Chapter 22

CHAPTER 22

Strength abandons me and I fall out of my crouch, my rear meeting the cool earth as shock weighs down my shoulders. You shouldn't be surprised , a soft voice scolds from the back of my mind, this is what they told you he was . No…I'm not surprised at Conri. I'm surprised at myself. Even if I told myself I was indulging him for the purpose of manipulation, I was actually falling for his charm.

"Do you think she will catch on to your intentions?" Weylyn asks.

"No, she thinks herself clever, but I have her right where I want her. I'll let her believe she's in control until it's too late," Conri says nonchalantly.

"And if she doesn't follow your plans?" Drena asks.

"That is what he has me for," Bardulf speaks, sounding a little too excited. "Her presence is already an insult enough; it would be my honor to remove her stain from our lands."

A light touch on my elbow pulls me from the conversation. Weylyn is saying something else but my attention is back outside the tent. On Evander, who is gently wrapping his fingers around my arm and pulling me up.

I allow him to guide me back through camp. Conri was right. I thought I had control. But, in reality, I was a puppet, dancing under Conri's fingers. Now my strings are cut and I am limp under Evander's grip.

As the camp blurs around us, my daze slowly turns to rage. That gives my mind sharpness and clarity again. The only thing that has changed is I now know, without doubt, that there can never be reasoning with Conri. Aurora and Evander were right. I should be thanking Conri for removing any doubt or second thoughts surrounding my path forward.

By the time we reach Evander's tent, slipping through the flap and into the darkness, my thoughts are moving again. I take the two steps the tent can afford me to reach the back wall. Turn, walk back to Evander, turn, and repeat. Pacing.

Evander tries to speak. "He does not?—"

"Care for me?" I make a noise of disgust. "That much is obvious." I stop, my back to Evander. Fists clenching. "You know, I didn't think he cared for me. Not really. But I had thought that maybe he would respect me enough that we could work together toward a common goal. That perhaps time had worn him down, fear over Aurora's loss had shown him vulnerability and he wasn't quite the man you both knew… That he could be?—"

"Reasoned with?" It's Evander's turn to finish my sentence. "Conri doesn't know the meaning of those words. It's his way or nothing. By resisting him, even daring to try, you committed a cardinal sin for which there is no forgiveness." Even though he speaks at barely a whisper, Evander's voice grows louder as he draws near. He comes to a stop right behind me and I think he is about to rest a hand on my shoulder, but it must be my imagination, as a touch never comes. "I am sorry you had to find out that way. But I couldn't let you go on thinking there was hope for an alliance with him. Not when I learned of his plans."

"The only thing I am sorry for is that I was gullible enough to give him the benefit of the doubt." Rage, not sorrow, softens my voice.

"Hoping for reason and seeing the best in people are hallmarks of a good heart. They're not a reason to be upset with yourself."

Perhaps he's right, but in this moment I'm searing the truth into my mind with a red-hot branding iron. I will never forget this lesson.

"Thank you for taking me there," I say. "I needed to know. Now I will fight him with all I am."

"Good. Because he's going to do everything in his power to ensure that you will continue to fall for him."

"That I will still be in the palm of his hand." I hatefully paraphrase his words.

"For Conri, admitting his charm isn't working would be akin to a loss of his manhood. It'd make a fool of him."

Has anything ever sounded better than the mere idea of making a fool of an egotistical king? I think not. My fingers relax and my head tips back slightly as I bring my gaze from the lower wall to the ceiling of the tent. It's washed in a pale haze from the growing moon. I've been here nearly two weeks. Enough time for the moon to swell to almost its apex.

Aurora's might grows in tandem with the heavenly body. Perhaps that is what is feeding my boldness. Or this fiery resolve is all my own. A strength cultivated out of necessity, nurtured by the wisdom and sorcery that was gifted to me by my mother and grandmother, that was hard won across every triumph and setback across my years. Seeds from which my power continues to blossom.

"I think I would like to do that," I whisper.

"Do what?" Evander sounds legitimately confused.

"Make a fool of him." The words taste delicious.

Evander does grab my shoulder now, turning me to look me in the eyes. His brows are furrowed. Shoulders pulling with tension. I feel his fingertips well into my flesh through my cloak and shirt.

"Did you not learn anything?" he growls. "Challenging Conri is a deadly game."

"So I am to give in to him?" I lift my own brows and tilt my head slightly. "Just allow him to do with me as he pleases until my use to him expires?" I chuckle softly and shake my head. Evander's expression only darkens. "That's not going to happen."

"You need to keep your head about you."

"I agree." I rest my hand on his chest lightly. The sculpted contour of his pectoral fits seamlessly into my palm, like proof our forms were designed to complement one another. Even through the thin shirt he wears, I can feel every curve of his rock-hard muscle. A playful little smile dances upon my lips. Enough with holding back. I look up at him through my lashes with purpose. "That's why I need your help."

"Of course." He steps backward, ready to move away as he has all the other nights.

I catch Evander's wrist with my left hand and bring his attention back to me, my right palm still against his skin. My heart is pounding with such force that my breathing quickens. But nerves aren't the cause…it's anticipation. Excitement. I've thought about this enough times that it is a relief to imagine it finally coming to pass. "I need…more."

His lips part slightly. Body relaxes. Shock only, I hope, and not disgust at my obvious implication.

"If you're willing to give it," I hastily add, hoping that was already assumed.

"You want to…" The words are so breathy and faint that they fade completely by the end.

"I want you to help make it so that I do not think of Conri. I want to—need to be satisfied in a way that I have not been in years."

He searches my face. "Have you known many men?"

"Not many. But enough that I assure you I will not be a disappointment." I take a small step forward, our bodies nearly flush. "Enough to know what I'm doing and what I'm asking. I don't go in blindly, or in haste."

Evander chuckles deeply. "Not in haste? How is moving on me to spite the man who you just learned is laying plans to kill you anything but haste?" He shakes his head and pulls away. The palm that was on his chest grabs the night air, icy after touching him. "I will not be a thing for you to use."

"You're more than that," I blurt. He stops, but doesn't turn back to face me. I instantly regret this choice to try and persuade him. I should have let the matter drop.

"Why?"

I have to tell him. Not just for the sake of trying to convince him, but because he has a right to know what I've been doing. Especially if it is something that he would prefer I stop. Given how he's acting, he might find the idea nauseating.

"Because…" I gather all the courage I'd just found. Don't leave me now , I silently beg that braver side of me. "Because you are the only thing that has allowed me to break free of him."

"Yes, and you can still do what you need here."

"That's not what I mean. Evander, you—I think of you."

"What?" he whispers, finally turning to face me once more. Evander searches my expression.

"Every time I've had to resist Conri's charms. Even when he is right there, exerting all his effort and magic to try and claim me, if I bring you to the front of my mind then all thoughts of him vanish." As I speak, Evander's expression is impossible to read. But it isn't one of disgust. So I dare to continue, hoping that perhaps he believes what I'm saying. "I've fantasized about you every single time these past two weeks. I tried to think of someone else—of my past partners, of a man I fabricated entirely in my imagination. But none of them worked. None of them could cut through the haze of his charm. Except you."

"You're saying…" It's his turn to approach me. And the strong glide of his hips through the air, the sway to his shoulders, the movement is more like a prowl than a step. "That when you lie there, pleasuring yourself…that when he is whispering in your ear and attempting to exert every bit of his magic force upon you…you think of me?"

I manage a small nod. My throat has gone thick with anticipation as he condenses the space between us into nothing but buzzing heat.

"Tell me," he commands, stopping just shy of touching me. Having him this unbearably close has me aware of every inch of exposed skin that yearns to be touched. Every hair stands on end. Touch me , I want to scream, to beg. "Tell me everything you've thought of."

"I thought of…you, and me…"

"Oh, Faelyn." He chuckles darkly. The man is enjoying this. If the torture weren't so delightful, I might resent him for it. Evander hooks my chin with his fingers, guiding my face to his. But he does not kiss me. His lips hover just off mine. "You have to give me more detail than that, or I might misunderstand."

"I think of you, touching me." My words quiver slightly.

"More." Evander's other hand grazes up my thigh, to my hip, hooking on my shirt and slipping under it. With the heel of his palm, he smooths his hand over my waist. An involuntary gasp escapes me at the sensation of his touch. My lids grow heavy and hazy, as if I am drunk off the sensations of him. "Tell me more. Give me every, last, vivid detail."

"I've thought of you with your hand where mine is as I pleasure myself. Nibbling on my ear, whispering of how you will ravage my body. You, hot and naked beside me, my hands on your length. Of you between my legs—your face and your hips. I've fantasized about you mounting me like a beast and relentlessly pounding into me. Taking me. And I've imagined you kissing me with all the tenderness of the world." The words come bursting forth; every fantasy and half-baked daydream is rushing out of me as if this is my one and only chance to speak them into existence.

Evander leans forward, expression still unreadable. He tilts his head, cheek brushing against mine as he whispers into my ear, "And how do I taste?"

My knees have turned to jelly. I quiver, not knowing how much longer I'll be able to stand. I doubt it will be very long, if he keeps this up. I want to melt into him. To collapse into this vortex of passion that has opened at our feet, threatening to swallow me whole.

"In my fantasies, you taste as sweet as you are forbidden."

"And do I leave you satisfied, yet yearning for more?"

"Always," I breathe.

He pulls away, locking eyes with mine. "Good. Then I shall have no problem living up to these desires of yours."

I don't have time to respond before he claims my words and my thoughts with his mouth.