Chapter 32

32

H e doesn't speak as he gathers me in his arms and treks across the grassland to the lighthouse. He walks slowly, taking one stair at a time until he reaches the third floor of the lighthouse.

"The dogs…" I croak.

"They are fine. You , are not," he states in a tight voice.

I don't have the energy to argue, so I let him take me to our room.

He pushes the door open, but instead of placing me on the bed, he takes me to the bathroom, closing the door behind us. He deposits me on the floor of the shower stall. Discarding his clothes until he remains in his underpants, he steps inside the stall with me and crouches down in front of me.

"Barbs," he murmurs my name softly.

I bring my knees to my chest, trembling from the residual adrenaline. My physical wounds have healed. The ones that cut me deep in my soul, however, are bleeding invisible blood.

"May I undress you?"

I slowly glance up, meeting his gaze.

I wonder what he sees. Blood stains my exposed skin. My clothes are in tatters, torn and slashed in the same pattern as my now healed injuries. My face is streaked with blood and tears and an indescribable feeling of loss. I am quite the sight, am I not?

I give him a tentative nod.

He reaches for the hem of my shirt, gently pulling it up. I lift my hands to aid him, and he throws it on the bathroom floor.

A shiver goes down my back as he takes in the streaks of blood on my chest. I'm not wearing a bra, and this is the first time he's ever seen me naked.

My cheeks heat up as I cross my arm over my chest to shield my breasts.

His hands move to the band of my pants, his gaze meeting mine as he waits for my approval.

I lift my butt, wiggling from side to side to allow him to slide my pants and my panties down my legs.

He throws them outside the stall, too.

Now, I am completely bare before him.

I hug my knees and look away.

"Barbi," he calls softly. "You are safe with me, sweet thing. I will not hurt you. Do you understand that?"

He tips my chin up, forcing me to meet his gaze.

"Do you understand?"

I nod.

"Good. I will clean you up now, sweetie. May I touch you?"

Another nod.

He takes the shower head and tests the temperature of the water. Satisfied when it's not too hot nor too cold, he glides the jet over my body. The green water mixes with the red of my blood, and I stare down at the dark yellow water that accumulates around my body.

"They…" I swallow. "They peed on me."

The shower head drops from his hand to the ground. He stares at me, his eyes swirling a dark gray. His nostrils flare as he inhales and exhales, all the while never taking his eyes off me.

"Come here," he says as he pulls me into his arms.

He holds me close, skin to skin, his fingers gliding down my back in a soothing gesture.

"I am so incredibly sorry, sweet thing," he whispers. "You cannot imagine how sorry I am."

I flatten my lips, holding in a sob as I tighten my arms around him.

"Let me wash you," he murmurs. "Let me wipe everything away."

He turns me around, bringing the shower over my head and wetting my hair. His touch is soft and gentle as he washes the dirt away. He massages my scalp with slow, deliberate movements, and I let out a sigh of relief as I lean into him.

"You are doing great, sweetie," he murmurs approvingly in my ear. My eyes close as I let him take over.

He rinses my hair thoroughly before he lathers soap onto his palms and brings them to my body. He works the soap into my skin, cleansing every bit of those men's touch away.

Slowly, my fear dissipates until I feel comfortable letting go. My body relaxes, slumping against him as I allow him to touch every inch of my skin.

Despite the intimate way in which he is touching me, there is no discomfort. He does his best to put me at ease, keeping his touches clinical. He's seeing me fully naked for the first time, but I find no disconcerting lust in his eyes, only worry and affection. He handles me like a prized possession, and my heart silently weeps, thankful for him but still shaken by his absence.

Yet despite my disappointment, I want to understand why he couldn't come. I want to know what happened to him and why he wasn't there when I needed him—why he didn't answer my calls.

The soap foams all over my body, the yellow water slowly becoming green again as the blood floats away. He rinses my body gently before he wraps me in his arms and takes me out of the shower. Grabbing a towel, he wraps it around me, drying me off before swathing me in it so I am warm and comfortable. Only then does he do the same to his own body.

Wrapped tightly in the towel, he carries me to the bed. He pulls the covers and places me gently on the clean sheets.

"Are you thirsty? Hungry?" he asks as he watches me with worry in his gaze.

"Water, please," I whisper.

He nods. In a matter of seconds, he's back with a jug of water. He takes a seat on the bed next to me and brings the jug to my lips, helping me drink. I gulp down greedily, my thirst seemingly uncontrollable.

I am hungry, too. But I don't think I can eat just yet. Not when the images from before continue to play in my head, threatening to make me sick.

"What else do you need? Say the word and I'll give it to you."

I purse my lips, slowly shaking my head.

"Please, Barbs. You are breaking my heart, sweetie. Tell me what I can do to help."

I don't know what kind of answer he wants, but it is not one I can provide.

Placing the empty jug by the bed, he shuffles closer to me. His palm curves along my cheek, his thumb caressing my skin softly.

"Look at me, Barbs. Look at me, baby," he whispers in an anguished voice.

I bite my lip as I gaze up.

His features are tight and wrought with pain. But how can I ease his pain when mine is ready to spill over?

He leans in, pressing his forehead to mine and breathing me in deeply.

"I am sorry," he apologizes again. "I am so, so sorry."

His lips brush against my nose and cheeks before he aims for my mouth. Something in me rebels and I turn around, avoiding the contact.

He freezes.

I take a deep breath and push him away.

"I would like to go to sleep," I whisper.

He stares at me numbly before slowly nodding.

I lie down and pull the covers over my body.

Nyk stands up, still watching me with befuddlement. When I don't give him attention, he goes around the bed and slides in, sticking to his side.

Silence descends between us.

There's nothing more I wish than to have him hug me and tell me that everything will be all right—that it will all be okay. But it's not. And I don't know how to make sense of this.

Moments on end pass. My eyes are closed as I seek that elusive sleep. It beckons me, only to shut the door in my face when my mind replays the horrific images from before.

Tears cling to my lashes and I desperately blink them away, not wanting Nykander to see or hear my sobs.

"You are shutting me out, Barbs, and I do not like it," he says in a gruff voice.

A frisson goes down my back at the emotion echoing in those words.

"Tell me," I speak softly. "Tell me everything, Nyk. Why did you not come when I called?"

He takes a deep breath. The seconds in which he does not speak are seconds in which the gulf between us widens. A chasm opens in my heart as I wait with bated breath for him to justify himself and his actions.

I want— need —him to give me a reason. Otherwise, I will go crazy with all these maddening thoughts and suppositions.

"I did not mean to be away for so long," he starts, his tone weary. "I found a way inside the Jubal palace. That palace is one of the most guarded places in Tartareia and I could not miss the chance."

"The soldiers mentioned the House of Jubal too; that this is their territory and I was trespassing."

"That is correct. The lighthouse is under their jurisdiction. The House of Jubal owns the entire land in northern Sattoriya and vast parts of the realm. Together with three other houses, they are the direct descendants of the Seven and the current ruling power of the Tartareia," he explains.

"But why would you go there? You said you were investigating your family and?—"

"The House of Jubal is my family," he cuts me off.

I frown. Why am I only hearing about this now?

"But that… That makes you… Tartareian royalty?" I swallow.

He grunts.

"I do not have a title since I am the second born. My brother currently holds the title of Duke of v'Kyró. The House of Jubal has several branches, and a few of them have royal titles. In Tartareia, the most important position you could have is a royal title, which is why people have been fighting for them from the creation of the Sons of Tenebreis."

"Oh," I murmur.

Why am I only hearing about this now?

"The Jubal palace is not a residence," he continues. "It is an official building from wherein the House of Jubal conducts its affairs. It is the place where all the extended branches of the house come together to discuss matters of policy and hegemony. Because of that, it is close to impossible to get near it, which is what I have been trying to achieve for the past weeks. I found a way in by disguising myself as a merchant, but I could not stay long. The palace not only has runes in place that inhibit the use of powers, but it also has top-notch surveillance. The moment I stepped inside the palace, Barbs…"

He takes a deep breath. "I had no control over my abilities. I couldn't feel your call. I couldn't even feel your injuries. But as soon as I realized you were in danger, I rushed to your side. Please believe me."

I digest his words, hugging the pillow to my chest.

It's not his fault, is it? He did not know—he couldn't have known. But though the logical side of me understands this information, there is another part of me, a primal one, that continues to be wrecked by a deep disappointment.

"Did you find anything?" I eventually ask.

"I did." He nods. "The House of Jubal is hosting a ball next week at the palace. For my sister's engagement," he adds in a tight voice.

"Oh, Nyk…"

"It is her second one, it seems. Her first husband died under mysterious circumstances a few thousand years ago and she has just come out of her mourning period. It appears my brother did not waste any time in finding her another husband," he adds angrily.

"What do you plan on doing?" I turn around to regard him, sliding closer and reveling in the heat emanating from his body.

"I will go to the ball," he states staunchly. "It is a masquerade-themed ball, so I should be able to get around undetected. The only issue is that because it is an official affair, the runes on that day will be more powerful than ever to prevent any unwanted incidents."

"Unwanted incidents?" I frown.

A wry smile tips at his lips.

"This is Tartareia, Barbs. The land of the wicked. Just because we are family does not mean we do not kill each other. In the name of power, everyone betrays everyone. It is why the palace is considered neutral ground for such events."

"I see." I nod. "I will come with you," I declare.

"You do not have to come." He shakes his head. "After what happened today…"

"After what happened today more than ever. I will not stay behind anymore, Nyk. Just thinking about calling out to you and waiting for you with no response fills me with dread. Where you go, I go," I tell him confidently.

He stares at me. A slow smile appears on his face.

"Where I go, you go. I like the sound of that."

"If no one is allowed to use their powers, then I will be far safer there," I continue to make my case. "And maybe I can be of some help too."

He nods pensively.

"I might need a distraction while I go in search of my brother."

"Do you plan on killing him there? With no powers?"

"Tempting, but no." He chuckles. "I would never take the easy way out. When I kill him, I want everyone to see I did it on my own. No tricks. I merely want to gather some information. It has been seven thousand years. The brother I know is bound to have changed somewhat."

"I see." I nod. "I will help you as much as I can. They don't know who I am anyway."

"How are you so sweet?" he murmurs as he reaches for me. "I failed you and you still offer to help me." He smiles. "You have a beautiful soul, Barbs. Far more beautiful than I deserve."

He cups my cheek in his big hand, and I nestle closer, closing my eyes and breathing him in.

"I cannot help it," I whisper, tears trickling down my cheeks. "You are my weakness, Nyk. I don't know what that says about me, but I could forgive you anything."

"Anything?" he asks, raising his brow.

"Anything."

He studies me for a moment, an odd expression descending upon his features. Leaning in, he presses his lips to my cheeks, catching those errant tears with his tongue. His mouth seeks my own, and this time, I give in to the kiss, allowing him to pull me to his chest. His tongue delves deep into my mouth, meeting mine and beginning a mating dance as old as time.

I cling to him, digging my nails into his shoulder.

"Let me erase everything," he whispers. "Let me replace the bad memories with good ones."

I don't know what he's asking exactly, but I find myself nodding.

He trails his lips down my chin, sucking my skin in his mouth. His fangs graze the sensitive skin of my neck in his exploration, but he doesn't bite me. He draws only a few drops of blood, and he licks them languidly off my skin.

In one smooth move, he splays me on my back, kicking the covers aside and looming over me. With one hand, he unknots my towel, leaving me bare to his sight.

The wind brushes against my naked skin, and a shiver goes down my back.

"Let me see you," he murmurs.

I look uncertainly in his eyes. They're the darkest black, signaling his lust—his need for me.

My pulse quickens. My breathing hitches in anticipation of his next move.

He trails his gaze all over my body, smiling appreciatively.

"You are so beautiful. So perfect for me," he says as he leans in to lay a kiss on my mark.

A scorching heat envelops me, and I tremble at the feel of his lips atop my chest.

" My beautiful girl," he continues. Slowly, he glides his lips over my breasts, opening his mouth and dragging one nipple between his teeth.

My back arches and a gasp of surprise escapes me.

"Nyk…"

He swirls his tongue around my nipple, and the sensation shoots straight to my core. I squirm against him as shivers of awareness spread through me.

"That's my girl. You feel it, don't you? The way your body craves mine," he whispers as he moves to my other breast. He lavishes the same attention on it, kissing, sucking, nibbling.

I'm a mess of sensations as I cradle his head to my chest, willing him to never stop.

"My greedy girl." He chuckles, blowing hot air over my nipples.

My cheeks turn red at his words, but I can't stop the grin that pulls at my lips.

He moves lower. He slides his tongue down the valley of my breasts, kissing my stomach before he sucks my skin in his mouth, leaving red marks behind. Alas, they quickly fade as they heal, but that only incentivizes him to mark me further.

There is not one inch of skin that remains untouched by his lips, unmarked by his possessive bite.

But then he's there.

His mouth hovers over my sex, his hot breath caressing my drenched folds.

A wave of embarrassment crashes over me and I attempt to lock my legs together.

He chuckles and, bringing his finger down my stomach, he follows the slope of my mound until he reaches that place between my thighs.

At first, he only dips one finger between my folds, coating it in moisture.

"Ah, Barbs," he groans, bringing his finger to his mouth and sucking on it. "You are killing me, sweetie."

I smile and look away.

"So shy. So beautifully innocent. And all mine," he murmurs lovingly.

Using the same finger, he traces my sex, teasing me until I become comfortable enough to part my legs for him to settle between my thighs. With a wicked smile, he places my legs on his shoulders and he leans in, his mouth at the same level as my sex.

"Nyk… Uhm…" I mumble, utterly embarrassed.

"Do not hide from me, Barbs. You are my mate. That means this is mine, is that not so?" he asks shamelessly as he presses his finger against my clit.

I shudder.

He moves lower, circling my entrance and gathering all the moisture gushing from inside of me.

"Look how wet you are for me. Fucking hell, Barbs." He closes his eyes and inhales me deeply.

I squirm against him. His tentative touches are threatening to kill me.

"Ah, there is my greedy girl." He smirks. "And your cunt is just as greedy for me, isn't it?"

My eyes flare in shock at his words, and I grab a pillow and place it over my face in embarrassment.

"Do not!" he commands, and the pillow flies from my hands. "I want to see you, Barbs. I want to see the pleasure on your face. I want to see your every damn reaction."

I lick my lips and I give him a tentative nod.

He smiles, and he turns his attention back to my aching sex.

He pushes his finger inside me, probing at my entrance.

I tense. That stings.

"Fuck me. You are so damn tight," he mutters to himself.

I don't have time to think about that, however, as he leans in and gives me a slow lick just as he pushes his thick finger farther inside me. It's a tight fit, and he's only using one finger.

He lays the flat of his tongue against my clit as he thrusts his finger in and out of me.

My toes curl against the mattress. I arch my back and release a soft moan.

Threading my fingers through his hair, I hold him in place. If a moment ago I was uncertain about this, now I can only urge him forward, beg him to devour me and bring me closer to that ineffable pleasure.

He smiles against me and blows hot air over my clit. He drags his tongue all along my slit, and with each new tease, I get wetter, more aroused. He takes his time to elicit every sensation possible out of my body, yet it's all a tease as he brings me to the peak, only to pull me back, tricking me with the promise of that delicious fulfillment.

"You taste so sweet, baby. Just like I knew you would," he purrs, burrowing his face between my thighs. "You have been taunting me with the smell of this sweet cunt for months. And here I am. Too weak to fucking resist you," he says as he sucks my clit between his lips, the vibrations from his throat sending me into overdrive. He works his finger in and out of me until he hits a spot that has me spasming.

"Nyk… Almost there… I'm almost…"

"Just like that, sweet girl. Come for me," he commands, biting hard on my clit. His fangs penetrate my flesh, drawing blood at the same time as my orgasm grips me.

I dig my heels into the mattress, clamping my thighs around his head. He continues to lick the mix of arousal and blood.

My eyes snap shut and I can barely cling to sanity as I ride wave after wave. The mark on my chest too, vibrates, enhancing the pleasure until I'm not sure anymore whether I'm on a physical plane or a metaphysical one.

My lips part until the only sounds I make are a succession of gasps and moans. The more he teases my sex, the more the aftershocks affect me, and I tumble into another orgasm.

The waves are never-ending.

They ripple and they form again, seemingly one stronger than the other. And as he digs his fangs into my inner thigh, drawing more blood, I scream out his name. So loud, the earth shakes. So loud, the walls around us quake, the glass windows cracking from the high voltage.

"Nyk, Nyk, Nyk," I chant his name all over again.

I don't know what's going on anymore.

There's only the weight of his body on top of mine as he continues to kiss his way up my chest. I'm still caught in the throes of the orgasm when he lays his lips on top of mine, letting me taste myself on his tongue.

"You are mine ," he rasps against my lips. "Only mine. Only ever mine."

The fog that's laid claim over my mind suddenly dissipates when I feel a strong pressure at my entrance. Tears burn behind my retina as my eyes flare open in shock. He's there, trying to push inside of me.

He's staring at me with a savage expression—one that's both claimed by lust but also something else. A calculating look that scares me to my core.

"Nyk, no," I finally find my voice as I push at his shoulders. "Not now. I'm not ready," I tell him.

He stares at me unflinchingly and he doesn't stop.

The head of his thick cock slips a little inside of me, stretching me painfully.

"Nyk, stop it!" I repeat, trying to get him off me.

It's almost as if he's a different person. He regards me with a total lack of empathy, his expression cold and apathetic. Yet in a flash, that dangerous look is gone. He's back to being my Nyk and he pulls back. A stinging pain echoes at my entrance.

I scramble away from him, blinking repeatedly in shock.

"I got carried away." He gives me a tight smile. "Sorry."

I breathe in and out. The euphoria from before is all but gone as I try to reconcile the Nyk I know to the one I just witnessed.

Wrapping the towel around me, I get out of bed and head to the window in an attempt to put some distance between us.

A throbbing headache assails me, and more pain flares between my legs. Glancing down, I note a few drops of pink flowing down my inner thighs.

"Barbs?" Nyk's voice startles me. He's behind me.

"If I say no, you need to stop." I turn to tell him.

"I lost control. I am sorry," he murmurs, leaning down to press a kiss against my temple.

"I appreciate you trying to comfort me, but I almost got raped today," I tell him sternly. "Do you think I'd want to lose my virginity right after such a traumatic event?"

"I know, I'm sorry." He embraces me from behind. "But look on the bright side. You opened your fourth gate today. You are almost there."

I freeze. A cold feeling of dread spreads down my spine.

What the hell?