distraction. If I must honestly answer what will keep you alive”—he sighed, obviously unhappy about that outcome. I suspected Nandi’s horrific description of my death by fire had kindled warm and fuzzy feelings in him—“then yes, bringing the Oak King affords more protection for you and the girl, mistress.”
“Then it’s settled.”
Finn pouted and turned his back on us, pacing around sulkily.
After that, it simply became a matter of waiting. We wanted to go under cover of darkness. Dorian and Shaya left to pursue household duties, and the spirits flitted off to do whatever it was they did. This left me with a lot of downtime. I paced the castle’s grounds, ruminating over the same old things: Kiyo, the upcoming raid, and the prophecy.
The appointed time came, and our strike team reassembled for a few last-minute details. Most of it was simply a repetition of what we already knew. The spirits drifted along, but the rest of us set out on horseback. Shaya rode with the physical grace that permeated her normal movements, but I was surprised to see how agilely Dorian rode as well. He seemed so languid and comfort-oriented in his day-to-day affairs that I never thought of him as having athletic abilities, his feats in bed notwithstanding.
We crisscrossed the assorted kingdoms. It seemed to take longer than last time, and Volusian affirmed as much for me.
“The land has shifted its layout,” he explained.
“It does that,” said Dorian, seeing the panic on my face. “It’s normal. We’re on the right path.”
“Yeah, but will we make it there before sunrise?”
“Certainly.”
He smiled too broadly, and I could tell he didn’t know for sure. I looked up. Right now we had perfect blackness, lit only by stars. The moon was dark tonight. Persephone’s moon. I could feel the tingle of the butterfly on my arm and felt reassured. Before, I’d needed Hecate to escape back to my own world. Here, that wasn’t an issue. Staying alive and sending my enemies on to death was the issue now, so I didn’t mind the boost to my connection with the Underworld.
“How much farther?” I asked a little while later. I felt like a kid on a road trip but couldn’t help the anxiety tickling my brain. I might have imagined it, but I swore the eastern sky now looked deep purple rather than black.
“Not far,” said Shaya, voice calm.
Sure enough, we pulled off and secured the horses, going the rest of the way on foot, traveling through trees and undergrowth. I couldn’t see anything, but we soon reached some significant point. Shaya split off from us to do her thing. Dorian squeezed her arm before she left, and she made a solemn bow of acknowledgment. I watched her disappear before I turned and joined the others to continue straight ahead.
Aeson’s fortress finally loomed up before us as we reached the edge of the tree line. It could really be perceived only through its blockage of the stars. Otherwise, it appeared almost as black as the sky beyond. We stopped just before the terrain cleared, staying under cover. Studying the building further, I could make out small black figures moving back and forth in front of the wall. Guards. Presumably there were lookouts on the towers too.
“Now we wait,” I muttered. I was tired of waiting. I wanted action.