Tanith & Shaw (The Fealty of Firstborns Series Book 1)

by H. V. Rosemarie

  Shaw snickered. “You’re not very good at waiting your turn, are you?”

  Tanith shrugged. “It’s not my fault you can’t keep up.”

  “Maybe I’ll tell you. Eventually. Are you really planning on going back to the way everything was on Ellesmere after all of this, or do you see potential for any other future?”

  She paused at the question. It was a far cry from the silly inquiries he’d been throwing at her, building up to what he was really interested in knowing. “I don’t think anything will be the same after this. If I make it out, I’ll have to face the facts. I was sent to my death for something that… that might not even exist. Not to mention I could never really be happy continuing with whatever lessons they have in store for me.”

  “Is there something you’d rather be doing?”

  Her fingers itched to grab the journal on the counter but sharing the contents with him was far too personal. “I want to be a historian.”

  Shaw nodded in approval. “Anyone who isn’t a royal would call you crazy for that.”

  “But you know better?”

  “I do.”

  For the first time, Tanith was sure they were on the same page. The moment was almost tender until a loud crash broke the peace, the sudden jolt of feeling danger nearby consuming Tanith and gluing her in place.

  To her left, she barely registered Shaw’s low grumble. “Shit.”

  CHAPTER 11

  Shaw flew off the armchair and grabbed Tanith, pulling her to the bedroom and slamming the door closed behind them. He darted to the window and peeked through a slit between the black curtains as Tanith blinked away the shock, hurrying over and taking her own look.

  Across the street, there was a group of guards. One had kicked in the door, another carrying out a man. His skin was bronze, hair long and dark, and Tanith thought she saw something wrong with one of his ears. A fighter, maybe. He might have passed as one if it weren’t for his lavish clothes.

  He was dragged out by two men, struggling, but only half-heartedly from what Tanith could tell before Shaw tugged her away from the window. “Don’t let them see you watching,” he warned before leaving the bedroom.

  Tanith followed him back out unsurely. “Are you going to ignore the fact that our neighbor just got taken from his own home by the guards? What if they come knocking here next?”

  “They don’t know we’re here,” he assured her as he claimed the couch, sprawling his arms across the back of it.

  “What makes you so sure?”

  “Because it wasn’t our house they broke into. That guy probably did something illegal. He’s the only one they’re interested in around here, so leave it be. Just keep your head down and don’t take stupid risks like going outside alone again.”

  The instructions were simple enough, but she wasn’t keen on taking orders from the likes of an iffy prince. “What makes you the expert?”

  “Considering the alternative is walking out there and waving at them, I’d say my plan is pretty sound.”

  She couldn’t help but squint at him. “You’re insufferable.”

  “And you’re proud. What’s new?”

  Tanith crossed her arms scoffing slightly. “That didn’t seem to bother you last night.”

  They both knew what she was referring to. His game. Her dress. At least the green one wouldn’t be so easy to take off.

  “Maybe it did bother me, and leaving you high and dry was the only way I could get you to shut up. Did you ever consider that?” he quipped easily.

  “Did you ever consider how much of an asshole you are?”

  “It’s been brought to my attention a time or two,” he admitted shamelessly. “But I bet nobody has been brave enough to tell the princess of Ellesmere just how bad she is at hiding her real emotions.”

  Tanith narrowed her eyes. “Excuse me?”

  Shaw laughed lightly, tapping his pale fingers on the couch fabric as he did so. “Be honest with me, will you? Our game isn’t over quite yet. If I were to touch you right now, would you be turned on? I’m willing to bet you’re wet, whether you’ve realized it yet or not.”

  She took a sharp breath in through her nose. He was right about her pride because it had just taken a noticeable hit. “Bastard.”

  “Are you denying it?”

  “Obviously,” she snapped. “What would turn me on about a selfish prince with fox hair growing out of his big head?”

  He laughed again, eyes glinting with humor. “Prove it, then.”

  “I don’t have to prove anything to you,” she countered, turning her nose up at his blatant disregard for her noble status. “Least of all whether or not I’m… I’m…”

  “Wet?” he filled in for her.

  She ground her teeth together, her body filled with a burning, rageful heat. “Yes. I’m right and you’re wrong. That’s all you need to know.”

  Shaw clicked his tongue. “I’d be much more willing to accept that with just an ounce of proof, sweetheart. Isn’t that what good historians do? Record the facts?”

  Tanith blinked. “Don’t use that against me.”

  “Why not? Because I’m right?”

  “You’re not!”

  The corner of his lips turned upwards. “Aren’t I?”

  Her retort died on her tongue as she considered his words. She wasn’t… Was she? There was no way to check without admitting that he’d gotten in her head and even the slightest shift was something his knowing gaze would pick up on.

  “So, what if I was?” she finally asked.

  A pleased look flashed across his face. “I wouldn’t blame you. I can be very charming,” he started. She nearly growled at him, but he was quick to go on. “Even if you admitted you were, I’d want to check for myself, just to get a better idea of the effect I have on you. Can you blame me?”

  “Has your dick been flaccid that long? That you need to bother me and… and try to rile me up just to get your blood flowing?”

  Shaw’s eyes glanced down leisurely before dragging back up to hers. “I think you’ll find that my cock is anything but flaccid. A mirror of your own arousal, no doubt.”

  “I’m not aroused,” she insisted sternly.

  He merely raised a brow in response. “You keep saying that, but I’ve yet to see any evidence confirming your statement.”

  She muffled a frustrated scream before stomping towards him. “I’ll show you…” she grumbled, bunching up the fabric of her skirt and snatching Shaw’s hand, leading his fingers to her middle as her stubborn will wore down. She was going to settle it once and for all.

  Shaw wasn’t quick enough to mask his surprise, nor did he bother after his fingers met her core, the both of them going still as stone as they gauged one another.

  “Not wet,” he admitted finally, brown eyes wide. “Drenched.”

  Tanith couldn’t bring herself to move. Perhaps it was the humiliation or the feeling of a foreign touch. She wasn’t quite sure, but she couldn’t bring herself to pull away. Her body was on fire, skin as aflame as Shaw’s auburn hair looked in the evening sun that shone through the cracks of the sitting room curtains.

  Her breath was uneasy as she let it out, hitching slightly when Shaw began to move his finger, stroking her middle with slow and careful practice. She wanted to step away to save herself from the embarrassment, but her legs moved forward of their own volition instead, her knees pressing against the firm couch cushions.

  Shaw added a finger, slipping between her gently while drinking in her poorly suppressed shivering. “Feel free to tell me I was right,” he muttered lowly, the corner of his lips curving as the tips of his fingers traced her entrance.

  Tanith shook her head, refusing to give him the satisfaction. His ego was insufferable, but his fingers… She certainly didn’t mind them.

  “Oh, come on,” he goaded. “Just say it. Shaw, you were right. Don’t try to deny it anymore, sweetheart. I can already feel you.”

  “The only wet thing you feel are the tea
rs my body are crying because it can’t stand you,” she countered through unsteady breaths even as she leaned into him, prodding him to either add more pressure or pick up the pace.

  “Is that so?” he pulled his fingers away slowly, tauntingly dragging them closer to his body, knowing Tanith would follow. With every centimeter of contact lost, she crept closer, closer until she straddled his lap, glaring straight into his eyes as though daring him to leave her cold and hungry for more.

  “Do you still deny this is part of your game?”

  “I told you there is no game,” he answered easily.

  She almost believed him. “We both know that’s a lie.”

  Shaw shook his head, bringing his fingers to his lips and tasting her cream before slipping them beneath her again, slowly inching them inside her as she gripped his shoulders, mouth parting. “If this was a game, why would you bother playing along?”

  Tanith considered the question. She’d never been touched the way he was touching her, but she’d read about it. Dreamt about it. If anything, Vaere Shaw was an opportunity, and on the strange island where the rules were anything but normal, she had every intention of taking her chances. Given the dangers and the uncertainty that hung over them, it very well could have been the only opportunity she ever got to explore in that way, and she wasn’t going to waste it.

  “I’m using you,” she admitted, clutching her fingers into the fabric of his dark shirt as his digits settled inside of her, as deep as they could reach. She lifted her hips slowly and lowered herself down again, starting the rhythm. “The same way I think you’re using me.”

  Shaw swallowed thickly, his throat bobbing with the action as he watched her, his free hand moving from her hip to the laces at the front of her dress. He tugged on them, untying the strings leisurely. “I never said I was using you.”

  “Aren’t you, though?”

  He didn’t answer before he sat upright, his warm lips meeting her neck, fingers tearing open the front of her dress.

  Tanith gasped slightly, her hands reaching for his hair as he ran his tongue over her skin, pumping his fingers in and out of her more firmly. “Do you want me to?” he asked suddenly, pulling away only to scan her eyes for an answer. “Are you asking me to use you?”

  She paused for only a moment before nodding and he was on his feet in an instant, carrying her to the bedroom and tossing her in the middle of it. Tanith only bounced on the mattress once before he was on her, his hands everywhere, her calves, thighs, hips, and neck.

  Her dress came off first, his mouth ravishing her top to bottom until he’d put her on edge, bringing her to the peak with his tongue on her clit and pulling away to look at her with the most arrogant, evil smirk she’d ever seen. He made her taste herself on his lips, forced her to beg until she was shaking with desire, but more than anything, he took his time.

  The ticking clock was no obstacle, the lowering sun a second thought in the midst of pleasure that was never ceasing. The music was their heartbeats, the subtle gasps and quickened panting as they each reached their finish, again and again.

  By the end of it, Tanith was a limp mess, her body sweaty and pressed up against Shaw where they’d entangled themselves, unmoving in a twisted pile of satisfaction and exhaustion.

  Not even the island could have created such a realistic illusion, a web of desire and need so strong that a task as simple as keeping her eyes open during the aftermath was too difficult—too energy-consuming to bother, so with Shaw’s warm body next to her, Tanith tucked her head beneath his arm and let herself sleep.

  CHAPTER 12

  Tanith woke up alone to a cold bed and a messy pile of black sheets. There was a slight indent where Shaw had been, but after reaching her hand out, she found it void of any warmth.

  Gone.

  She nearly sighed, considered rolling over and going back to sleep or taking a much-needed bath. Almost. She would have if it wasn’t so clearly the morning sun peeking through the curtains. It wasn’t just any morning either. It was a morning on the invisible island, so Tanith was quick to jump out of bed, wrapping the sheet around herself and hurrying into the sitting room.

  Gone.

  Shaw was nowhere to be seen, his guard uniform absent from the couch and nothing but a breakfast buffet of leftovers on the table. That and a note.

  Back tonight. Stay here.

  He hadn’t even bothered to pull together an acceptable full sentence, and that was enough to make her blood boil, cheeks reddening in humiliation that he’d left and been done with her long before she’d woken. She was sore, every step a reminder of the night they shared, but even that wasn’t the most embarrassing part.

  He wasn’t just fulfilling another task in the city. He was on his way to save Kent. Without her. It was his silent way of telling her she wasn’t good enough to accompany him. That she was nothing more than a one-night stand that he was expecting to come back to and maybe use again. It was as if he’d forgotten she’d spend her whole life preparing to brave the island, studying every known type of flora and fauna just to know which was deadly enough to claim her life and putting up with years of early morning runs and combat lessons, just in case.

  Her only purpose was to find the Sight and somehow, she’d lost her direction. Because of him. Because of Shaw, she’d forgone her instincts, letting the guards make off with Kent and following his brother around for days. Days she’d wasted, and for what reward? Sex?

  There was no more time to waste, she decided as she looked around, cursing the eldest Shaw brother. He’d taken the maid uniform and her two dresses. The only thing he’d left her were the clothes she’d arrived in, probably assuming she wouldn’t dare step outside in garments that would attract so much attention.

  He was wrong.

  Tanith dressed hastily, cleaning herself as she went and promising herself a more thorough bath when all was said and done. Slipping back into her clothes was a welcome comfort, her remaining knives, all but one she’d lost along the way, carefully lined and another one hidden in her boot.

  If all went according to plan, they wouldn’t be there for long. With Shaw’s head start, she had hours to make up for, but she would show him his mistake. Leaving her with four words on a piece of paper. Treating her like she was incapable.

  “I’ll show you who you’re messing with, Vaere Shaw,” she promised as she tied her hair back into a ponytail. There was no time for a better style as she stormed out the door, flying down the front steps and jogging down the street.

  Hardly anyone was outside, but she zeroed in on one man making a delivery. He’d brought a package to a door, his carriage in wait, and Tanith saw it as the perfect opportunity. She unhooked the black horse from the carriage shaft, leaving the dark accessory behind as she mounted the beast and reached for the reins, clicking her tongue before starting off.

  The clacking of hooves alerted the man, his voice following soon after. “That’s my horse! Stop her!”

  Tanith grinned as she galloped down the road, turning the corner and starting off towards the city. It was in the opposite direction that Shaw would have gone, but that was exactly the point as she rode on, driving the beautiful animal forward as people scattered to the side.

  Before long, the crowded populace was in sight, the spiral-formed buildings within reach when the shouting caught up to her. “Guards! That’s her! Thief! Stop her!”

  Shock bolted through Tanith at the sight of the messenger man. He was behind her, popping out of the tree line and darting down the road after her. He must have been the fastest runner alive, even taking a shortcut as he hurried in pursuit of her, garnering the attention of the silver-coated guards.

  She couldn’t give herself up. That would be too easy, so she guided her horse off the road, soaring close to the shops as women gasped and pressed themselves up against the buildings, angry men shouting at her in the process. “Get out of the way!” she demanded, slowing down for no one.

  The brisk wind was welcome ag
ainst her smiling face as she looked freedom in the eye, but the moment was fleeting.

  Without warning, a guard as tall as the horse itself stepped in the way, far too near for Tanith to change direction or bring her ride to a stop. He held out his hand, slamming his silver staff on the ground with a sickening crack that spooked her horse, rearing him onto his hindlegs and sending Tanith tumbling off the back, her fingers failing to keep hold of the reins.

  For a moment, she was airborne until her shoulder met the cobblestone, her temple bouncing off soon after at the force of her fall and her vision going blurry for a moment before two more guards appeared above her, grabbing her arms and pulling her onto her feet. Her knees buckled, but they wouldn’t let her fall as they faced the guard who stopped them, skin black as night and long, brown hair braided to his thighs. He kept one hand under the chin of the horse, black fur glistening as its muscles twitched, slowly calming down at the careful touch.

  “You’re not from here,” the guard noted harshly, looking down his nose at her in disgust.

  Tanith kept her wisecrack retort to herself. “No,” she agreed. “I’m not.”

  The man looked at the guard to her right and jerked his chin the way she’d come. “Take her to the palace. I think the king will be interested in this one.”

  She didn’t argue as they took her knives away, patting her down and lifting her onto the back of another guard’s horse, tying her hands with cold, thin chains in the process.

  Not a word was spoken until the palace was in sight, so far away that she knew she’d have been able to slip off if she wanted to. As long as the guards didn’t run as fast as the messenger had, that was.

  “Who’s your king?” she wondered eventually, figuring she might at least try to prepare herself for what or who was waiting.

  The guard she sat behind didn’t give her the time of day, but the other one, a man with brown skin, a trimmed beard, and shaggy black curls glanced over at her curiously before answering. “King Riven,” he answered simply.