53. Sorin

Chapter 53

Sorin

S orin watched the queen as she released her temper in the courtyard. Her witch-suit was gone. She was clad in her lightweight training pants and a long-sleeve tunic that barely covered her midriff. She held the Spirit Sword in one hand and threw fire and ice at the various wards, dodging and striking as they bounced back at her. Shadows swirled in her wake as she flipped and ducked and twirled, fighting against herself. He had been training her, yes, but he had not realized how much she had been practicing in her own time. How good she had actually become. He shouldn't be surprised, really. Downplaying her skills was what kept many from realizing how big of a threat she actually was.

But more than any of that, something had awoken since she had accepted her throne. Some inner barrier she had been keeping in place had been lifted. She had been wading slowly into her power before, cautiously experimenting. But now it appeared she had decided to plunge in and see how deep she could go. She hadn't been resting enough. Diving so deep so quickly was going to have serious consequences, and soon.

The others had dispersed quickly when she had left, Briar leaving to deal with Nakoa .

"The fucking Black Syndicate?" Eliza asked, still in disbelief, her tone accusatory.

"I can guarantee she has been holding back in training with you, Eliza," Sorin had replied. "I saw her fight with Death's Shadow, who is a Night Child by the way, with no magic. Pinned her to the floor with only a dagger, then laughed in delight about it."

"You were right, Cyrus, I might have competition after all," Eliza had said to his Second, a wicked smile crossing her lips.

"You have no idea," Sorin muttered. "That she did not get into a damn brawl with Nakoa is a testament to the control she has learned."

"She is truly Death's Maiden?" Cyrus asked, his eyes conveying the shock he still felt.

Sorin nodded. "Yes. She and the others, her sisters she will call them, tracked down Eliné's assassin…and then she personally took care of him. At the age of sixteen."

Cyrus swore viciously under his breath. "I suppose if she insists on going to the mortal lands, we will indeed have allies."

"She will have some there, but she is not on good terms with the Council and is on even worse terms with the Assassin Lord. The last time they crossed paths, he…hurt her," Sorin said through gritted teeth. If Scarlett would allow it, he would personally see to the revenge for everything she had experienced at his hand.

"Who are the Maraan Lords?" Rayner cut in quietly.

"That I do not know," Sorin replied grimly.

Secrets. She was keeping secrets again. After they had just had a discussion about not keeping secrets from each other.

"She knows more than she is letting on, Sorin," Eliza said. "Not only about the Maraan Lords but this man in her dreams—"

"I know," he ground out, cutting off his general. "I will talk to her."

"She can't keep things from us, Sorin. She can't—"

"I understand," he snapped, cutting her off again. "She is used to doing things herself, especially the last year. It will take her a little time to allow herself to depend on others. She has only known you a short amount of time. "

"She has only known you a few months longer," Eliza countered sharply.

"Precisely why I do not know a damn thing about the Maraan Lords," Sorin retorted icily.

Eliza had merely nodded in understanding at that, and they had dispersed, leaving him to deal with the queen.

He had felt her. He had felt every bit of rage and fury, but he had also felt the flinch when Nakoa had flung those words at her. He had felt where he had hit home. He had felt what had brought that darkness surging to the surface, unsummoned by her.

He was about to step forward as he watched her duck a trio of ice daggers when he stilled. In the span of a blink, she had formed those shadows swirling her into a solid punching bag. Flames wreathed her hands, like tape wrapped around them in combat training, and she began punching. One, two. One, two. One, one, two. Over and over again, her shadows holding strong as she hit and hit and hit.

Stop gawking and draw your sword or leave, Prince, echoed down their bond.

One, two. One, two. One, one, two.

Flames flared and his sword appeared in his hand. A second later, flames licked down his body, and his own training clothes appeared. He began towards her.

She didn't miss a beat as she pulled the sword that was sheathed at her back. That white fire of hers wreathed down its blade, and he sent flames down his own. This would be interesting.

When their blades struck the first time, flames flared. For the longest time, there was only their ragged breathing and clashing of their swords. He felt every emotion in every swing she took, every thrust and block. Rage. Clang. Fury. Clang. Guilt. Clang. More guilt. Clang.

Their flames danced with each other, her white flames and shadowfire mingling with his flames of gold and red and orange. Still, she kept swinging. Still, she kept coming at him.

"Scarlett."

She swung again. He met it .

Scarlett.

The swords clanged again, sending flames radiating out from them as they met.

Love.

She faltered as two tears trailed down her cheeks, and she dropped the Spirit Sword to the ground. Sorin instantly discarded his own weapon, closing the space between them and pulling her into his arms. She pressed her face into his chest, gripping his back.

"I did not ask for this, Sorin. I did not want this," she said, her voice cracking.

"I know, Love. I know," he replied gently, stroking her hair.

"No matter what decision I make, someone will suffer. I was not raised for this world, for this role," Scarlett said into his chest.

"Perhaps that is precisely why the Fates put you in it."

"The fucking Fates can piss off," she choked through her tears. "What is the point of it all, Sorin?"

"We do not get to know that. We do not get to know the end. We live in the here and the now, and we put one foot in front of the other. The Fates may have shoved you onto a throne you do not want, but you get to decide which stars will shine."

"Despite what Nakoa seems to think, I do recognize all the issues at hand. I do, Sorin."

"I know, Scarlett. I know you do," he answered, continuing with the soothing strokes of her hair.

"Callan needs to return home. His father is already suspicious. Nuri is likely ripping everyone's head off at being so confined. The Syndicate Council is going to filet me alive for leaving like I did. Talwyn is furious and needs me to help her close these rifts. Ashtine just dropped a bomb about these damn shadows, and Juliette and the High Witch gave commands of their own regarding these keys and Cassius. And then there are the orphans and Mikale and Veda to deal with, which honestly is the biggest issue of all of this. They have no idea…" she trailed off.

Sorin couldn't stifle his growl at the man's name on her lips. Before he could say anything, she whispered, "You've been at this for centuries. Tell me what to do. "

"No one tells you what to do, Princess, although many have tried," he replied, kissing the top of her head.

"Prick," she muttered.

"I will add that to the list," he murmured back, gently tilting her face up to his. He brushed a kiss to her lips. Then another. "I choose you, Scarlett Semiria. I choose you now and always, and I will follow you to the farthest star and beyond if that is where you wish to go."

"What if I choose wrong? What if I make the wrong choice?" she whispered, her eyes searching his own.

"Then we will deal with it, Scarlett. Together," he said. "Always together."

She was quiet for a long moment, just staring into his eyes, before she whispered, "I love you, Sorin."

"Hearing those words on your lips will never get old, Love. Five hundred years from now, they will still bring me to my knees," he said, leaning down to kiss her once more.

She brought her hands up around his neck, and he deepened the kiss, tasting all of her lavender and citrus and jasmine and embers. He gathered her to him, as if she would disappear in her own shadows. Lifting her off her feet, he stepped through a fire portal into their bedroom.

Then she was lifting her arms as he pulled her shirt from her body. Boots were somehow unlaced and shucked off in between kisses, and he was laying her on their bed. The bed they had shared for weeks now. He kissed and tasted and worshipped every inch of her, making her forget her worries and her responsibilities. His queen. His wife. His twin flame.

When she had found release around his fingers and then again against his mouth, he gripped her knees, tugging her roughly down the bed to him. She let out a surprised squeal as he settled between her legs. He lightly dragged his fingertips up her thighs, along her hips, up her navel.

"Have I told you lately how stunningly beautiful you are?" he asked, taking in all of that bare skin as though he hadn't just feasted on her moments before .

"Mmm," she hummed, stretching her arms above her head and arching her back slightly, her perfect breasts thrusting out. He lowered his mouth to one, sucking in the tip. "Yes, but I never tire of hearing it," she continued, her fingers sliding into his hair.

With a smirk against her skin, he bit down on her nipple at the words, and she hissed, her fingers tightening and yanking hard on his black strands. He chuckled darkly as he slid his lips to her other breast. "So violent," he murmured.

"Says the savage Fae who just bit me," she retorted breathlessly.

He swirled his tongue around that peaked point a few times, making her squirm beneath him, before he pulled back and purred, "You like it when I bite, Love." He slowly began dragging his canines up her chest to her throat. She tipped her head back as a small whimper escaped her, and he sucked lightly on her throat before he bit down. She gasped, her hips bucking against him in demand.

He growled with desire as he swiped his tongue against the small hurt before pulling back. He gently took her chin between his thumb and forefinger, her eyes fluttering open. Icy blue orbs with silver and flecks of gold swirling in them met his own. "You, Scarlett Semiria, are a necessity in my life."

Her features softened as her legs came up to wrap around his waist. He let her flip them, rolling onto his back as she settled on top of him. Her hair fell around them like a waterfall of starlight. She leaned in close, bracing her hands on his chest as she said softly, "You, Sorin Aditya, are the brightest star in my darkness."

Her lips met his, and she kissed him deeply, her tongue dancing against his. He felt her icy shadows as they skittered along his skin, and he sent heat into them, wrapping it around their bodies. Scarlett moaned against his mouth at the sensation of their magic mingling, and the sound had him hardening even more. He gripped her hips again, lifting her ass and lining her entrance up with him. Then in one smooth movement, he slammed her down onto him.

She sucked in a sharp breath, her nails digging into his flesh, as he groaned at the feeling of once again being buried deep inside her. It would never be enough. He would never get enough of feeling her tight heat around his cock. He would always want more, always crave another taste, one more time of her writhing beneath him and hearing her noises of pleasure.

She pushed herself up, grinding down and moving her hips in small circles around him. He cursed under his breath then he lifted her hips once more until he was almost completely withdrawn from her before pulling her down once more. The sound that came from her had him smiling in smug satisfaction before she took over the movements. He slid his hands to her thighs, gripping tightly as he watched her ride him, bringing herself closer and closer to her release once more. Her hands slid up her own torso and grasped her breasts as she tilted her head back in clear pleasure, and he brought his thumb to her center, rubbing against that bundle of nerves.

She let out a breathy noise, and he felt her begin to clench around him as she dropped forward, burying her face in his neck. He took once more, one arm sliding around her back and the other hand burying into her hair to hold her to him as he thrust into her again and again. She cried out as he felt her spasm and shudder around him, drawing his own release. He groaned her name as he came, clutching her tightly to his chest.

They were both still panting when he gently shifted her off him and rolled her to the side. She nestled into him, her head on his chest. Sorin stroked her hair in the quiet of their rooms as her breathing evened out, her body relaxed and sated against his own. He savored it. The feel of her against him. The sanctuary of their private chambers. He knew he should ask about the Maraan Lords she had referenced. He knew he should press about the blood magic books Eliza had found. But he knew she would go back to the mortal lands, and what lay in wait for them there would not lend much time for being together, not in this way. So he let her fall asleep in the middle of the afternoon, holding her tightly and not letting her go.