Chapter 9

Béke Day Two

"Ruslan!" Drazen called through the haze of my thoughts. Sweat poured off of me as I continued to pound into the bag of sand hanging in the barracks outside Roc Palace, the home I'd built for Izidora and myself into the side of my favorite mountain in the Iron Realm. My knuckles screamed in protest as I landed another heavy blow, the already raw skin cracking and sending ruby rivulets running down my arm.

"What do you want, Drazen?" I snarled at my half-Dragon cousin, not paying him any more attention than that as I continued to pound away the pain that cut deeper than any knife. Before I could land my next blow, the male caught my arm and swung me to face him. My chest heaved with the relentless effort I threw into beating the bag while my brain flashed images of Izidora falling back into Kazimir's arms.

"She's not going to leave you." Drazen's deep blue eyes were filled with conviction, but I shrugged off his grip.

"You don't know that," I growled, reaching for my discarded shirt to wipe the sweat from my face and neck. My hair dripped a steady stream down my back as I stared Drazen down.

"Savich saw them leaving and sent Kriath to follow them." Kriath was one of the Félvér in my personal guard, and he was one of the few who could execute a full shift into his inherited form. His Eagle was beautiful and large, and because his eyesight was keen, he could fly lazy circles far above Radence, out of sight from below.

"And?"

"And Kriath said that their interaction didn't go very well. He said Izidora seemed tense on their way back to the castle." Drazen blew out a breath, reaching up and tugging on the messy knot of hair tied at the crown of his head.

It wasn't until my chest loosened that I realized how tight it had been. My breath flowed easier, and I sank onto the padded ground, waves of relief washing over me. "They're already back?"

"Yes. And the archery competition starts in an hour. You need to wash up, because you are, in fact, hosting this year's Béke." Drazen pinched his brow. "I see you trying to do better, Ruslan, I really do. I know this isn't easy for you, but even if Izidora chooses him, you know I will always be here. We might not have grown up together, but I will always be loyal to you. I can't love you like she can, but I promise I'll never leave."

His words were like a punch to the gut and comforting hug wrapped into one, and my throat thickened, rendering me unable to speak. Finally, I managed, "Thank you, Drazen."

He proffered a hand to help me to my feet, and I accepted it, pulling him into a quick embrace before heading out of the barracks. "Besides, who else is going to call you out on your shit?" His grin was impish, and he elbowed me in the ribs as we entered the wintry sun.

"No one, unless they want to end up dead." I huffed a laugh, the darkness that called to me lifting for a moment. "Are we flying back?" I asked when no horses greeted us at the adjacent stables.

"We are. The courtyard at Ryza was too packed for me to ride out," he shrugged. "At least it's a nice day."

Without bothering to pull my shirt on, I loosed my black, taloned wings from my back, letting them flare wide before settling behind me. Drazen's lapis lazuli Dragon wings flared through his enchanted armor, and we shot into the cloudless blue sky, soaring on the bitter winter wind toward Ryza. The citadel watched over Radence like a hawk, missing nothing from its seat on a hill in the center of the city. Its black spires beckoned me forward, and I aimed for the largest tower at the edge of a rough cliff, not wanting anyone to see my bruised and bloody knuckles before I had a chance to heal them.

Strength, wealth, and power. Those were the attributes I wanted on display during Béke, and showing up with a wildness that spoke to how close I was to losing my shit would not do, especially not after my fight with Kazimir the previous night. Blood dripped from my palms as I dug my nails in, remembering his insult. Rapist.

The male was disgusting, stooping so low when he knew what Izidora had experienced. If only I could get Drazen to chain him up with the others, I could torture him until he begged for mercy I would not give.

A wicked grin spread across my lips as we approached the wall-sized windows of my apartment, my blood heating at the thought of the surprise Drazen was helping me concoct for Izidora. Soon, I'd be ready to show her the lengths I would go for her. But until then…

I knocked against the glass that opened from the inside, startling Izidora from where she lay on our bed. Her eyes were red and puffy, and I nearly broke the glass to get to her when I saw the pain written across her face. She rushed to the window, unlatching it and pushing it open. In a carefully calculated move, I banished my wings and rolled over my shoulder onto the dark wood floor, landing safely in our bedchamber. Drazen mimicked me and then Izidora shoved the window shut, blocking out the cold air.

"I didn't know you could do that," she murmured, awe in her voice.

Pushing off the ground, I caught her in my arms and pulled her close. "I would have shown you sooner if you'd made the flight from the roof of Roc to the ground, sprite. Master that, and I'll teach you this."

She didn't argue, burying her face into the dried sweat on my chest. Drazen cleared his throat, raising a dark brow and shooting me a look that said, ‘I told you so.' I rolled my eyes and jerked my head, indicating that he could go.

"I'll be back in half an hour to go over the rules for the archery competition," Drazen threw over his shoulder, shutting the door behind him. I waited until his footsteps retreated out the main door before extracting Izidora from my embrace.

"What's wrong, sprite?" I crouched down so we were at eye level, and the redness was more apparent with our faces a breath apart.

She closed her eyes and shook her head. "It's just so much pressure. The fate of the world rests on my shoulders. Who am I to choose what happens next? I don't even know what will happen! Only that if I choose wrong, I'll plunge the world into chaos or something, whatever that means. Why can't there just be a clear answer!" The frustration eating at her was evident in her tone and the way her fingers twisted in her tunic.

I brushed my knuckles across her cheek, leaving a smear of my blood in their wake. "There is no stronger Fae, Félvér, or Telivér in all of északi. Each of us is given a battle we must wage, and while some get off easy with the extent of their battle, others, like us, must carry longer and heavier campaigns to reach our highest potential."

She blew out a breath, nodding. When I pulled my hand away, she murmured, "You're injured." Her eyes widened, and she snatched my hand in midair and turned it over to assess my knuckles. In a flash, her white magic appeared, settling over them like a warm blanket, knitting the skin together and removing the swelling. With pride blooming in my chest, I lifted my other hand, allowing her to repeat the process before her aquamarine eyes narrowed on me. "What did you do?"

"The battle I must face is fear of you abandoning me, mate. We cope in different ways." I spoke through gritted teeth, not wanting to delve further into the fact that the only way for me to feel better was pain. Fastening my hand around her wrist, I jerked her to me. "Come shower with me and wash away all the blood."

Her lips parted slightly, and her heavenly arousal filled my nostrils. With the silence filling the space around us, the fluttering beat of her heart was like a drum, and I swore the hum of our bond was just underneath it.

"I wanted to enter the competition," she breathed. "Shouldn't I head to the arena so I am ready when it starts?"

"If I remember correctly, I am the king of the Iron Realm, and I get to decide when the competition starts, as well as who is allowed to participate. If you want to participate, then you shall." My healed hand found Izidora's chestnut hair, yanking it back so her throat was bared to me. I grazed my teeth along her exposed lifeline, eliciting a shudder and spreading goosebumps across her exposed skin.

"A quick shower," she conceded, her words breathy and soft. Approval rumbled in my chest as she broke my grips and tugged me behind her to the bathroom, turning the knobs until the space filled with steam.

My cock rose to attention as she stripped off her leggings and tunic, and I wasted no time removing my pants and showing her how much I wanted her. Her gaze snagged on my hardness before I walked her backward into the waiting water. Before I could say anything, she grabbed a bar of soap and rubbed it across the hard planes of my torso, soaping away the layers of sweat that clung to my skin. They washed down the drain along with my fear as she continued to shower me with her touch, and when she dropped to her knees before me, I nearly came undone.

She glanced up at me through her thick lashes, then flicked her tongue under the head of my cock. I groaned, "You look so fucking pretty kneeling before me. Now suck my cock into that pretty mouth of yours like a good girl."

Her eyes were molten, and she popped her mouth into an O before taking me down her throat with a single bob of her head. My abs tightened as I watched my shaft disappear completely, the suction created by her throat causing me to moan. She repeated the motion until her gags were too violent and she came up coughing for air. The water sprayed all around us, and she blinked droplets from her lashes, chest heaving, looking up at me like I was all she needed in this world.

Threading my fingers in her wet hair, I guided her head back to my erection. "Open wide because I'm not going to be gentle," I growled, and she sucked in a breath before obediently dropping her jaw. I buried myself in her mouth, not stopping until I hit the back of her throat, and then I began my relentless pace, her teeth grazing the underside of my cock and driving me wild.

Spit dripped down her chin as I fucked her face, and her nails dug into my thighs, but she did not tap them or ask for a reprieve. The sight of my mate taking everything I could give her had my balls tightening, and I knew I was close.

"Get ready to swallow me down," I grunted, my thrusts becoming erratic as waves of pleasure started at the base of my spine. With a groan, I emptied hot cum into her mouth, my cock throbbing and jerking with each subsequent release. I watched her throat bob as she swallowed it and then she stuck out her tongue, showing me what she had done. Releasing her hair, I pulled her to her feet and kissed her deeply, my tongue sweeping across hers and tasting the saltiness leftover from my release. "You're so fucking good, sprite."

"Does this mean I win the archery competition?" she grinned against my mouth, and I released her so I could gaze at the sparkle in her eyes.

"If there was a competition for sucking dick, you'd definitely get first prize," I told her.

She grabbed soap for herself, washing quickly while I did the same. Drazen would return any moment, and if he found us fucking, I'd never hear the end of it. But as the high of coming wore off, that fear crawled its way up my spine, constricting my lungs and robbing me of air. Izidora seemed almost as out of sorts as I did, her eyes glazed over as if she were deep in thought while she rinsed her hair. I exited the shower, grabbing towels for both of us, and we dried and dressed quickly, entering the living space at the same time as Drazen.

"Ready?" the half-Dragon asked, a thick, black brow raised in our direction. With his heightened senses, there was no doubt he knew what we'd been doing in his absence.

"Let's go," I confirmed, striding toward the door with kingly, purposeful steps. I snatched the Iron Crown from where I'd carelessly tossed it earlier and placed it on my head as we exited into the hallway.

"Who do we have representing the Iron Realm?" I asked Drazen.

"Kriath, Artur, Savich, and myself from your guard, and I believe Anton and Slavian have also thrown their names in. There are some of the lesser nobles and a few members of the Iron Realm's archery unit participating as well. All in all, maybe forty?" he responded.

"Wait, who am I representing?" Izidora jumped in, and my heart sang. She didn't default to representing the Night Realm, and that gave me hope.

Drazen responded before I could open my mouth. "Well, since the Night Realm nobles have made it clear they still see you as their leader, I would say the Night Realm." I sucked in a breath as we entered the stairwell leading us to the main floor. "But if you'd rather represent the Iron Realm, I don't think we'd oppose it," Drazen added.

Our footsteps echoed around the stone staircase as Izidora considered her options. "Why does the representation matter anyway?"

"The games we'll play over the coming weeks determine an overall winner of the friendly competition. There will be group and individual prizes for each event as well. It's mostly about bragging rights and an opportunity for the host realm to flaunt their wealth and wares," I said, stepping onto the landing and holding the door open for my cousin and my mate to pass through.

"Prizes?" Izidora beamed with a twinkle in her eyes. "What sort of prizes?"

With an amused huff, I captured her waist and pulled her into me, planting a kiss on her wet hair. "Not the kind of prize I'd give you, sprite."

Drazen rolled his eyes and shouldered past. "The Iron Realm most often awards gems and metalwork as prizes."

"I do like gems," Izidora sighed, and my stomach dropped because the one precious ring I had given her had been ruined by my selfishness and impulsiveness.

"Then I'll have to get you some more, mate," I whispered in her ear. "I want you to be dripping in more ways than one." Her cheeks flamed as I pulled away from her, and a smirk played across my face as I received the reaction I wanted. Then, I dropped my hands and followed Drazen down the hall, leaving Izidora to jog to catch up with us as she recovered.

"So, what's the rest of the schedule going to be?" she asked, slipping her hand in mine, and the ache in my chest that was always there eased immediately.

"Well, the first few days are competitions, like archery, swordsmanship, strength, horsemanship," I elbowed Izidora, knowing that would be her favorite, "and tomorrow we'll have a hunt for the males, and the females can go to the spa. Then there are a few days of celebration of the Goddess and her lasting peace, including a ritual offering, masquerade ball, artisanal fair, and lantern release. After that, we'll have an entertainment show, and the last two days are spent celebrating from dawn until dusk," I explained.

"And whoever wins the most of these competitions gets awarded a grand prize?" Izidora asked.

"Exactly," Drazen replied. "So, who do you want to represent, the Night or the Iron Realm?"

Izidora chewed her lip, and my heart galloped in my chest as I waited for her answer. If she chose the Iron Realm, that meant I was one step closer to sealing our mate bond. But if she chose the Night Realm…

"Can I remain neutral?"

Fuck, if those four words didn't both wound me and reassure me.

Drazen shrugged. "I don't see why not."

"Then that is what I will do," she declared as we joined the throng of people bustling down the main hall and out into the afternoon sun.

Horses were tacked and ready to ride, and those staying in the citadel departed in droves down the long, sloped path into Radence. As we mounted and joined the fray, I observed just how many residents trekked to the arena set on the outskirts of the city, with rows and rows and rows of seating climbing toward the sky to give all in attendance a view of the competitors. The hum of excitement was palpable, given that these next two weeks were filled with drink, food, and fucking, a much-needed reprieve from the long, harsh winters and the back-breaking work in the mountains.

Izidora waved to people she knew as we passed them, and many Fae and Félvér stopped their progress to bow to their king. The lightheartedness and joy of my people managed to lift a little of that tightness from my shoulders, and by the time we reached the arena, I'd relaxed into my role.

A stage had been erected to one side, the wood planks creating a shelter from the wind that blew down from the nearby glacial peaks. The Demon Dragon sigil hung from a beam at the back, showing everyone in attendance exactly who was in fucking charge of the Iron Realm. The maw of the black dragon dripped blood, matching its fiendish ruby eyes and bright red horns. It was intimidating and powerful, which was exactly why I'd abandoned the sigil of my father, the late King Azim, in favor of it.

"Good luck, sprite." I bid Izidora goodbye after we secured our horses, squeezing her hand before ascending the steps to the platform. I braced my arms along the back of the throne in the center of the stage, Queen Viktoria already seated off to my left. I nodded to the pregnant monarch, her hands resting across the furs piled over her belly to ward off the chill.

Then I turned my attention to the crowd of competitors and onlookers.

Five stations had been set up, each fully stocked with quivers filled with arrows, though each competitor brought their own bow. The throng of people filled me with joy as I saw Fae of every race, Félvér who lived in the Iron Realm, and the Telivér who had remained behind after I released them from their magical chains to the Iron Realm, mixing and laughing with one another.

This was how the continent should be.

Swallowing down my smile in favor of a smirk, I stepped forward, shooting a blast of black fire into the air to garner the attention of the crowd. A hush fell over it, and all eyes were on me.

"Béke is a time of peace, where all the races of Fae gather to celebrate our benevolent Goddess and her infinite wisdom. However," I paused, allowing my expression to shift into a devilish one, "that doesn't mean our friendly competition has to be boring. The Iron Realm plans on winning this year, so don't hold back, because the competition will be fierce."

Cheers erupted from the gathered Iron Fae and Félvér, while teasing boos resounded from everyone else.

With a casual, indifferent air, I leaped from the platform, landing lightly in the space below, and strode toward the closest station. Drazen had already laid out a ceremonial bow and iron arrow for me, and I notched and drew it, taking aim at the target. Black flame erupted along the bolt as it flew straight and true to the center, flaring briefly before extinguishing completely.

"Let the games begin!" I shouted.