Chapter Thirty

CHAPTER THIRTY

PERSISTENT CONTACT

M y head pounded when I woke to a dim room, Olea nowhere in sight, which was little surprise, given the way she left the ball the evening before. Thankful for the extra rest, I undressed, noting that the glow had faded from my skin. I put on my silks and stared at the gifts I’d clutched all night long, wondering what to do with them.

I found a loose board under the bed and pulled it up, revealing the unfinished floor beneath. I laid the dagger there and closed the wood on top of it.

The ring I was less sure about. I considered putting it with the dagger, but it didn’t feel right. I certainly was not going to don it on my hand—the thought of wearing two rings from two different males made my head spin.

I rummaged through the jewelry collection Olea maintained on my behalf. I found a pendant attached to a long, fine, gold chain that dipped below my chest. I detached the pendant and put it with the dagger, then threaded the braided ring through the chain. I slipped my new necklace around my head, tucking it under my shift. It hung inches below my silver dragon.

I climbed back into bed and curled up beneath the sheets, willing away the throbbing in my head and praying for sleep to come. But my mind drifted elsewhere, and restlessness nagged at my low belly. I sighed, rolled over, and opened the drawer of the small table next to my bed. Grabbing Olea’s gift, I let my memories lull me into the reliving of pleasure.

My mind traveled back in time—to the memory of a garden amongst craggy mountain peaks. I had become addicted to this memory.

Ezren tossed me onto the grassy bed and it curled around me in response to the contact. He plucked several of them, soft green blades. He knelt before me, running them up my leg, starting at my feet, making his way up my calf, and lingering on my inner thigh. The anticipation was unbearable, and he dragged the grass blades under my shift, over my womanhood, which sent a series of convulsions through my body. I opened my eyes, expecting to see him laughing, taunting. He was looking at me with an intensity I’d never seen, an intensity that had never been directed my way before. I was burning up from the inside out. “Has anyone ever told you how attractive you are,” he murmured, almost to himself. My breath quickened—I was near gasping now, my chest rising and falling with barely contained violence.

The canopy seemed to exhale when we did, the flowers blooming and contracting with us. Ezren ran the blades of grass up the rest of my body, up my abdomen, circling the peaks of my breasts. The soft contact on the thin silk shift sent a shudder through me, and he pressed my hands above me. As if the Earth now responded to him, or perhaps my secret desires, vines circled my wrists, rendering me helpless.

I arched my back, and he pulled my sheer shift upwards, letting it rest on where my wrists were now bound. He hovered above me, supporting himself, staring. I searched his eyes, panicked for a moment that he would change his mind.

But then he pressed his mouth on the silver dragon that hung around my neck, the tempo of his breathing matching mine. “I have never met anyone like you, Terra,” he whispered, wonder on his lips. And then he kissed me deeply, and I arched into him, attempting to hold him in place, my thighs wrapped around his torso.

He rasped a laugh. “Patience, Bellatori .” Ezren kissed my neck, licking and nipping me strategically. He paused on my breasts, closing his mouth around them. He made his way south, pausing again above my womanhood. This time, I could feel his breath, and I cried out in frustration. He slipped two fingers inside me, his tongue making small circles above my opening. Only moments passed before I exploded in pleasure, for it had built up so long, and Ezren certainly knew how to release it.

I submitted to the breath-stealing bliss, not worrying about the sound, nor the power that echoed around me. If a canopy draped above us before, we were in a palace of flora and fauna now, an expression of my surrender. The vines released my wrists, becoming part of the display. My eyes welled with tears, and I pressed my hands into them, my breath short and fast. Ezren came atop me again, his hands framing my face, thumbs brushing away the tears that had escaped.

“What’s wrong?”

I only shook my head, laughing silently at myself, at the overwhelming nature of pleasure I’d never known. I placed one hand on his neck, dragging his lips to mine. And the other I put on his backside, attempting to guide him into me.

“Wait,” Ezren pulled away from my kiss. “Are you absolutely sure?” His eyes searched for any doubt, any hesitation. “You can always change your mind,” he said, his usually gruff voice full of tenderness.

The feeling of anticipation threatened to burst my chest wide open. “I have never been more sure.”

He kissed me furiously then, not requiring another ounce of confirmation. His thrust into me was slow, but firm. I’d become thoroughly wet, so I felt no pain of friction, but was unused to the size of him. His deliberate kisses grazed my lips, my chin, my throat, as he rocked back and forth, letting me adjust to the sensation.

Desperation grew in both of us. Though naked and joined, we somehow weren’t close enough. I wanted to devour him, wanted him to devour me. We became one body, one soul. I would have drowned myself in his skin if I could have. I came undone once again, this time opening myself fully to him, sending my power out and accepting his. He did the same, and then our powers melded into one, surging through us as we both found our climax. Ezren shuddered violently when he finished, grunting in pleasure. His light exploded out in every direction, and my Earth exploded with him. He lost himself completely, and it looked like his now Dragon-slitted eyes could no longer see as he thrust into me the last time. The image of him, undone completely by my body, caused my womanhood to tighten around him once again.

Ezren moaned, twitching inside me as we remained connected. His magic and more were still flowing into me when he groaned, “It has to be now.”

And though I’d lost myself in the moment, in the orgasm that reverberated through us both, he grounded me. I sent our magic mixture down the side of the mountain, raising every speck of dirt to drown every Crona. I felt their heartbeats, strong beneath their frozen exteriors. And then I felt the life leave them, slowly at first, and then in a snap. I cried out once more, exertion mixing with sadness, mixing with residual pleasure. And in an instant, I knew it was done, and Ezren collapsed atop me, holding me to his chest.

It was over, but it was not. Our powers continued to magnify, hanging in the air, and a shimmering green light blinded us, searing our flesh. I shrieked at the excruciating pain, as if my skin was being peeled from my body and my heart was being ripped out. It lasted for a few terrible moments longer, and then it stopped, the magic sucked back into our bodies, quiet settling all around us.

We looked at each other in worry, and his eyes roved over me. “Are you hurt?” he panted.

I shook my head. “The end, with the magic, it… it was painful. Was it for you?” I asked, unsure.

He tilted my head to search my face. “I didn’t know it would hurt. I mean, I’ve never heard of that. And… are you okay, otherwise?”

I nodded, a shy smile forming on my lips in remembering. “Is it always like that?” I murmured, searching his face, no longer talking about the pain at the end. “Your… finish. Is it always that intense?”

He looked at me for a few moments, his breathing still heavy. “No. It has never been like that.”

I half laughed, half choked in relief, and he tightened his arms around me, giving me a little squeeze. “I felt like I wanted to be more than one with you. Like I wanted to be you,” I whispered into his chest.

He nodded in agreement, and I propped myself up to see his face. It was relaxed, sated, but something churned just below the surface.

I poked him. “What are you thinking? Your thoughts are quite loud.”

He let out something between a murmur and a sigh, as he traced his fingers the length of my body, sending shivers over my pebbling skin. “Nothing escapes you, does it?”

I poked him again. “Now I really must know.”

“I was just thinking about when we met. I know this may sound crazy, but from that moment on, I knew—” He stilled, interrupting himself with silence, his fingers stopping on my hipbone, which had a small, shining, green Dragon scale imprinted on it.

“What is it?” I asked, looking down at where his touch rested. But he did not move, and he did not speak. He only deepened his breath, his nostrils flaring in anger. A moment later he was up, out of bed, shrouded in nothing, pacing in our little garden, shaking.

The end of the memory almost prevented my release, but I replayed the rest of it like a revolving door in my mind. I cried out into a pillow, feeling the cool metal ring pressed against my chest and wetness streak my face. I knew Ezren couldn’t set foot in the palace again without being imprisoned, but I let myself think of another life, one where we dwelled in a forest far away with horses and a cottage built of pine. And then it set in, the pressure on my chest that I had simplified to loneliness. He’d been gone less than three weeks. And a part of me felt broken and a part of me felt stupid and a part of me felt like I’d imagined the whole thing.

The next seven days I did not attend banquet per tradition, which I took no issue with. I had nine days left to prepare for the Sk?l, which meant rising early and training until I collapsed on my bed in the evening. Cas and I would begin the day by running sprints before breaking our fast together. Then, he would watch as I drilled in armed combat with at least two of his warriors at once, while he barked out critique or approval. His guard was well trained and experienced, but somehow still, my practice blades always found ways to meet them.

When Cas was satisfied with my swordsmanship, he forced me to duel Fayzien. I was furious and delighted by the suggestion. It offered me the chance to inflict some suffering on the Witch—or so I thought. We weren’t allowed to use our elements, since it would be prohibited in the Sk?l. It proved difficult to separate my Earth magic from simple Witch spells; they’d always been inextricably linked in my mind. Fayzien was, unfortunately, a formidable fighter, even without his element. It made me realize how drained he’d been in the Nameless Valley—how much magic he’d used to create the Crona.

At first, Fayzien out-spelled me every time. It might have bothered me, but I learned the most effective spells—tried-and-true magical tricks that non-element Witches had used in battle for thousands of years. I could conjure a magic whip or bend the light to blind him. I could summon a hive of bees to swarm him, and of course, I could portal strategically during a spar.

“When are you going to learn you cannot out-portal me?” Fayzien purred as I stumbled, having tried to portal right up to his unguarded side, only for him to vanish the moment I appeared.

I caught myself before hitting the ground, resuming my fighting stance. “When are you going to learn that hurting others will never make you hurt less,” I spat.

He laughed, a light sound—the sound I knew he made when I scratched the surface of his skin with my words, so close to a puncture. And then he conjured that magic whip of his—the one he’d made in the valley. “You are mistaken. I feel very little, actually.”

I didn’t flinch at the whip. Instead, I conjured my own.

“Oh, really?” I said, twirling my weapon. “I think you do. I think you feel love—for Cas. And I think you feel hatred—for yourself.”

Blue eyes bulged, and then he lunged for me. Bullseye.

I waited, one breath—two—until he was upon me. And then I portaled, to right above his head, so that I fell onto his back, my whip wrapping around his neck.

I pulled tight—so tight that we were one body. He could try to portal, but I’d only go with him.

He struggled, stumbling to his knees, his hands releasing his whip and grasping at my makeshift noose.

If he wanted to yield, he’d need to tap the ground. Rules were rules, after all.

He only clawed at my iron grip.

“You are simply a pawn,” I whispered into his ear. “And you hate yourself for it. I used to be afraid of you, to crave nothing more than revenge against you. But now,” I barked out a laugh, “I pity you. You’re a sad, lonely, angry creature—who Cas could never possibly love.”

He struggled even more, gasping, portaling us all over the arena. I held tight, going with him, until his movements slowed.

One heartbeat, two. He didn’t yield.

I could end him—right then. It would have been fair, completely within the Viri sparring rules. Unless he yielded, I could kill him and hold no blame.

I could deliver the death vow I’d sworn.

But I’d already thought he’d been killed once… and it had done absolutely nothing to take away the pain of losing my family. It had done nothing to absolve my grief.

In truth, I thought of Fayzien less and less. He was not the mastermind I once considered him. The day after Fayzien choked me in the library, I saw him in the corridor, turning his bruised face away from the light. Cas had punished him. Despite my feelings towards Fayzien, it didn’t sit right with me. I didn’t like the idea of one lover punishing another.

Fayzien’s struggles stopped; his body grew limp beneath my grip.

And I knew, with surprising clarity, that I’d regret killing him even now.

So, I released the male who’d wronged me, who’d violated me, who’d murdered my family.

And when I released him, the last shred of anger I had towards him was released, too.

Fayzien slumped to the ground, passed out but not dead, his chest heaving.

I bent over him, knowing he couldn’t hear me.

“I forgive you,” I whispered, a tear slipping down my face.

For Mama, Papa, my brothers—I would not kill. I would forgive.

A thought lanced my mind. He did not yield.

I only wondered if he could forgive himself.

After sparring with Fayzien, I transitioned to studying. Cas and other experts taught me about the history of Viribrum, evolving political alliances, and the events of the Sk?l. I pressed Cas on the happenings in the kingdom, who the men with swirling tattoos and shaved heads were. He always hesitated in answering, saying he wanted to keep me away from it all. But sometimes, the instructors would acquiesce and make an admission before Cas could say otherwise. My ‘abductors’ were presumed Drakkarian Witches. Ironically, the tensions between Drakkar and Viribrum had grown regardless of my return to the kingdom.

Darlan’s words itched at the back of my mind.

Witch and Fae are not meant to coexist.

If it’s a war she wants, it’s a war she’ll get.

I hardly had time to unpack the implications of my learnings, for after history, I endured lessons of the court. The Five High Fae Houses of Viribrum could trace their existence back multiple millennia. Saxoni, Brisk, Daini, Nepos, and Odacer—each distinguished by its own specialty. According to Cas, the blood of all houses had been mixed through the royal line over generations. Cas’s mother had not been of High Fae blood, and Darlan was part Brisk and part Odacer.

I would face one female of each house. I asked Cas which I should fear the most, and he shook his head. “Terra, you should fear them all. They will kill for a chance to wear your crown. Remember that.”

There would be three events of the Sk?l. The details of each event were unknown to all, save for the competition maester. However, each had a theme or a goal, Cas said. Those never changed. The first was a test of Beauty. The second a test of Strength. The final a test of Honor. And without being told, I knew the interpretations of those concepts would be vast.

“Tell me about the previous events,” I said to Cas one morning at breakfast. “Tell me about your mother’s Sk?l.”

He looked at his plate. “Hers was much more gruesome than yours will be. An open Sk?l is like… trapping a hundred wolves with a single fawn. The events are also more lurid, for the competition maester has more to eliminate. I’m not sure you want to hear about her Sk?l.”

“Even if mine will be different, I want to know.”

“Agustina trained in combat. Unusual for Fae females, unless they’re from the House of Daini, or they’re identified young for the Sk?l. Her family dwelled in a southern town, near the border with Drakkar, where raids were not uncommon. So, she begged the soldiers in town to teach her the ways of the sword. Most shunned her, but one of them was sweet on her younger sister and acquiesced. And she improved.

“Her reputation grew, for she would fight anyone in the street for a penny or a chance at approval. But the soldiers would not welcome her in. Then, the King of Viribrum died suddenly and mysteriously. And Darlan was crowned. Darlan’s father had not yet hosted a Sk?l for his son, so no favorite had been chosen. Thus, the Sk?l was open to all Viri females who wished to compete. Agustina traveled to the capital alone, facing thieves and bandits, and gods know what else along the way. By the time she reached Valfalla, she was one of a hundred that planned to compete.”

Something warm tightened in my chest at the pride in his voice. “She sounds fierce.”

Cas lifted his chin. “You have no idea. The first event, the test of Beauty, eliminated two-thirds of the competitors. A hundred human men were deposited in the arena. The competitors had to convince as many of the men as they could to… erm, castrate themselves, using their beauty and tools of persuasion. And, of course, competitors may eliminate their competition at any time. Agustina supposedly killed fifteen competitors on her own during that first event, whilst winning nine castrations. For the event of Strength?—”

“Stop,” I breathed, nausea swirling in my belly. “Cas, I will not harm innocent, helpless humans. You have to know that.”

He looked at my pleading face. “It won’t be like that, Terra. There are only six of you—and none of them innocent humans. There will be less collateral damage because you are competing. And if worse comes to worst, just focus on staying alive. Even if you can’t eliminate anyone, you can secure victory through winning individual events. But prepare yourself—most do not leave the Sk?l without at least killing in self-defense.”

I swallowed, thinking about the faceless competitors that could lose their lives at my hand. Even if they weren’t human, they were still daughters, sisters, and loved ones. I couldn’t even kill Fayzien—how am I supposed to kill strangers?

“Don’t forget,” Cas continued. “If there are two of you left standing at the end of the third round, whoever has won more events will win.”

“What if there are two, or even three remaining contestants, but each won a single event? How does the Sk?lmaester account for the tie?”

“Fae detest ties,” Cas muttered. “They are viewed as a cursed thing, producing two inauspicious losers of a draw rather than a pair of winners. But they have happened. There’s a legend that goes back thousands of years, to the 14th and 26th Sk?ls. After both, the future king was forced to visit the temple of Abnithe far north, near Panderen, to consult the gods, leaving the result to stand before their judgement.”

I examined my fingers, the wheels turning in my head.

“Don’t you dare let there be a tie, mi karus ; I have no desire to visit that ghastly place.” Cas’s mouth twisted into a wry smirk. “And even if the gods chose you, a tie would cast a dark shadow on our union.”

I leveled my gaze. “What would happen, Cas, if I lost?”

He met my eyes. “Besides the fact that I will be heartbroken?” He shook his head. “I fear if you don’t win, I won’t be the only one to suffer. You are the key to unite Fae and Witch, Terra. Tensions are brewing, and many call for an invasion of Drakkar, namely the House of Conquering, Odacer. You’re not Drakkarian blood, of course, but you are their kind. Witch kind. Our union could one day bring all kingdoms under one banner, one ruler, peacefully, without bloodshed. Think of it—Viribrum, Drakkar, and Nebbiolo united in one strong kingdom.”

I considered him, wondering if his father was right when he said Cas was more dreamer than ruler. His idyllic fantasy seemed impossible.

“I fear we are on the brink of something—an invasion, or worse,” he continued. “My father does not trust the Drakkarians. The borders are becoming dangerous. A war between our peoples could prevent an alliance for many generations. Memories of Fae and Witch are not short.”

“But does Darlan want that? A union between Witch and Fae through our marriage? Does he actually want to keep the peace?” I asked, my voice low.

“Yes, of course. Our match was your father’s idea, but Darlan has always supported it.”

I nodded, wishing I could say more. “And you would give up marrying for love? For the heart?”

“I am marrying for love, Terra. I am marrying for love of my country, of my people, my warriors. And as for my heart, it is also yours,” he whispered. “I know I don’t act conventionally, seeking you out each night. But you are dear to me in the highest way, you must know that.”

I frowned. I did know that—and I knew that to Cas, duty came first. I could see a life with him, one we’d imagined as children. He would protect me—he’d care for my every wish. Still, a question bubbled at the back of my mind. Is that what I need?

A pang of guilt lanced my chest. By losing the Sk?l, I could save Gia and Jana. I’d regain a sliver of freedom in choice in the absence of forced marriage. If I could forgive him, for the lies and deceit, I’d be free to at least explore what existed between Ezren and me. But all of that would be at the cost of my duty. Cas would have no support in uniting Witch and Fae. I was sure the king would make good on his intention to invade Drakkarian land.

Could I forgive myself if thousands died and I’d done nothing to stop it?

I cleared my throat, speaking low. “Cas, how many of your guard do you consider truly loyal?”

He cocked his head at me. “All of them. They all have fought alongside me, some of them I have pulled from trenches, covered in?—”

“How many of them would you bet, with my life, could not be bought? With gold or silver, or the promise of power and reward?”

He narrowed his eyes. “Five. And another five warriors that are not in my official guard but act on my behalf in… other ways.”

I leaned across the long table toward him. “Could you arrange for them to take Gia and Jana out of here before the Sk?l?” I whispered.

He lifted a brow. “Why would you ask such a thing?”

I shook my head. “I can’t tell you. Please just trust me, Cas. I need to know, no matter what, that they are away from here, safe. And no one can know they are gone until the Sk?l is underway.”

“What aren’t you telling me, Terra?” Cas ground out, his voice low.

“You don’t tell me anything!” I whisper-shouted. I exhaled. “I’m sorry, please, just, can you do this?”

“Okay,” he shook his head, his body language contradicting his words. “I’ll have three of my best take them out of the city—inland. They can wait out the Sk?l in a small farming town. But Terra, the request worries me.”

I tucked a stray piece of hair behind my ear, avoiding his eye. “Thank you.”