Chapter 16

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

I settle into the bathtub, letting the warm water lap over my body. Breathing in the fragrant steam, I rest my head against the metallic tub, and close my eyes. In all the years I spent in captivity, a hot bath was one of the things I often fantasised. Back then it seemed so far out of my reach. The cold-water basins, often frozen in winter, and the cheap soap were all I ever got to clean myself. Sometimes I was given an old sponge, and I remember feeling like I'd been handed a pot of gold.

But this—this beautiful, luxury bath that can be drawn at my command—is unlike what I could have imagined. After riding my very own dragon, and then Erax, my aching bones have needed this. I sink down until my hair floats around me.

Through my bond, I can feel Freyren at rest, exhausted after her first time flying. It blows my mind to think she was only born a few hours ago. Although the magic allowed her to grow, she still has a lot of maturing to do, and heaps more growing according to Zepheira. That worries me since she already looks bigger than some of the other dragons.

Just how big will my dragon grow?

A knock on the door startles me. "Yes?"

No response.

"Erax?"

If it is Erax, he's determined to make me drag myself out of this lovely bath.

"Gods above!"

I grumble under my breath as I stand in the water and reach for my bathrobe. I wrap it around my body, pulling the tie tight. He's lucky I got to enjoy my bath for a good fifteen minutes before he returned. Why is he back so soon anyway? Now that our honeymoon period is officially over, he said he had several duties to tend to, and he told me to spend the rest of my day resting. I was just beginning to feel rested.

"I hope you come bearing food. I'm so hungry I could eat a dragon."

I squeeze my hair with another towel and make my way to the bathroom door.

The towel slips through my fingers when I open it and see who's on the other side.

It's not Erax. It's not even a servant. It's?—

"Lochlan!"

I leap into his arms. He catches me, my wet face pressing against his gold chestplate. The same armour the guard's wear.

"Why are you dressed as a guard?" I ask, looking up at him.

Lochlan pulls away but keeps his hands on my arms. "It was the only way I could get in." That familiar lopsided grin stretches over his face. "Missed me?"

My eyes well with tears.

"Loch, you have no idea how much I've missed you. There's so much I need to tell you!" And ask him. Why did he go back? Is Noble truly his brother? My reflection gleams at me from his armour, making me pause. This isn't just any armour. It's the kingsguard armour. "How did you get this?"

"Dasinth. He brought it with him after the feast and asked me to bring you this. Seems after all these years he's had a change of heart."

I look down at the sealed envelope in his hands. "A letter?"

My uncle has never written to me. I wonder what he wrote that he couldn't have said in person. Before I take the letter from him, I look up at Lochlan. His face looks tired, and in the time, we've been separated, it's like he's aged several years. I can't imagine any of this has been easy on him either. Sister Gabriella probably put him through hell when I left.

"Did they hurt you?" I whisper, a familiar pain clenching my stomach.

He shakes his head. "Don't worry about me. Now open the letter."

Giving him the side-eye, I decide to do as he says. I want to know what's inside too. I slide my nail under the wax to break the seal and pull out the contents.

"It isn't a letter," I say, withdrawing a small painting. My eyes sting again. "It's a portrait—of my parents."

With the words Do not forget written under them in my uncle's hand. The corners of the painting remain blackened, scorched from the fire that ravaged our home. They're so young in this portrait. So happy. The tears that slip from my eyes splash my mother's face and my father's chest. I don't recall them ever smiling like this. It must have been painted before I was born. I turn the painting around, checking if my uncle has written anything else, but only those three words remain.

"Do not forget…" I turn to Lochlan. "What do you think it means?"

I tuck the painting into my robe. It's not like I could ever forget my parents. Or what Erax did to them.

"I think Dasinth wants you to remember there are still people loyal to your family," he replies, "and that you're not alone in this." He then reaches out to gently wipe a strand of wet hair from my temple, cupping my chin with his other hand. "You never were alone, Lena."

The muscles in my chest tighten. Something about the way Lochlan is looking at me feels strange. For the first time in my life, his touch makes me to pull away. The door is still open and if someone sees us… I shudder to think what Erax would do.

Through our bond, my dragon bristles, also feeling uneasy.

Mine . Erax's words invade my mind all over again. You're mine .

"Loch—"

My words are stolen as Lochlan's mouth crashes upon my own. His lips press firmly against mine as his hands twist through my hair, pulling me back to him. I tense my body, but I don't fight him. In my shock and confusion, I let him pull me in, and for the briefest of moments, I close my eyes, neither willing nor reluctant to return his kiss.

I would be lying if I said I never wondered what it would be like to kiss Lochlan.

Lochlan, the boy who eased my suffering at the convent with his kindness. Lochlan, who grew into the man that tried to help me escape and win my freedom from the cage that bound us. Once or twice, I wondered what his lips would feel like against mine and if my heart would beat so loud it would erupt from my chest. As his tongue slips past my lips, my heart doesn't beat.

It sinks.

This kiss doesn't just feel strange. It feels wrong.

I push my hands against his armour, but Lochlan's grip tightens, his fingers digging into my arms. Then all of a sudden, he stops, and in his shadow stands Erax watching us. His body seems to swallow up the entire doorway as he stands there.

Panic flares through me and I step back quickly. "Erax, this isn't what you think."

Erax says nothing and keeps his eyes on Lochlan. The fact he says nothing scares me more than if he did speak. I know Erax is possessive of me, not only because I'm his wife, but because I'm his queen too. And he just found his queen kissing another man.

"This is my friend Lochlan," I say quickly, as my body starts to shake.

Erax sweeps into the room with quick, heavy strides. "Then by all means continue as you were with your friend . Don't let me stop you." He drops into the armchair by the dresser and grips the arm rests, raising his leg over his right knee. "I'm really fucking curious to see how this plays out."

His eyes latch onto me while Lochlan glares at him. He doesn't bow or even acknowledge him as his king. He sizes Erax up like a predator would their prey. All the while, Erax looks at me like I'm about to be devoured by him.

"Go on." He gives a quick, dismissive wave of his hand. "You have about three minutes before my guards drag that little fucker down to my Keep."

"Your Majes?—"

Erax cuts Lochlan off with a single look. Just a look, a mere tilt of his head, and any words that needed to be said are conveyed with deafening profoundness. Erax wants blood.

Lochlan's eyes flick down to the floor, and I'm suddenly reminded of the boy I knew at the convent, the quiet, submissive Lochlan who paled in Sister Gabriella's presence. Reality is sinking in for the both of us now.

I touch his arm gently and try to pull him behind me. Erax zones in on the placement of my hand, and his gaze darkens. In the blink of an eye, he's barrelling into Lochlan, tackling him to the ground. I'm knocked to the side, my hip banging into the side of the dresser, while Erax's fist repeatedly slams down into Lochlan's face.

Everything happens so fast, I'm barely able to plead with him to stop.

I try to manoeuvre myself between them, but the guards charging into the room hold me back. I'm forced to watch as Erax beats Lochlan to a pulp. He doesn't fight back. He just lays there, taking hit after hit, his fate sealed.

"Please, Erax!" I sob his name out, trying to twist myself free of the guards. "Let him go. Please, just let him go!"

Erax only lets Lochlan go once he's lost consciousness. Panting heavily, he stands and looks at me. His face is splashed with Lochlan's blood and the crazed look in his eyes is unlike anything I have seen in a human before. It's feral. Animalistic.

"Take him to the Keep," he orders, stepping over Lochlan's body, "and get your hands off my wife."

His guards release me. Quickly they follow his orders: they drag Lochlan to his feet and haul him from the room. I hear him groan though I barely see Lochlan through the tears clouding my vision. I caused this. If I had pulled away from him sooner Erax might never have seen and none of this would have happened. This is all my fault.

For a painfully long moment, the room is quiet. Erax thrusts open the drink cabinet by the window and pulls out a half empty bottle. He knocks back several mouthfuls and then breathes a sigh, as if he's just finished a long day tending his royal duties. As if he hadn't just nearly beaten my friend to death.

I let my tears fall, letting the pain behind them turn into anger.

"He was my friend."

"He's a traitor," Erax spits. "And, if I'm not mistaken, he's the friend who tried to help you escape.'

"Tried to free me, yes."

I immediately regret saying that. Erax is already intent on killing, and I just handed him a knife with those words. He glares at me.

"Free you?" He scoffs, then, in one impossibly swift movement, pushes me up against the wall. His huge body pins me underneath him and his face comes within inches of mine, his breath fanning my cheeks. Slowly he runs his knuckles down my cheek, stained with Lochlan's blood. "What about now, Mist? Do you still long for freedom?" His hand falls between my legs, and I gasp when he caresses me. A cruel smile works its way over his lips. "You certainly didn't last night when I made you come so hard you screamed my name."

"Erax, stop?—"

"Oh, I'm just getting started, and it seems, my beautiful wife, so are you."

His smile grows wider when I suddenly moan. I try to close my legs, but Erax forces them open with his knee. I've never seen him so angry—his eyes so dark and hateful and yet beautiful at the same time. It frightens me. It also makes my body shiver against him as unbidden desire rises through me.

"In the old days, the king would have your head for what you just did," Erax whispers. "Or lock you in a dungeon and let you rot there for the rest of your life."

His fingers gently caress me, teasing and gliding over my sensitive area. His smile grows even more wider and cruel when he pushes inside and takes in how wet I am. I can't help it, and we both know deep down I don't want to. "I could feed you to my dragon for treason," he breathes, "and our entire kingdom would watch." He eases his fingers in and out, his eyes never leaving me. "But I'd rather feed your friend to her, and make you watch as I fuck you in front of them."

"Please…" I gasp out another moan as he rubs my sensitive spot with his thumb. "Just stop, Erax!"

He stops. As if the darkness with him is melting away, Erax withdraws his hand and pulls away from between my legs. He keeps his other hand on my wrists pinned above my head though, and when he leans in, his eyes are still incinerating.

"Don't ever … do that again."

"It wasn't what you?—"

"Ever," he growls, grabbing my throat, "again. Or so help me, Maelena, I will burn every man who looks at you. Do you understand?"

His dilated pupils reflect my image back to me, and I'm surrounded by flames that swirl in his eyes. His dragon is just as angry and possessive as him. I didn't mean for any of this to happen. I certainly didn't mean for Lochlan to kiss me. Although it felt so wrong when he did, like kissing a brother. It felt nothing like when I kiss Erax, and my soul feels like it's on fire.

I nod at him, unable to breathe let alone speak.

"Good." Erax lets me go. "Now if your friend would like to keep his head, he better not come back here, or I'll rip it off with my bare fucking hands. Is that understood?"

Again, I nod, my body still trembling from the fear and desire he wrought upon me. Erax pulls away. He adjusts his clothes, sweeps a hand through his hair, then he turns and makes for the door.

"Where are you going?" I whisper, even though I know the answer.

The fact Erax doesn't reply confirms it. He's going to the Keep.

As he slams the door behind him, I reach into my pocket. My hands shaking, I hold the picture of my parents as more tears splash their faces, this time for different reasons. No, I will not forget. Just like I won't forget all the terrible things Erax has done since he burned my world to ash.

I will never forgive him, but I hate the way my legs beg me to go after my king.