Chapter 114

Silas

If I could've raised Magnus from the dead and killed him another time, I would have, when I saw the state of Jessalyn's wrists. She was sitting perched on the kitchen bench, the staff all milling about wide eyed as Creed went to work. He pawed through the herb box, the poisons my father had left there cast into the fire, even as the head cook made a small sound of distress. That died in his throat when Creed whirled to face him. Instead, pans and kettles were filled with water and set on the fire to boil, teas steeped from medicinal herbs brought down from the infirmary, and while Creed bustled around, I moved closer.

"That bastard…" I barely whispered the words as I stroked my fingers up her arm. She winced and went to pull away before I got to the bruises, but I would never touch her wounds. I knew how to inflict pain, not heal. "He never should've gotten within ten feet of you. What happened? We left you in the camp."

I wanted answers and I didn't, something Jessalyn noted with a long look.

"Your father…" She said that as gently as possible, but I was the one flinching now. "He drugged Creed and the other wolf shifters with these darts."

"I know which ones you mean."

It could've been worse. It was no consolation, but Father could've chosen to kill all of them for the sin of being in the way of what he wanted. As a child I had stood back and watched him end people's life with no more thought than others paid to what they were having for breakfast. It'd made me shiver back then, but now I felt hot, far too hot. Blood pulsed through my veins, my hands cramping as I kept my touch deliberately light, then was forced to pull them away, lest I leave marks of my own.

We had left Jessalyn somewhere safe, we thought, to fight our collective enemy, but all of our focus on Magnus ignored one thing. Behind all of this was yet another power, one only I could bring down. I raised her hand gently then brushed my lips across her knuckles. The flush in her cheeks was everything, making it difficult to pull away, but I must. The need to touch her, kiss her, tug down the neckline of her dress and map every curve or hollow of her body with my lips was burning hot inside me, but I couldn't. Roan wanted to whisk Jess away to a bed and celebrate a victory the only way he knew how, but as I met Arik's eyes across the table, I knew we were of the same mind.

"Your father must die," he told me as we pulled away, allowing Creed to go to work. We watched the way he applied the poultice then bound bandages around her wrists with interest.

"I know."

"But not today." He held my gaze, waiting to see evidence that I understood. "Only one death of a mortal enemy a day, that's our new rule."

"Then I'll rise at dawn," I replied.

"And I'll rise with you."

There was a comfort to be gained from his offer, but it wasn't one I could accept. I shook my head slowly, listening to the nonsense words Creed spoke as he tended to our girl. Soft things, sweet things, telling her how good and perfect and brave she was. She beamed in response, even if the shadows in her eyes made clear she didn't quite believe them.

"Blood in, blood out," I said, tapping my chest. "The deaths that happen within The Guild are always witnessed by its members. It creates a neat web of culpability, each one of us guilty of at least neglecting to report the crimes that go on within our walls." I met his gaze head on. "A king cannot allow himself to get caught up in that."

"I'm your brother before I'm the king," he replied.

"In this matter, I need to keep things to blood family only."

"There you go!" Roan put a hand around Jess' shoulders and helped her down from the table. "Now, did you want to scull a tankard of ale like any other soldier or—"

"Bed." I said that without thinking, Roan's eyes twinkling as he considered what that might mean. "To sleep. We're all dead on our feet, though I'm thankful that's not literally true and tomorrow will be… heinous. Rest now if we can't sleep."

For once, everyone agreed with me.

Bringing Jessalyn back to the room we shared in the guards' quarters was strange, not only because the rooms were now all completely empty. Any of the guards that had stood against us were dead and those that lived had slipped from the palace like rats might a sinking ship. Roan saw the mess in the room, kicking dirty clothes under beds we pressed together, creating one massive space. Creed laid Jessalyn down in the middle of it after loosening her corset and the laces of her dress, and we joined her once boots were kicked off, shirts and weapons dispensed with. Though the minute I lay down beside her, the strangeness faded away.

Jessalyn's eyes were heavily lidded as she was pressed up against Creed's chest. The other two shot me dark looks as I claimed the space on the other side of her, but… This might be the only time I got to do this, so I had to take my pleasures where I found them. I gently pulled her closer, cradling her bruised face in my arm as I placed a kiss on the top of her head, treasuring the way her hands spread across my chest.

"So we're safe now?"

"We will be," I promised her, as my eyes fell closed. My body didn't care about this, what had happened and what would come, as exhaustion hit me like a tonne of bricks. "We will be, my mate, because I'll do everything in my power to make it so."

Her fingers flexed against my skin, and I felt every scrape of her nails, but the tension bled out of them. We breathed each other in, one long inhale after another until finally sleep took me.

Darkness licked at my skin. There was no space here for dreams, not as my determination grew. Instead, I saw it in my mind, all of the ways I would take out my father. In front of the entire Guild. Secretly in his office. Dropping from the balcony above as he walked down a darkened alley. There was the way I was supposed to do things, issuing a formal challenge, but that only mattered if I intended to keep his empire in place. I'd need to prove that I was capable of taking it over to the entire Guild.

There was no precedent for those who wished to burn it to the ground.

My eyes opened to the sight of flickering flames, but these were just those that had burned low in the grate of our fireplace. I blinked, simply following the shifting shape of them until I realised I wasn't the only one awake.

"Can't sleep?" Jessalyn asked me, the bruising on her face setting my teeth on edge. That purplish spread across her cheek? My father's fault, as was the slightly swollen shape of her nose. That anyone… That he…. I swallowed hard, then very carefully stroked her cheek.

"I have to leave you, even though I don't want to. There's something I must do," I told her in a hoarse whisper.

"To keep us safe?" I nodded. "Then…"

I was too scared to kiss her. She had a split lip, but her grip on my head would not be denied. I brushed butterfly kisses along her lips, wanting to memorise their shape, carry it with me as I went about sorting out unfinished business, but my princess would not allow that. When her lips opened, mine delved deeper, tasting her, feeling her. For just this moment, I forgot about killing my father as I pinned her to the bed, the way she felt underneath me perfect, right up until she parted her legs. I fell into the space between them willingly. My hips moved as I kissed her more deeply, before the coppery taste of blood registered on my tongue, which had me jerking backwards.

"Jessalyn…" She didn't let me get far, her grip like iron, even as I saw blood well on her lip. "You're hurt."

"The pain of what you're about to do hurts far more." Her nails pricked my flesh. "You could die."

"I will die," I corrected, "if that's what is required to neutralise the old bastard. There's a new world order and as a result, there will be no more monsters in Khean. People need to be able to walk the streets safely knowing that they won't be caught up in baroque plots if they stumble down the wrong one. From what I can tell, my father has orchestrated all of this…"

That was just a hunch until she nodded slowly, but the realisation that he had been the one pulling everyone's strings was like a knife to the heart. Father always said I'd grown soft, living outside of Guild headquarters, but now I wondered. Perhaps it was something else, the sloughing off of toxins, the removal of parasites sapping your blood. Perhaps I was repelled by his actions because being away from him had allowed me to develop a moral compass.

And I knew which way it pointed.

To Jessalyn at all times because she was my true north. I stared down at her then, trying to burn the image of her on my retina, storing it away, so that if things went south for me…

"I must go."

"No!" She exclaimed that into my chest, clinging to me like a monkey, and while I knew I needed to prise her fingers away, I didn't. Instead I cradled her against me, right up until I felt her working at the laces of my pants. I was hard and in her hand in seconds, the shocking feel of her making me shudder, the movement forcing me to kiss the side of her neck. That smell of jasmine, I'd never get it out of my nose.

"Jessalyn…" I whispered her name. "Jessalyn…" That came out as a moan. "Sweetling, you don't…"

But anything further I had to say was cut off as she raked up her skirts and then bore down.

She wasn't ready. Her cunt was slick, but still too tight to take me easily, her cry of frustration muffled by my chest.

"No, no…" I rasped. "Not like this. Not…"

"You were saying?" Roan blinked slowly at the two of us, looking over Arik's shoulder before rolling the commander sideways and taking his spot. "The prick always sleeps like the dead after a fight. But you…"

As he gazed down at our girl, his hand slid between the two of us, finding her pearl and stroking it with his fingertips to the sounds of her pants.

"I can't…" I groaned even as I thrust deeper, the velvety suck of her more tempting than anything I'd ever experienced. My eyes rolled back in my head as I pulled away, only to slam back in.

"Yes, you can."

Her reply, almost as sharp as the small knife she now held, one I recognised as Roan's belt knife. The tip was pressed against my throat, just pricking the skin, my entire focus narrowed down to that point, which forced me to stop. She was glorious, flush faced and eyes flashing, her lips baring a set of neatly bared teeth as she met my gaze. "Yes, you can. Give me something to hold on to, Silas, as you do this. Give me something."

Regretfully I forced her to lower the knife, feeling the slight sting left as she drew a red line down my neck and to my chest.

"Here no one's likely to slip and cut anything fatal," I said, yanking her forward. The tilt of her hips, the way she opened up around me was everything that I needed. "Now you're free to cut whatever you need into my skin. Your initials, perhaps?"

She couldn't answer me, because between the two of us, we were rocking Jessalyn along on a sea of pleasure, but she recovered quickly.

"Mark you as mine?" she said with a smile. "But I have a terribly long name."

"Cut every single one of them into my worthless hide," I told her. "I won't protest. Make me yours as I know you are mine, Jessalyn."