Chapter 33
33
W alking back to my room side by side with Jace, I feel a familiar thrum of excitement dancing in my stomach. I want to be alone with him. With no weapons, no interruptions, no distractions.
Just us.
When he stops at my door and leans against the wall with that casual ease, I wonder if he wants that, too. A moment of silence passes between us.
"Do you want to come in?" I ask him timidly.
His eyes gloss over my face, drinking me in.
"You're probably exhausted right now. The events of the last two days, on top of using your magic so steadily?—"
"Don't make excuses for me." I hold up a hand and twist the doorknob. "Do you want to come in or not?"
He shakes his head, growling in my ear as I push it open. "Impatient, little witch."
The tickle of his breath on my neck makes my shoulders rise instinctively. He steps inside, and I close the door behind us. It clicks shut with a sound of finality.? *
We stare at each other for a moment before he rushes me, pinning me back against the door and claiming my mouth. I sigh in relief as he puts his hands on me.
Finally .
After all these months of dancing around each other, of grating sexual tension and torturous frustration, the kiss is full of heat and pent-up anger.
Longing.
His hands feel their way up my neck, fisting my hair so tightly that I arch off the solid door. The action presses my chest to his, and he lowers his mouth to my throat, kissing and teasing. Breathlessly, I undo the buttons of his leather jacket and run my hands over his smooth chest. He brings his face back up to mine, and our tongues meet, gliding over one another, stirring the dormant hunger within me. My tongue flicks over one of his razor-sharp canines, and a small sound escapes my lips. He pulls back to smile, golden eyes wicked, revealing two tiny fangs.
His hands slide downward, roaming over my breasts with a gentle squeeze before bracketing my waist, fusing my hips to him. His jacket falls to the ground, and he goes to work on mine, his lips never leaving my skin. His mouth blazes a scorching trail along my collarbone, sending a flood of heat through me as I wrap my arms around his neck and press into him, desperate for more. He gives my shirt a rough tug, yanking it down over my shoulders impatiently. A wild thrill courses through me as he explores more of my exposed skin. I ache to have less clothing between us.
I reach for the hem of my shirt, and without warning, my hands fly above my head, pinned there by invisible restraints. I gasp as he lifts his darkened eyes to me. A phantom touch dances down my inner arms with slow, torturous agony as Jace's own hands slip beneath my shirt. His fingers skim my sides as he lifts the tunic over my head. Tossing it behind him, his golden eyes slide over my exposed skin, his expression hungry. The invisible hands begin to work their way up my legs, heading for dangerous territory, while he glides his thumb over my breast, waking the skin beneath. I rear against him as he teases, slowly exploring each one with wonder in his eyes. I shudder, unable to bear any more, and dip forward to drink from his lips. A soft groan slips from him as he wraps his arms around my waist and crushes me to him. I fist his dark hair, pulling it with a growing sense of urgency.
He hoists me up with perfect ease, wrapping my legs around his waist and cupping my ass with his massive hands. He spins us around, slamming my back into the wooden bedpost. I cry out in pleasured surprise.
"I've wanted to do this for so long," he murmurs against my lips. His hips drive upward into my most private spot, and nothing has ever felt so right. Pinned against the post, I am entirely at his mercy. His breath is hot against my pebbled skin. "You have no idea."
"Oh, I think I do," I whisper, biting my lip to keep from crying out again.
"When you kissed me at solstice—" I strip off his shirt. "When you came to me all needy and demanding—" His mouth ghosts over mine.
"Yes?" I urge, wriggling my hips, impatient for more.
"You were so ready for me," he grits, answering my silent demand with another thrust of his hips. I nod, unable to form words.
His hands glide over my breasts again, this time not as gently as he squeezes and pinches until I can no longer hold back the moan building inside of me.
"You have no idea the restraint it took to not give in to you. I dreamt of you that night. Dreamt of how I wanted you. Of all the things I would do to you if I ever got the chance."
He twists and tosses me carelessly down on the bed. I bounce once, staring up at him in amused awe.
I've never been so attracted to anyone in my life.
He kneels on the floor before the bed and catches my boot in his hand, stripping it off and tossing it aside.
"I hope it's a long list," I murmur, watching him, enthralled.
"Longer than you can even imagine."
Without breaking eye contact, he yanks the other boot off, inadvertently tugging me forward. "I woke up so unsatisfied. My whole body aching for you."
Oh my god.
"Then we better get started on that list, don't you agree?" A siren speaks in place of me, her voice husky and sensual. The mattress creaks as Jace leans over me, his kisses driving us further and further up the bed. Something small and hard digs into my back, and I break our kiss to reach for the cell phone pinned beneath me.
"What is that?" Jace freezes above me, staring at the foreign object.
"It's my cell phone. I was looking at old pictures the night before we left and must have fallen asleep with it in bed."
Jace sits up, holding out a curious hand for the phone.
"What does it do?" he asks. I scoop my shirt off the floor, draping it over my bare chest.
"We primarily use it to communicate in the human world," I explain, shifting to sit on my knees.
"You communicate through this—this little box? What kind of magic is it?" He turns it over and upside down, studying it. I stifle a laugh at his adorable confusion.
"No magic. Just technology."
His fingers slide over the screen, and he nearly drops it in surprise when it lights up. His eyes are full of wonder as he taps aimlessly. A gasp escapes him before turning the phone toward me.
"There are portraits. In your phone," he sputters, dumbfounded. I can't help laughing now as he shakes his head in disbelief.
"It's a picture. It uses this thing called a camera to freeze moments in time—like a portrait. You'd be amazed at all this thing can do. It plays music, you can play games. You can even ask it questions, and it will pretty much tell you anything you want to know."
"A magic mirror?" He glances up at me.
I gawk at him.
"What? You guys have magic mirrors here?"
He shrugs absently, staring at the photo, transfixed. "There were only a handful ever made, and they've been lost to time."
"Here. You do this to see the next one." I brush my finger over the touch screen, and a new photo appears. Jace mimics the motion.
"This is incredible. How do they all fit in here?" he breathes.
"It's called the cloud. It backs up photos and files and messages." Jace stares at me like I have three heads. "Never mind, it's complicated."
"This is you?" A photo of me from a year ago displays itself, and I nod. Jace glances from me to the image and back.
"You're beautiful."
My skin heats at the absent-minded compliment as he gazes at the screen and swipes again. Then he freezes, and the air around us grows cold. He slowly lifts his eyes to mine .
"What is this?"
He turns the phone to me, and my mouth falls open.
It's a picture of Jack and me after a Yankees game. We got caught in a downpour on the way to the subway, and he pulled me to a stop outside the entrance. He said he just wanted to hold me in the rain. I told him he was crazy but risked the pneumonia to stand there with his arms around me. Then he reached into my back pocket, held up the phone, and snapped a photo of us—his smile wide as I stared up at him adoringly.
That's the image Jace now holds up to me.
"Jace," I start as he slides off the bed.
"Who is that?" he asks, eyes flashing.
"I told you that you reminded me of someone I used to know," I say feebly.
"That's an understatement!" he seethes. "You told me there was a resemblance, not that we share the same face!"
"I know it's a shock, but despite the resemblance, you are not the same person. Not at all."
"Oh, I know," he growls. "Who is that? Because it sure as hell isn't me."
"His name is Jack. He was my boyfriend," I rush to explain, watching him pace. "We were pretty serious. We almost got married."
"But you didn't?" He glances at me, golden eyes incredulous.
"No, I got scared, and I left. I never saw him again."
"You loved each other," he says. It isn't entirely a question, but I nod as he runs his hands through his hair, the movement so oddly like Jack.
"Did you think I was him? Is that why you—" He breaks off, shaking his head. "What am I to you? Am I just a stand-in for that person?"
"No, that has never been the case!" I scramble off the bed, trailing him. "When I first saw you, I didn't know what to think. Everything was so surreal. But I fell for you in spite of myself. It didn't matter that you looked alike. I fell for the male who picked me out of the Bone Forest and threw me in a dungeon. For the male that taught me to fight and made me strong. The one who showed me it was possible to love again when I thought I never would. I fell for you ." I pull him to face me.
"When I first got here, and you brought me to that cell, I told you that the king was my father." I reach for the phone before he can respond, pull up a picture of my dad, and turn the image to him.
"That is my dad. I thought he and King Derek were the same person at first—I mean, look at them. He's a carbon copy of my dad before he… before he died. And this"—I pull up a picture of Sam—"is my sister."
"She looks like Sorscha." His eyebrows knit together as he takes the phone from my hands, studying it.
"Sam and I don't speak anymore. But Sorscha and Sam are nothing alike. My sister is bratty, cold, and aloof. Sorscha is…like sunshine," I admit guiltily. "I knew right away that none of you were the people I knew."
"You should have told me." His voice is less hostile than it was moments ago, and I take the opportunity to run my hands over his arms.
"Jace, I know, and I'm so sorry. When I first came here, Zadyn said that if I were to say anything, it could alter nature's course, so I kept quiet."
"And you listened to him?" he hisses, his voice rising.
"Yes, why wouldn't I?"
"Because he's in love with you!" He explodes, breaking out of my grasp. His shout echoes off the walls, followed by a long silence.
No , I shake my head. That's impossible . That's crazy .
"He is not in love with me—he's with Cece." My protest is weak. Unconvincing. Jace barks a laugh in response.
"No, he's fucking Cece. He's not in love with her. There's a difference." His words lash out harshly, causing me to flinch.
"You should have told me," he fumes again, pacing the room, hands braced on his hips. I've never seen him so discomposed. He turns to me.
"What did you think was going to happen?"
"I don't know," I answer honestly. "Something bad. I felt like I would be messing with fate."
"I thought you didn't believe in fate," he bites out, hurling his words like an accusation.
Suddenly, I feel so small.
"I—I didn't."
My answer is clearly the wrong one. Jace throws his shirt over his head and scoops up his jacket, rushing for the door.
"I need some air," he says flatly. Unable to stop myself, I bound after him, still clutching my shirt against my naked chest.
"Look, I understand why you're upset, but give me a chance to explain. I will tell you everything. Jace, please."
Pathetic.
I am pathetic, tugging on his arm, begging him to stay. Maybe this is karma. He brushes me off easily, wrenching the door open as tears blur my vision.
I am not expecting to see a wide-eyed Marideth on the other side. Gazing between us, she says absently, "I wanted to speak with you. It's Dover, he's?—"
Her voice trails off as her intelligent eyes piece together Jace's disheveled hair and my state of undress. The look of shock on her beautiful face sends a flood of shame through me. Jace stands beside me, still as a statue .
"Good gods." Marideth shakes her head, her expression falling into steep disappointment.
"Marideth," I start, not knowing what I'll even say.
"I came by to tell you that Dover's parents set a date for the wedding." Her voice is cold as she eyes Jace suspiciously.
"I'm so sorry," I breathe, reaching for her hands. She rips them away and walks Jace back into the room, her frame pressed close to his.
"How could you," she hisses furiously.
"Marideth." His voice is pained.
"How stupid can you be?" she snaps and glances back toward me. "Both of you. I knew, I just knew , from the way you two looked at each other, that something was going on. And if I noticed, then surely I'm not the only one. How long?" She crosses her arms. The two of us, ashamed, say nothing.
" How long? " Her firm demand shakes free the words hanging on the tip of my tongue.
"It just happened."
"Well, it can't happen. If anyone else had seen this—" She slows her breath, closing her eyes and pinching the bridge of her nose. "You are courting the princess. And you are one of her ladies. You're her cousin . You're lucky she's so blindly enamored with you, or else both of your heads would be on the chopping block."
"She would never—" Jace starts.
"You don't think so? I've known her a lot longer than you have, Captain. Long enough to know that she does not respond well when you take what she is not willing to give." Her eyes slide to me. "You underestimate her. You see a bubbly little party girl who would rather sneak off to visit pleasure halls than sit in on her father's council meetings. But that female"—she prowls closer—"is capable of more than you know. "
I let that sink in, wondering what she could mean.
"This was over anyway." Jace sets his jaw, refusing to look at me. "Marideth, I know I don't have the right to ask, but please. Let me be the one to tell her." Jace wears a tortured expression as he begs the female.
"Are you mad? Don't you dare say a word to her. Just agree to end this now," she commands, eyes darting between our guilty faces.
"It's already done," Jace emphasizes as we exchange a look. His face is riddled with anger and disgust.
I've ruined everything. I want to run to him, to smooth that tension from his brow, to kiss his lips into a smile, to hold him until he breathes easy. But where we stood seconds ago, our bodies pressed together, we now stand on opposite sides of the room. It might as well be the other side of the world.
"Get out," Marideth says to Jace, her voice sounding tired. He shoves his arms through his jacket and smooths his hair off his head as he makes for the door, the hardened mask of the captain easing onto his face before my very eyes.
"Jace," I call. He turns halfway back to me and shakes his head with a sigh.
Did we ever really have a chance?
The look in his eye tells me what we both already know. This was doomed from the start. Realizing there is nothing more to say, he addresses me with a cold and removed voice.
"I'll see you tomorrow."
I stare at the door as it slowly clicks shut, his campfire scent still lingering sweetly in the air. A cruel tease indicating all that I cannot have. Marideth plops down in a chair, eyes roaming over me.
I turn to her. "Aren't you going to give me the third degree? Or lay into me about how wrong Jace and I are?"
"I've said enough tonight. And I said it because I am your friend." Her voice and eyes are soft as she repeats, "I am your friend."
The words make my heart clench. Her brow knits together as she glances over me.
"And what the hell are you wearing?"
"Fighting leathers." I sigh, throwing the shirt over my head and sinking into the seat across from her.
"The truth, please." Her cunning gray eyes lay me bare as she leans forward.
Here goes nothing.
"I'm the last Blackblood witch."
"Are you fucking serious?" She narrows her eyes.
I lean my head on the tip of my pointer finger. "You can't tell anyone."
"Don't worry, I'm your personal vault." She rolls her eyes sardonically. I expect a flood of follow-up questions, but Marideth keeps me on my toes, inspecting me for a long while before opening her mouth.
"This all makes sense now. Your sudden arrival at court, that bullshit story about the temple and the priestesses, your ‘ courtier lessons .'"
"I'm not a cousin of the king. I'm not from the temple, I'm just…me."
"You and Jace have spent more time together than you've been letting on."
"I've spent nearly every morning since I've been here training with him so I could bond my dragon."
"Your dragon?" she sputters.
"Prophyria," I supply, running a hand through my hair. "Jace and I just got back."
"You just got back from bonding a dragon?" Her eyebrows nearly reach her hairline.
"Mar, this information cannot leave this room. "
She nods. "We all have secrets. I understand. No one will know."
We sit in silence for a long time after that.
* ? Cue: Ode to Conversation Stuck in Your Throat… by Del Water Gap