Tarsus

The next morning, I brush a gentle kiss across Aden's cheek and slip out of bed, wrap a gold and crimson silk bathrobe around me, then quietly exit my room. I'd told Aden my plan to question Clavicle further. If Aden truly wants me to believe Clavicle is as innocent as he thinks, then I need to spend more time with him, get a good reading on his character. And after he nearly convinced everyone in the Cadre that he's innocent, I desperately need to get to the bottom of this.

After Clavicle was led out of the room, I got a report and update from the others. Apparently, the volcano is so bad now that even the colony of bats have had to relocate, according to Wolf. No wonder Abaddon didn't come for a visit, demanding we return him his Spine Sovereign. The meeting was a reminder that we're running out of time. Clavicle needs to stop this act of his and agree to calm the temper of Mother Terra. Because if he doesn't, we're all doomed.

Ulna is guarding Clavicle's guest room when I approach. I swear, I don't know when the general sleeps.

I reach for the door handle, but her voice stops me.

"Are you sure you should be seeing him, Your Grace?"

My teeth clench together. She shouldn't question me. But I know she's only looking out for my well-being. She was by my side the entire time Clavicle clung to the throne like it was the only thing that mattered to him. She helped me take him down.

She knows what happened last night, she's not dumb. She saw the puddle of cum that Clavicle was kneeling in. She saw how I was undone as I stood in front of him, my sated cock level with his mouth. Unlike me, she can view this whole situation objectively, without past emotions involved.

She was never in love with Clavicle like I was.

"Nothing of…that nature is going to happen again," I mutter through the thickness of my throat. "Not unless he wants it." And he won't. "I just…I still have questions. I need to crack this act he's got going on."

A dutiful mask falls into place, and Ulna steps aside, allowing me access to the room. "I'll be right outside, my lord," she says.

Nodding my thanks, I step in and close the door behind me. I expected Clavicle to still be asleep in bed at this hour in the morning. But the bed is empty, and I can hear the shower running. I automatically imagine him naked as he showers, the water soaking through that hot pink hair and dripping down his lean body. My cock stiffens, and I have to keep myself for walking in there and fucking him under the hot water.

He used to be mine. Mine to take care of. Mine to make love to. Mine to worship.

Then he turned to Mother Terra to care for him, turned to Abaddon for a good fucking, and turned to the humans to receive his worship. He killed his own father and dipped his skull in gold, setting it on a mantle as a reminder of his victory. Once he was sovereign, he didn't need me anymore, and when he realized that, he nearly killed me. Now he thinks he can pull the wool over my eyes in order to spare his life.

Clavicle is a madman, and if he thinks I'll fall for the poor-innocent-human-who-doesn't-remember-his-past act, then he's sorely mistaken. Because his missing pinky is all I need as proof. This is not the same Clavicle that I loved all those years ago.

I'm not prepared for the moment that he steps out of the bathroom. He doesn't see me as he crosses the room. Even in his human form, he's a heart stopper. His pink hair is sticking in every direction in wet, wispy locks. He's not as muscular as he used to be when he was a fae. He's lean and lanky, and, wearing nothing but his black-rimmed glasses and the white cotton towel around his narrow waist, he almost looks the vulnerable part he's trying to play.

I hate how into it I am.

Reaching down, I adjust my aching cock through my silk bathrobe, the memory of his lips sealed around my dick almost making me moan. But as much as I want it, I'll not force him again. Not the same Clavicle.

In nothing but his towel, he sits at the table by the window. The maid brought in a very human meal moments ago—the type she usually fixes for Aden—and the small table is laid out with fried eggs, several pancakes soaked in butter and syrup, hog sausage, juice, and a delicacy I know most humans love because Aden won't stop talking about it: coffee.

"Good morning," I say, stepping further into the room.

His entire body tenses, his fork clattering onto his plate. "T-. I didn't see you there."

For once, I actually believe him. I don't miss the way his tongue darts out to wet his lower lip.

"Eat," I say, noting how his knee is bouncing like it tends to do when he appears nervous.

His Adam's apple bobs with a hard swallow, and he picks up the fork and begins shoving eggs into his mouth. I sink down in the chair opposite him, watching him warily. The way he eats hasn't changed at all. Clavicle has always eaten every meal like it was his last, relishing every goddamn bite and cleaning every crumb off his plate. How he stays so skinny is beyond me. He cuts into his pancakes and takes a mouthful. A drop of syrup drips down his chin, and I imagine licking that drop off his chin. My cock twitches, growing harder than it already was, if that's possible. Not the same Clavicle.

I don't want to interrupt his dinner with another argument, so only when he's finished eating his food and downed his juice and coffee, do I speak.

"Do you remember anything yet?" I ask, deadpan. As if I didn't already know that he remembers everything.

His foot bouncing on the floor, he clasps his hands between his knees and quickly looks away—out the window—and it's in that shift of his eyes that I have all the confirmation I need that he remembers. As if I needed confirmation.

"Um…I don't…I mean." He licks his lips nervously, then meets my gaze, as if scheming on how to tell me what's on his mind in a way that'll convince me that he's innocent.

"I had a dream about…us." His cheeks turn almost as pink as his hair and he looks at his empty plate. The way he bites his lips makes me want to shove him to his knees right now and drive my dick into his mouth.

"What happened in the dream?" I ask, shoving the image of his lips around my cock away.

He meets my gaze again, his eyes glinting in the firelight. "We'd…just boned." He licks his lips nervously, and it's so fucking adorable I have to remind myself of what he looked like when he tried to kill me twenty-three years ago. "Then I remember thinking about how my father wouldn't approve of our relationship. How he'd kill you if he knew about us." I drag my gaze from his lips back to his eyes. "And how I needed to kill him before it ever got to that point."

His words hit me like a well-aimed dagger. There was a time when all Clavicle wanted was for us to be able to live out our love freely, without fear of his father killing me. There was a time when all he cared about was us.

But then the throne—the power—changed him.

"It makes sense that you would pretend to only remember the good times—and try to remind me of them as well. It's a great move to weaken me." And it's working, so I think I've about heard enough. "Let me know when you're ready to stop with the act," I snap, and stand. I need to get the fuck out of here before I fall for him again. Before I remember only the good and try to replay our past relationship. "Because right now, there's a massive volcano about to erupt and destroy the continent, and unless you quit this act and perform the duties of a sovereign, then we're all doomed."

"I don't even know what I'm supposed to do." His voice is shaky—another small detail that makes me want to believe he truly is as innocent as Aden claims. But I look at his missing finger, and my jaw tightens.

"Stop acting," I answer, then stride toward the door.

"You're not going to fuck my mouth this time?"

I pause, my cock growing harder at the thought, but don't look back at him. I should walk out. I should leave and not look back.

"Do you…want me to fuck your mouth?" Because gods-dammit, I wouldn't hesitate to make him do it if he wants it.

He's silent for a moment. Just when I think his silence means no, I reach for the door.

"Yes."

My eyes close, my cock aching with need as I take a deep, measured breath. "Yes, what?"

"Please. Please let me suck your cock."

Walk out. It's a trick. Not the same Clavicle.

"Please, . Come back."

I heave out a weak sigh. Walk out.

"Please don't leave me here."

It's a trick.

"Remind me what we used other have."

Not the same Clavicle.

But I find myself spinning on my heel and striding across the room toward him. He wants to suck my cock? He can be my guest.

"On your knees," I order, stopping inches from the chair where he sits.

His eyes widen, but he obediently falls to his knees before me.

"Don't think this changes anything between us." My voice is low, threatening. "Because I swear, as much as I want to fuck you, I want you dead more, and one wrong word, one move to betray me might just get you to your grave sooner, human."

I begin untying the sash from around my robe, expecting my threat to silence him. But he just keeps going like a fucking idiot.

"Trust me," he says, his eyes lowering to my cock. "If I knew how to knock you on your ass, I would have done it by now."

"Open your mouth."

He does me one better, opening his mouth and sticking out his tongue, giving my aching cock a perfect landing place.

I don't hesitate a moment longer before combing my fingers through his sexy, wet, pink hair and sinking my cock into his mouth.