19. Vale

Chapter 19

Vale

M oonlight filtered through the sheer curtains, bathing the room in an ethereal glow. Warm, sated, and undeniably naked, I traced the dark swirls of Kian's tattoos with my fingertips. His large body was curled around mine, his arm hooked around my middle, holding me so close, his slow breaths tickling the skin of my neck.

Something told me I wasn't awake, but I wasn't exactly sleeping, either. It wasn't until golden eyes flashed on the balcony, did I realize what it was.

Or, rather, who it was.

Idris.

His dark-brown hair fluttered in the winter wind, his jaw flexing with his ire as he stared at the arm around my middle, at the man at my back, at the way we were curled around each other. I drew the sheets up, covering my chest.

No matter what we had between us, I didn't want him seeing me unclothed. He only would see that if I chose to show myself to him, not sneaking by into my dreams like a voyeur.

Idris' eyes glowed brighter, hotter, and he melted through the glass balcony doors, entering the room as if he owned it. I supposed he did. He owned everything in this place except for me, and I suspected that pissed him off more than anything.

That golden gaze latched onto my shoulder, the very same one that had been pierced through by an assassin's blade. It was also the same shoulder Kian had marked with his pleasure, but that had faded almost as suddenly as it appeared.

Now there was only the reminder of my attempted murder.

If the mirror was to be believed, the scar wasn't too awful. I had worse on my back. This new one was faded to a pale white of old wounds, the magic used to heal me taking most of the ugliness away from the flesh.

Why he was staring at it like he wanted to go to war was beyond me.

Silently, he approached the bed, head tilted, eyes flashing, his emotions bombarding me, even though I didn't know his mind, I just knew what I was feeling was coming from him.

Jealousy. Rage. Envy. Need. Affection. Obsession. Each one was like one of my bolts, hitting me right in the chest.

"What are you doing here?" I hissed, pitching my voice low as to not wake Kian. Then I realized just how ridiculous that was. Kian wasn't really here. I wasn't here, either. None of us were.

"Answering your call like always, my brave one. Why do you always call to me in your dreams?"

I sat up, clutching the sheet to my chest.

"I call to you in my dreams?" I scoffed. "No, you invade them."

A tiny bit of shame tugged at my heart. He'd helped me survive, of course, but this… This was him just being pissed off and nosy.

His eyes flared, his jaw clenching as his power blazed against my skin, his emotions flickering with his magic.

Want. Desire. Tenderness.

"Wrong, my brave one. I cannot come where I am not summoned. A part of you pulled me here. Why is that? Why do you want me to see you in this bed? Do you want me in it?"

Okay, so I'd gone to bed worried about Xavier and Idris. I'd considered my time with Kian could anger them, but… Like with Kian, I felt a connection to the others. A tie. A need. I didn't understand it, didn't know why I needed them, I…

"I d-don't… I didn't… I didn't do it on purpose." Scanning my surroundings, I tried to understand how I could have brought him here. "Where is here, exactly? You never answer that question."

Naturally, he didn't answer me this time, either.

Instead, the room around us faded away. The blue and amber walls bled to red. The coverlet changed, the bed. Kian wasn't curled around me anymore, the weight of his arm long gone. Now, I was wrapped in burgundy sheets, the silky fabric sliding over my naked skin as my surroundings settled into a bedroom I'd seen before.

The four posts of the frame rose high around me, the drapes of them drawn back as a crackling fire hissed and popped in the grate.

And I wasn't alone in this bed.

Propped up on the pillows, his back to the headboard, Idris sat shirtless. A golden medallion hung from his neck, the glowing stone in the center throbbing like the beat of a heart against tanned planes of war-hardened flesh. Scars and tattoos swirled together over the chiseled muscle, the firelight making his skin almost glow.

The silky sheets pooled around his hips, obscuring this lower half without leaving anything to the imagination. Not only was Idris just as naked as I was, but he was also aroused.

Desire. Need. Need. Need.

"What is this? What are you doing?" I demanded, probably not as offended as I should have been. It was as if those emotions were invading my senses, bending me to his will.

"Making it fair." His voice was a sexy rasp akin to honey over hot coals. "Now I'm just as naked as you are." His mouth quirked up into an almost grin, the impish quality almost boyish for someone his age.

Tucking the sheet around me, I caught the flare to his eyes as they zeroed in on my tight nipples. That grin grew wider, the bastard, and naturally, they puckered under his gaze, practically begging for him to touch them.

Taste them.

"You and I both know this isn't fair." Was that my voice? That breathy, needy whimper? And why did he affect me so much? "What do you want, Idris?"

His eyes went heavy lidded as he turned toward me, sliding to his side in the sheets. "I like the way you say my name. Do it again."

Shit. As much as his voice and body were lulling me into some very bad decisions, I needed to keep my head about me.

"You know nothing about me, and based off the last week, you don't care to."

His lips pressed together into a firm line. "It's harder for me to be with you than I thought it would be. Here it's safe."

Funny, it didn't feel safe. Nothing with him did.

"I'm not a toy for you to play with when it suits you."

Idris closed the distance between us, his fiery skin almost but not quite touching mine. If it weren't for the silky sheets, he would be able to feel my heart thundering in my chest.

"You are not, nor have you ever been, a toy. But I still want to play with you." His voice was calling to me, pulling at a thread I couldn't place.

The tip of his index finger traced my lower lip, his eyes focusing on my mouth. "Will you let me play with you, Vale? Will you let me touch you?"

Every time we were like this, he would lull me into his arms, igniting the flames of my need before flitting away. Either that or he was apologizing for his idiocy. But he never really answered my questions, and I hated it.

I'd have to strike a bargain.

"I will give you one kiss if you tell me where we are. Tell me how you can speak to me this way. Tell me something, Idris. How did you take my pain away, why ? —"

Idris dipped his head, his lips almost touching mine. "That's at least three questions, my brave one. That means three kisses, correct?"

Rolling my eyes, I prayed to the gods for patience. "Fin ? —"

Before I could even get the word out, Idris' searing kiss branded my mouth. There was no other word for it. He didn't just capture my lips, he owned them, laying claim like the king he was. His arm was an iron band around my back as he tucked me under him, his hard body pressing into me, lighting me on fire.

"I can make you forget them, Vale," he murmured against the tender skin of my neck. "I can make it so you want only me."

It was as if he'd dumped me into a frozen lake.

Without trying, I shoved him from me, knocking him off the bed and onto the floor. He wanted me to forget them—forget Kian and Xavier?

The men who'd saved me.

Who'd stood between me and certain death.

Who'd cared for me?

Who'd stolen me from the clutches of Orrus himself?

Drawing the sheet around me, I yanked it from the bed, holding it to my breasts as I pushed off the mattress. Idris was tangled in the coverlet, shock stamped all over his face.

"No. You can't. And until you get it through your thick skull that I will never choose only you, you will always be on the outside of that balcony looking in."

And unlike every other time, Idris didn't fade away with me hanging onto him. No, I shoved him away, taking back the section of my mind that he'd occupied. He did not rule here, I did. I changed the scene, returning to Kian's bedroom.

Only then did I notice Xavier resting on the floor on the side I'd been sleeping on. He was on his side, his white hair fanned out on the floor, his head resting on his biceps.

I didn't know if this was a dream or if this was reality. I didn't know if I would wake up next to him or in bed with Kian. But none of that mattered. I pulled a pillow off the bed and gently put it under his head. Then I drew Idris' sheets around me and curled into the crook of his hips, fitting my back against his chest as I fanned the sheet over us.

Idris thought he could make me forget them?

Never.

I shouldn't have woken up alone.

For the last four days, I'd woken with either Kian or Xavier by my side, their presence a balm to my soul after the attack. They'd taken shifts, teaching me combat and magic, royal protocol and the histories of Festia. Unlike Credour as a whole, Festia had its own set of customs.

After living under the mountain my entire life, the intricacies of castle protocol made my brain hurt.

More, I'd have thought Kian would be with me. But what worried me wasn't that I was completely alone in the room, the fading light of the day drifting through the sheer curtains. No, it was the familiar burgundy sheet wrapped around my body and the scent of Xavier, Idris, and Kian on my skin. I'd gone to bed in Kian's arms, and I hadn't seen Idris in days. There should be no reason this sheet was around me and his scent was on my skin, and yet…

We had already established that in those dreams, we spoke mind to mind, but never did I think that I could actually take something with me when I left them. The fact that Idris' sheet was actually here only proved those dreams weren't dreams at all. Stomach in freefall, I tried to understand.

That kind of power, that kind of… It just didn't make any sense.

And worse?

It scared the absolute shit out of me.

I flinched as the doors to Kian's bedchamber flew open, my fist closing around the hilt of a bejeweled dagger. Freya waltzed through the entrance while she popped a grape into her mouth, her single red eyebrow the only tell that she knew exactly what Kian and I had been up to for the last day and a half. And if I could smell Idris and Xavier on my own skin, I knew for a fact she could, too.

Who knew what she thought?

She fanned her face with an embossed white card. "At least someone is getting lucky around here. All I've had for the last few days is stonewalls, roadblocks, and fuck all to show for it. I don't know who's trying to kill you, girlie, but damn if they don't cover their tracks like an expert."

Of the things she could have said to me, that was just about the least comforting thing I could think of. Then again, I hadn't spent the last few days scouring the continent for my would-be assassin and she had, so maybe I should just be grateful that she was still alive to warn me.

I shuddered at the memories that I'd tried so hard to forget. His milky white stare, the black magic that had swirled around his head, filling his mouth, those blackened teeth. And those voices coming out of his throat…

"I'm sorry," I said stupidly, unsure how I could apologize for wasting her time. I doubted Freya actually enjoyed hunting people on my behalf, but she'd done it.

"Don't be sorry. I don't like it when someone breaks into my home and hurts people under my protection. And you weren't the one who covered your tracks so well, even I couldn't beg, borrow, or steal answers out of the lowest of the lows. Though, when I find whoever it is, I will gladly drain them dry. So, if you're keen on revenge, you're shit out of luck. I call dibs."

The snort that came out of me was wholly inelegant, but it did make the ancient vampire smile so, at least there was that.

"Do you happen to know where my previous guards are?"

"You mean your dragon boy toys?" she teased, a wicked smile curling her lips. "They're off using their noses to do what I can't. Hopefully, they'll be back before night falls. Then maybe they can entertain you while you go to this."

She handed over the fancy white card, and I clutched the sheet tighter to my chest to avoid flashing her while I took it.

The invitation was sickeningly formal with my name scrawled at the top in swirling calligraphy.

It would be my greatest pleasure to have you join me in the royal dining hall for dinner this evening. I eagerly anticipate the pleasure of your company and the opportunity for us to get to know each other better.

Yours respectfully,

Idris

When I looked up from the invitation, Freya was covering her mouth with her surprisingly delicate fingers, attempting not to fall down laughing.

"Is he kidding with this?" I asked, flinging the stupidly expensive cardstock away from me as if it burned.

"Unfortunately, I don't think so," she said on a chuckle, her humor wholly unhelpful. "But at least he's making an effort to be sociable instead of staying the broody asshole we've all come to know and love. Trust me, little Luxa. He could most definitely be worse."

I had no idea what he expected to accomplish with this dinner. He didn't want to get to know me—not really. He wanted something to play with. Something to pass the time until this curse thing got figured out. And as soon as it did, he'd flit off to parts unknown.

I trusted that Kian wanted me, that Xavier did, but Idris? He wanted to be free more than he wanted anything else.

But I didn't think I could refuse—not without looking like a fool.

I wrinkled my nose at the white paper. "What the hell am I supposed to wear?"

If it were possible to kill Freya, I would have. I didn't know the first thing about murdering a vampire other than the ramblings of the guild, and after everything, trusting the guild was plain idiocy.

"I'm pretty sure I hate you," I muttered, pulling at the collar of my cloak, the only thing that was keeping the castle at large from seeing me in this damn dress.

"You're the one who said I couldn't show your back," Freya said on a sigh. "That left me with limited options. If I can't show your back or shoulders, then you get this."

She was right: I wasn't revealing either my back or shoulders. The first, because I had no intention of discussing the heretic mark on my back, and the second, because of the memory of his burning gaze on my shoulders. Instead, she'd dressed me in a confection of a dress with a neckline so deep that it was holding in my chest by a wing and a prayer, the gossamer fabric one wrong move away from ripping in half.

"Had I known this was my only option, I would have picked something else," I hissed, fighting off the urge to cross my arms over my chest. I'd been starving for years, but the sudden influx of food had given me padding where there had been none before.

"What's the problem?" Freya asked on a whisper as we passed three members of the council in the corridor. "You look beautiful. If Idris manages to keep his hands off of you, I'd be surprised."

I shot her a glare. "You are too old to play that stupid. Him keeping his hands to himself is the problem."

Freya's devilish eyebrow rose as her lips pulled into a grin, the door to the royal dining hall nearly upon us. "Is it a problem for him or for you? I know whose sheets you were wearing when you woke up. The nose doesn't lie."

That was just it, wasn't it? His scent shouldn't have been on my skin. His sheets shouldn't have been around me. I'd pulled them out of a dream—one I didn't understand at all. How could I just walk in there and talk to him after that?

"What if I told you that I've never physically been in his room, but I managed to take those sheets with me when I woke up from a dream?"

Freya's grip on my arm was nearly bruising as her gaze drilled into me. Red flooded the whites of her eyes as scarlet veins crawled up her neck. "You dream walked? With Idris? How many times?"

I swallowed hard, my mind blanking. "Th-three? I think?"

"That's all? And you managed to take something with you when you woke up?"

Nodding, I yanked my arm out of her hold. "Why?"

Freya's smile was in direct odds with the scarlet veins and red eyes. "No one else besides Idris has been able to do that in two hundred years. No wonder they want you dead." The hushed laugh that came from her was three parts relief and two parts hysteria.

"You're the curse breaker."

Freya looked around, pulling me to an alcove similar to the one Idris had what felt like years ago. "In case it was unclear to you, keeping Luxa alive has been kind of a problem for us. Usually, they die the first day, and definitely after the second trial. But you? They didn't wait for you to die on your own, so they know something we don't. You have to watch your back, understand?"

Hesitantly, I nodded.

"You're armed, right?"

"Of course. After the assassin?—"

"Good. You should be safe around Idris. They won't mess with you around the king, but don't drop your guard. Desperate people are sloppy, and desperate, power-hungry people are reckless." She grabbed my hand, guiding me back toward the dining hall. "And finish that book I gave you. It's important."

Frowning, I wondered what that had to do with anything, but she didn't give me a chance to tell her I had no idea where the damn book was. She wrenched the door open, and practically shoved me through the thing.

Standing near the giant fireplace, Idris looked up from the flames. His gaze flicked from me to Freya before the vampire gave me another little push and slammed the door shut behind me.

A man in a formal tunic seemed to appear at my left, making me jump. I nearly reached for my dagger before he held his hand out.

"Your cloak, Miss."

My gaze went from the man to Idris and back as my whole body tensed. Reluctantly, I removed my cloak, passing it off to him. The mostly nondescript man winked out of sight, seeming to vanish before my very eyes, my cloak in his hands.

What in the ? —

Before I could wrap my brain around a man just disappearing into thin air, Idris approached, his presence so familiar, I could practically feel him cross the room to me, ramping the heat of the room up one degree at a time.

With nowhere else to look, I finally lifted my chin and met his gaze. Those golden orbs seemed to spear me right in the chest as he held out his hand. And just like in our dreams, I could feel his emotions as if they were my own.

Contrition, hope, optimism, desire.

"You look beautiful. Every time I see you, it's like I've forgotten just how exquisite you are, and then you appear and remind me."

Dammit. How was I supposed to keep my head when he said things like that?

"Thank you for meeting me. I know after how I behaved last night, you might refuse, but I'm glad you didn't."

This was why I didn't want to be anywhere near him. It clouded my brain, muddled everything. How could I watch my own back if I was losing myself to him?

"I can't very well scold you for not getting to know me and then refuse when you try, now, can I?"

His full lips quirked up, his almost-smile appealing in a way I absolutely hated. It made him seem almost caring, but I was still mad at him for being a stupid, jealous idiot.

"Please, come sit with me."

"Go on, my Queen," Rune muttered, his voice so close it nearly made me jump. "How will you break a curse without knowing the person beneath its weight?"

I fought off the urge to roll my eyes at the damn dragon inside my head. Childishness wouldn't serve me here anymore than rage would serve me in the guild. And dammit, if Rune wasn't right. If I wanted my sister back, I'd have to actually get to know the man I'd have to ask for help, wouldn't I?

But it wasn't just that. I actually wanted to get to know him, I just didn't think he'd let me.

"And I was hatched yesterday," Rune muttered. I had no idea he was so well-versed in sarcasm. Honestly, if he had an eyebrow to raise, he'd be doing it. "If you'd just admit you kind of like the idiot, this would go a lot smoother."

"I would, but he keeps being a possessive jerk and assuming he knows what I want instead of asking me."

"And you actually know what that is? Could have fooled me."

Did I? I'd been pulled in so many directions, I felt out of place and off-balance. People were trying to kill me, and I…

Idris pulled out a chair close to the head of the table, and I sat, staring at the extravagant place setting, trying to remember what fork I was supposed to use and when. Rune was needling me just because he could, the jerk, and he knew I wouldn't ignore him.

Not after what he'd done to save me.

"You could be nicer about it. Damn."

"And you could get your shit together. Looks like we're both screwed."

Never mind. Shutting him out was the only solution to his sassy ass.

"I'm ignoring you for the rest of the night."

Idris sat on the chair next to me at the head of the table, his expression wary as he stared at my hand. That's when I noticed the faint glow coming from my skin, even with no cut in sight.

Embarrassed, I pulled my hand under the table.

"Great. Look what you made me do. He's going to think I'm mad at him now."

"Aren't you? I thought he was being a high-handed asshole?"

Clearing my throat, I grasped for the first question I could think of like a lifeline. "Do you have any siblings?"

It was dumb. I could have asked him what his favorite color was or if he had any hobbies, but everything seemed too trivial. None of it was what I wanted to know.

Idris' quirked his head as a frown marred his brow. "They really do keep the guild in the dark, don't they?" He huffed a mirthless laugh, his shoulders straightening. "Do you really know nothing about me? Nothing at all?"

And while I'd caught that he was answering a question with a question, his was a good one, so I answered it. "No, actually. Other than all magic-users being evil and you being the beast of them all? You're more of a mythical, never seen but always feared kind of thing. Plus, they worked us so hard, thinking about who we were actually at war with was secondary to staying alive."

He paled slightly, his jaw tightening, but he gave me a solemn nod. "I do—have a sibling. A brother. But you could say we're not close. And you have a sister. Nyrah, I believe."

Dread and fear made my chest ache. I hadn't told him about her on purpose. "How do you know that?"

Idris' was gaze assessing but kind. "The first time we dream walked. You were trying to save her. That was your sister, right? She was tied to the stake like you were. Cut like you were. But she faded away in your hands. Does she still live?"

Hot pricks of tears hit the back of my eyes. "I don't know. We got separated. I hope she made it out. It's pretty much the only thing keeping me going."

Well, that and I didn't want her in my shoes.

"That's it. That's why," Idris murmured, his smile almost sad. "She is why you stay. She's why you risked the caverns, even though my closest friends wanted to steal you off the continent. Why you faced Rune. Why you remain, even when you've nearly been killed. Why you train like your life depends on it."

His laugh was mirthless, his shoulders drooping in defeat. "I'm a fucking idiot. Rune didn't kill you because you don't want anything but your sister alive."

Before he could continue, a pair of those nicely dressed men popped into the room from nowhere, holding silver-domed platters. In tandem, they set them at our place settings, removed the covers, and then winked back out of sight.

The scent from the food was heavenly, and my poor stomach chose to make its hunger known, growling so loud it echoed around me.

I could be sad and still eat, dammit.

The faint scent of almonds combined with a sweet, candied aroma filled my nose as my mouth watered.

"Do not eat that," Rune warned, his voice so loud I winced.

"But I'm hungry," I protested, lifting my fork.

"I didn't wait two hundred years in silence for you to die on me. I said, don't eat that."

Then as if the dragon in my head was controlling my movements, my hand flung the fork and plate from my grip, slopping the dish across the table. It slid off the wood before falling over the edge, crashing to the floor.

Then the scent registered, and I finally understood.

Shock had Idris' fork poised in front of his open mouth, and I flew out of my chair, slapping the utensil full of death away from his face. I splattered his shirt with the vile stuff, but luckily stopped him from doing what I almost let myself do out of spite.

"What the fuck, Vale?" Idris sputtered, but I only whispered one word in answer.

And that one word was enough to send a thread of fear through him that I could feel myself.

"Poison."