Chapter Thirty-Four

Felix

Though the sun has not yet shown its face, sleep does not find me.

I eye the flagon of strong liquor as my feet etch a path into the stone. I glower at the bright silver moon hanging low in the sky. It's almost as if each star in existence winks at me with mirth, allowing me only the illusion of control.

Although I bear the title of King and wield the power of the crown, it does little to aid me in my pursuit of her. In truth, oftentimes I believe it only serves to aid in her misery.

The significance it holds for her doesn't escape me. The man who wore this crown before me was utterly mad. Tension stretches through the thread in my chest. It struggles to keep its glimmer while its mate suffers such agony. I swipe the flagon from the small table as my mind churns with possibilities for my next course of action.

I savor the sting of liquor as it slides down the back of my throat. I'm confident there will come a day when her soul will shine once more. I simply refuse to accept the alternative, despite the fact it seems she has.

She does not see it as I do. Although the bond is enveloped with comfort while in her presence, it's unsettling to witness her as she is now. She's in good health and nothing is astray with her physical appearance, but it's apparent each time I peer into her eyes that her soul lies in fragments. The beautiful honey eyes that once churned with life are no longer to be found. Instead, the grave stares back at me, cold and stale as the winds of night.

Time has passed since I relieved the traitor of his tongue. Ellesandra and I have discussed why it had to be done, but the desolation I foresaw has come to pass. While I've made sure she understands my reasoning, she grieves for the man she thought she knew.

These days, she does not leave the chambers. To my dismay, she has vehemently refused any offers that Josephine has made to ensure her comfort. She refuses fresh clothing, insisting she remain in her thin, ivory sleeping gown. Luckily, Josephine has been able to coax her into bathing with lavender salts so she may clean it.

Save for her demands for strong wine that have been ignored in the past days, she requests nothing else. Not even a piece of literature from the magnificent library that I spent the better part of three hundred years creating. She hardly speaks, and when she does, the spirit of her fiery being is a ghost of a memory.

The only comfort she finds is within my touch. Each time our bodies come together, it's like nothing I've felt before. The bond is sent into a frenzy with the scent of her, the taste of her skin, the breathy sounds that escape her. My thirst for her never slakes, never relents. While her ethereal body is deserving of the utmost worship, it is the complete and utter submission of her magnificent mind I crave.

My hands come to flex slowly at my sides with the thought. I freeze when I bring the flagon to my lips once more and a tug echoes through my chest. While my shadows have been ever present, keeping a watchful eye, hope soars to life with the bond's response. Pulling a clean tunic over my head, I make for the chamber door.

My mind quiets as I wind through the halls. Although my shadows constantly surround her, with the thread in my chest I have no reason for them to do so. The bond is elated to answer its mate's instinctive call. I know it is not of her doing, as the Queen of Minalis would sooner lead herself to the gallows than admit her need of me. And need me, she does.

I knew the risks my approach ran. I was never under the false pretense that she would allow me the joy of mending our broken bond. I wasn't so quick to believe the tales of the cruel and callous queen that the people of Minalis spun. Instead, I prepared for her all-consuming rage that would accompany the loss of both her freedom and home. What I hadn't prepared for was the desolation that burrows into her soul.

I know I'm close when another sharp tug resounds through my chest as I turn the corner of the cavernous hall. Curiosity sparks inside me when the thread leads me to descend the grand marble staircase. It's strange, this sense of peace that washes over me with every step that draws me nearer to her. This floor serves as host to many things, but elation breathes life anew into me when I spy the ornate obsidian door in front of me.

The library.

Flickering flames of golden candlelight filter through the crevice of the ajar door. My steps are soundless as I approach and my palm comes to rest on the smooth wood.

The door swings open with a gentle shove, and the smell of parchment greets me. Tales of the histories, of tragedy, of love, line the towering shelves that stretch from floor to ceiling. Relief floods me when I drag my gaze from them and spy her lithe frame across the room.

She sits comfortably in the ivory velvet chair just beneath the window. Her legs are splayed across one arm, her back and head resting against the other. I welcome any words that pass from her perfectly shaped lips, but it's likely she'll abandon her post the moment she catches sight of me. Shoving my hands into the pockets of my breeches, I lean against the doorway, content with drinking in the sight of her.

Between her fingers she holds a book bound with onyx leather, the pages weathered with age. Her brow furrows in concentration, the way her eyes scan the text speaking of her immersion into the story. Wistfulness stretches to fill me when I realize she's chosen what was her favorite book as a girl. The feeling spreads when memories of a time when she was just the princess of a kingdom I'd been taught to hate come to the forefront of my mind.

A waterfall of wild curls spills over the arm, the moon's silvery glow striking when it shines upon them. My hand flexes at my side as the being in my chest remembers how it feels to sink my fingers into their buttery softness.

I'm rooted in place as the minutes pass and the bond hums with contentment. As she reads, I commit every widening of her eyes and flutter of her thick lashes to memory.

She makes a mockery of our souls at every turn. She's self-centered and manipulative. Arrogant and lacking even the smallest amount of patience. Despite it all, a single glance at her and the jagged edges of my heart soften. She can slice me open with her words, singe me with her fire, and I'll continue to love her anyway. There's no existence I inhabit that she doesn't exist in too.

"Is there something you need?" she says, not bothering to lift her gaze from the weathered, cream-colored page.

"No." Yes. Many things, all of which include that book slipping from your hand. "The ball is tomorrow."

With a heavy sigh, she slams the book shut and looks up at me with those doe-like, honey brown eyes. "Yes, unfortunately, I'm well aware."

I tsk and shake my head. That fucking mouth. "Come now. You've always loved balls and pretty things." I vanish the distance between us with three long strides.

She cranes her neck to look backward when I reach the side of the chair her head rests on. Her breath hitches as I lean down and my hand ghosts over the front of her sleeping gown.

"And you, Lumina, are the most magnificent sight in any room you enter."

The tension in her shoulders ebbs as I plant a kiss behind her ear, then on the side of her neck. "You're ethereal in every form, but there's nothing more stunning than this." My voice is a low, rough whisper as I roll her pebbled peaks between my thumb and forefinger.

The soft moan that escapes her when my other hand follows suit goes straight to my cock. She's so fucking perfect like this. I'd spend the rest of my days showing her that if she'd let me. Show her that, despite her struggles with feeling her emotions, I'm at her disposal. If she needs me to dry her tears and hold her in my arms until the sun rises, I will. If she needs me to fuck her into oblivion, I will. I'm a laborer to her every whim.

The hem of her sleeping gown rides up when her spine arches, exposing the smooth expanse of her creamy thighs. My mouth waters with the thought of parting them and burying my face into her cunt. Fucking her with my mouth until she comes on my tongue, then sheathing myself to the hilt in her slick heat.

"Mmm," she hums when I stretch forward further and my palms caress the curves of her waist. The sound is my undoing.

The book tumbles out of her lap and clatters to the floor as I lift her from behind and set her on the ground in front of me. Surprise flashes through her eyes as she glances at me over her shoulder. Hunger quickly takes the place of surprise as she slides the thin straps of the sleeping gown down her shoulders.

I peel my breeches off when the gown falls from her body and reveals the generous curve of her rear. My tunic soon follows. She inhales sharply when my hand snakes around to the apex of her thighs.

Her head comes to rest on my chest, her breathing short pants as my fingers graze her sensitive nub. The perfect amount of molten, sticky wetness clings to my fingertips when I plunge two fingers into her core.

Another raspy moan fills the room as I begin to pump my fingers in and out of her. I know that when I'm no longer of this realm, that sound will follow me to the stars.

A bead of sweat slides down my temple as my thumb swirls around her swollen nub. The pace I set is the sweetest punishment. When her breathing quickens and she arches her spine into me further, I know she's close.

She gasps when I suddenly withdraw my fingers from her. Before the frustrated words can tumble from her mouth, I move around her, shifting our positions. Ellesandra blinks at me, stunned, as I seat myself in the velvet chair.

In a flash, I lean forward and grab her waist to pull her into my lap. My mouth crashes onto hers as she brings her knees up to bracket my hips.

I tilt my head back and close my eyes as the movement aligns her core perfectly with mine. My hands roam up her curves and come to rest on her waist. As she moans breathlessly and sinks on to my length, I'm unsure if there will ever come a time when my thirst for her slakes. No amount of fighting or training can compare to feeling her walls flutter around me. Fierce rain lashes the window panes when she slowly begins to rock her hips in clockwise motions.

My grasp on her waist tightens when I open my eyes to find her looking at me. Flecks of starlight churn wildly and illuminate her honey irises with gold. The desire that stares back at me brands my soul as her pace quickens.

"So fucking good for me," I rasp.

Preening beneath my praise, she throws her head back and arches her spine. Her perfect breasts bounce in time with her frantic movements. Something primal inside me snaps at the sight.

Leaning forward, I jerk her closer and lay a long swipe up the center of her chest, angling my hips upward to thrust into her. At this moment, I'm no king. As her legs begin to quiver and her core pulses around me, I'm simply hers.

"Come for me, Lumina."

Like the good girl she is, she obeys without hesitation and shatters around me. It's the most beautiful sight I've ever seen. Her mouth forms the perfect O-shape and her eyes squeeze tightly shut as I thrust into her harder. Her mewl of completion is my undoing.

Ellesandra all but collapses into my chest when I follow her with a roar. With her head coming to rest on my shoulder, my pulse slows. Still inside of her, I wrap my arms around her middle.

She snuggles deeper into the side of my neck when I gather her close and press her against my chest.

"I love you," I rasp, planting a kiss to the side of her temple.

She sighs in contentment and quickly falls asleep in my arms.

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A brisk night air greets me as the guards haul the door open.

Given the late hour, it's quiet. Most of the lords and ladies have retired to their chambers for the night. It's likely some of my men are drinking themselves into a stupor at The Crooked Moon. Ashe asked me to accompany them, but the tavern no longer interests me. Not anymore. Not when she's here at last.

I blow out a long breath and tilt my head skyward. I don't know how to help her.

The bond would have me believe that the longer she remains in Risian, the more comfortable she'll become. A week has come and gone, however, and little has changed. It seems the only semblance of peace she finds is when our bodies come together. I have no issue with this by any means, but it's not just her body I crave. No matter how much I've tried to shy away from it through the centuries, I want to make her happy. I want to see her whole again.

Which leads me here.

She doesn't notice my presence as I slow my steps. Pearlescent white reflects off her sable locks as she picks a leaf from a silver nightshade tree. "I thought I might find you here."

A frown plays on my sister's lips as she glances at me over her shoulder. The gleam in her eyes fades as she frowns at me. "Oh."

She turns to glance back out at the lake of starlight without so much as another word. The scent of damp earth fills my senses as I take a deep breath to soothe my frustration. Insufferable as Sianna may be when she chooses to be stubborn, I'm left with little choice.

Shoving my hands into the pockets of my breeches, I move to stand beside her.

Gusts of autumn's wind and the lap of the illuminated waters ahead are the only sounds between us for a long moment.

Blowing out a long breath, Sianna shreds the leaf she holds into small pieces. The pieces dance in the air and come to gleam on the lake's glassy surface as she tosses them into the wind.

"I need your help," I say after a long moment.

"Help with what?"

Bending down, I pick up a loose piece of rock under the toe of my boot. "With Ellesandra." The rough texture of the rock scrapes against my skin as I turn it between my thumb and forefinger.

She snorts. "Yes, it seems she's quite miserable. Exactly as I said she'd be."

By the stars' grace alone am I able to tamper down the anger that swells in my chest. "Yes. You did. But that is neither here nor there. She is where she belongs, same as you."

Turning to face me, she studies me with narrowed eyes.

Crossing her arms over her chest, she sighs after a long moment. "Alright." Loyal as my sister may be, she knows I only seek what is best for Ellesandra. "Seeing there are no plumeria flowers in Risian, butterflies will have to do."

Ellesandra,

One hundred years you've reigned. It's occasions such as this I turn my eyes towards the night sky. I curse the stars for bestowing such misery upon me. Yet each time I try to speak, I find the words refuse to fall from my lips.

As much as I loathe your stubbornness, I'm unable to curse what has been my sole source of light.