Chapter 8

8

KASSANDRA

I never thought in one million years that I’d feel peace being engulfed in Blaze’s arms.

Yet, as the Fall Prince holds me close to his chest, that’s the emotion that ricochets through me.

Peace.

Comfort.

Security.

A diminutive part of me knows I should hate him or at the very least fear him. I’ve seen firsthand how violent he truly is. Unconscious bodies litter the ground at our feet, after all.

Yet the terror I expect to feel never arises. It remains buried beneath a strange sense of serenity.

I inhale Blaze’s woodsy scent as he continues to hold me to him.

The two of us stand inside the guest cottage, though I’m not sure that word fits the desolate building. It’s nothing but wooden walls with circular holes for windows and a roof constructed out of twigs and leaves. A single cot rests against the far wall, and opposite it sits a chamber pot and wash basin.

This hut may even be smaller than Aleksander’s prison, which is saying something. I’m certain it once served as a supply shed or something similar.

Still, even as small as it is, it feels impossibly smaller with Blaze here. His presence dominates the space. With every inhale, I scent something akin to ash intermixed with heady pine. His body emits an almost palpable heat that begs me to lean in even closer to him.

What is happening to me?

Blaze places his hands on my shoulders and gently pushes me away. His hazel eyes—the exact shade of a dying forest, where the leaves have just begun to turn brown and brittle—ensnare my own.

I take a moment to study him, to survey him from head to toe. Panic claws at my defenses when I see fresh blood on his shirt. I gesture towards it desperately, but he simply grabs my wrist gently and pulls my palm up to his lips. He brushes feather-like kisses over my glove.

“I’m okay, little beast. It’s just a graze, and I heal quickly. You need to tell me everything.” His voice is a husky rasp that rushes through my veins like molten lava. “I’ve been going out of my mind with worry.” He swallows. “One tick you were there, and the next…”

You were gone.

Those unspoken words settle between us like a plume of noxious gas.

I lick my suddenly dry upper lip and then move to perch on the bed. After only a moment, Blaze joins me, his huge body causing the bed to creak ominously.

I lift my hands and begin to sign slowly, carefully, giving him ample time to read each flick of my fingers.

“Calan took me,” I begin. “He wanted my help in finding the Death Whisperer.”

Blaze goes perfectly still—almost like a statue—and his hands form tight fists on his massive thighs. His body reverberates with what sounds like a growl.

Calan is unaware that this entire time, the fae he’s been looking for is…me. I’ve been directly under his nose this entire journey.

“Calan blames the Death Whisperer for the death of his brother,” I sign.

Despite everything Calan has done to me, I still feel a pang of pity and grief on his behalf. I’ve never been overly close to anyone before—unless you count my imaginary friend Raven—but I can’t imagine the pain one would feel losing someone you love, especially a sibling.

Does that excuse Calan’s actions? Not at all.

But it does make it easier for me to forgive him. After all, there’s no room in my heart for anger.

I gloss over my journey to the Summer Court—and the heated kiss I shared with Calan that still makes my lips tingle deliciously—and explain what happened at Gaia’s temple. Through it all, Blaze remains very, very still. I only need to repeat myself a few times. He must’ve been practicing Falkan while we’ve been separated.

The prospect makes my chest feel warm and tight.

“Who in the bloody hell would attack Gaia’s temple?” Blaze rages, baring his teeth.

He jumps to his feet and begins to pace. I rest my gloved hand over his in an attempt to calm him and use my free hand to sign.

“I have no idea. But that isn’t even the strangest thing that happened.” I debate my next words carefully.

Do I trust Blaze enough to tell him the truth of what happened with Aleksander and Patric? The answer should be a blatant no. Blaze has done nothing in all the time I’ve known him to earn my trust. He kidnapped me, used me, and treated me as a pet.

Yet…

My hands move before my brain can catch up, forming the words that may change the future for us irrevocably.

I tell him about Aleksander, the Amorites, and Patric. Before I can mention the mysterious Mark of Chaos, Blaze does something that surprises me.

He lunges forward, hauls me to my feet, and kisses me.

My lips part instinctively, and Blaze uses the opportunity to tangle his tongue with mine. I’ve kissed before—heck, I’ve kissed Blaze before—but not like this. Never like this. It’s like he’s trying to imprint himself on my mind, body, and soul.

Gaia, it’s working.

I know Blaze has experience, and before, that may have bothered me, but right now, I feel nothing but gratitude. I could have him kiss me forever.

Nerves tangle in my belly as Blaze tilts my head to the side to deepen the kiss. Two contradictory voices scream in my head.

STOP THIS! NOW!

Don’t ever stop this.

I never really considered someone to have a taste before, but I have to say Blaze’s is delicious.

Sweet, almost, but not in a way that’s sickening. There’s a bitterness to the kiss that fits the male before me perfectly.

His fingers move to my hair, and I don’t hold back the involuntary gasp that escapes me. It feels so good. Too good.

I’m not used to feeling good.

Sensations claw through me, but I can’t put my finger on what they are. All I know is the heat from his gaze drives the lingering chill away, and my skin prickles as it regains feeling. It’s almost as if I’ve been encased in ice for my entire life and his kiss is capable of thawing my prison, reducing it to nothing but liquid.

For a moment, our kisses are nothing but rough nips, fighting tongues, and playful bites—at least from him. I’ll be the first to admit that I’m too much of a coward to initiate anything.

However, when he moves to pull away, I find that I don’t want to let him go. I inch my gloved hands upwards to tangle in his messy red-brown hair, and I give the strands a tug. I wish I could feel them beneath my fingertips. Would they be as soft as they look?

Blaze groans low in his throat and grips my hips, pulling me flush against him. Something hard pokes my belly, and I’d have to be an imbecile not to know what that is.

But he’s big . Much bigger than any guy from before.

Almost too big.

Blaze begins landing open-mouthed kisses across my jawline and to the sensitive spot directly below my ear. There, he allows his tongue to flick out and create tantalizing patterns across my skin.

“You’re so beautiful, Kassandra,” he whispers against my flesh. “So beautiful. So perfect. So mine.”

I want to protest and tell him that I’m not his, but the words get lodged in my throat, especially when he reaches for the buttons lining the back of my dress. He pauses there, hesitating, before roughly asking, “Is this okay?”

Logically, I know I should refuse. If there was ever a time to put an end to things, now would be it. I have a feeling that we’re crossing a line we won’t be able to come back from.

But instead of shaking my head in refusal, I nod once and pull him closer.

He deftly undoes my buttons one after another, and I once again marvel at how skilled he is with his hands.

Just how many fae females has he done this with?

As soon as that thought comes to the forefront of my mind, it’s all I can focus on, all I can think about. My brain conjures up images of different fae in various stages of undress.

Kissing him.

Touching him.

“You’re perfect, Kassandra. My Kassandra. My little beast.” His fingers dip down the front of my gown, and all worries dissipate in an inferno, reduced to nothing but ash.

His fingers graze my sensitive nipples, and I jolt at the unexpected touch. I’ve never given my breasts much thought before—except for wanting to hide them from lewd gazes—but they’re incredibly sensitive. Pleasure dances down my spine with each flick of his fingers against my sensitive nubs.

He moves his lips back to my collarbone and rains kisses across the skin there. I arch backwards as he works his way down my throat and between my breasts. As he kisses me, he tugs my dress farther down until my breasts are unveiled.

I suddenly feel shy and self-conscious. I’m not sure anyone has ever seen this much of me before. What if he doesn’t like what he sees? I know Blaze has been with hundreds of females. How could I possibly live up to them?

But once again, Blaze manages to ease my worried thoughts when he cups one of my breasts and runs his finger over my pebbled nipple.

“Beautiful.” His voice is awed and reverent. “Kassandra, you are the most beautiful female I’ve ever laid eyes upon.”

I search his face for any sign of deceit or mockery, but all I see is sincerity. And another emotion. Something softer. Something foreign.

He drops to his knees before me—Blaze, the prince who once claimed that he’d never kneel for another living being—and pulls my dress down the rest of the way. I step out of the gaudy fabric until I’m standing before the Fall Prince in nothing but lacy white panties, my mismatched gloves, and a pair of black slippers. I’m sure I look a mess, but Blaze gazes up at me as if I’m the most beautiful fae he’s ever seen before.

My heart races in my chest.

Instinctively, I lower my hands to his shoulders and apply the slightest amount of pressure. He chuckles, and the low, delicious sound sends heat straight to my cheeks.

And then he tilts his head back and licks at my damp panties, directly over my core.

I gasp as pleasure courses through me and then begin to rock my hips against his mouth. Seeking more. Seeking something .

Quick as a whip, Blaze places his arms underneath my thighs and hoists me up. My back slams against the rickety wall of the shed, but it doesn’t hurt. If anything, it amplifies the pleasure rushing through me. Blaze positions my legs on either side of his head and then places his lips to my core once more.

I gasp as he slowly pushes aside my panties and breathes me in.

“You smell so good,” he rasps, his muscular arms anchoring me in place. “I wonder if you’d taste as good.”

An audible ripping sound echoes through the tiny hut, and then Blaze throws my wet panties to the side. Embarrassment floods me.

I feel so incredibly vulnerable right then and there. I can’t help but think of every male in the past who took from me without my consent.

But yet Blaze isn’t taking from me.

He’s giving me something.

I gasp as the Fall Prince buries his face in my pussy.

I press my palms flat against the wall as I jerk my hips up, trying to capture all of the pleasure he’s willing to give.

Yet Blaze doesn’t speed up, doesn’t give in to my silent pleas. He continues to lick my center slowly and sensually—teasing me.

Heat kindles in my lower belly when Blaze grazes his teeth along my clit.

I'm so close.

So close.

And then Blaze thrusts a finger deep inside my channel, and I explode. I drown in a maelstrom of sensation so intense I’d be surprised if I didn’t black out for a tick.

When I come to, I see Blaze holding me through the length of my orgasm. Caring for me. Loving me. He strokes my long, sweaty hair out of my face and whispers my name softly. I want to respond, but my body’s too heavy. I can’t lift my hands to sign.

Blaze bundles me against his chest and then carries me to the bed. My eyelids feel like lead weights, and they droop as I settle my head on his chest, directly over his rapidly beating heart.

And that’s how I fall asleep.

In the arms of the villainous prince.