by Meg Anne
Never, ever enough.
“You know what, Lucian? Forget it. You don’t want me? Fine. I’ll find someone who does.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” He made to grab at her wrist as she turned to walk away from him.
She knocked his hand away with a feral snarl. “Don’t you dare touch me. Not when you’ve made it so apparently clear how much the thought repulses you.”
“Effie, you’re acting like a child.”
That phrase. That damned phrase.
Eyes narrowed and voice dripping with venom, she spat, “You may see me as a child Lucian, but I know someone who is more than aware that I’m a grown woman and who would be thrilled with the opportunity to prove it.”
She stormed away, ignoring Lucian’s shouts. The need to prove that she was enough—to anybody—had taken over. The only thing that mattered in her drunken haze was the need to feel loved again. Even if only for one night.
And Effie knew just the man to help her.
Chapter 31
Kieran sat on his bed, fingers running over the soft fabric of his blanket distractedly as he thought about the blonde beauty curled up in the healing chamber a couple floors above.
An unguarded Effie was a luxury Kieran hadn’t realized he’d been craving. She’d laughed more than she had since arriving to the citadel, her giggles infectious as the wine worked its special brand of magic on her. With each sip, her tension and inhibitions ebbed, allowing him to catch a glimpse at the woman she kept hidden beneath her prickly exterior. It was what he’d been waiting for. How he’d always imagined spending time with her would be.
Fisting the blankets in his hands, Kieran let out a soft groan. He could easily become addicted to the sound of her laugh. When he’d left her, Effie’s cheeks had been a delicious rosy pink, and her eyes hooded. There wasn’t a trace of the mistrust or the shadows of her past hidden in her eyes. She was there with him, fully in the moment.
He hoped when the morning came she still looked at him with the same open expression.
Kieran’s head shot up as the door opened, revealing a disheveled Effie. She slammed the door closed behind her, pressing her back against it.
Recognition shot through him. This was it. She was here, in his room. Finally, the dream that had changed the entire course of his life was finally about to come true.
“Effie,” he breathed.
Having relived the dreams more times than he could count, Kieran knew what would come next in perfect detail. His smile grew when her bright eyes found him.
“Kieran.”
It was just as he pictured. Her flaxen curls skimming her jaw, her eyes even more luminous without the fringe of her hair to hide behind. The brush of freckles across her slightly upturned nose and cheeks. The sharp arch of her brows, and the deep berry color of her lips.
Chuckling to himself, Kieran finally knew why her cheeks were flushed and her eyes glassy. She was drunk. Because of him and the bottle of wine he’d snuck up to her. He hadn’t put together the clues before now. Not even the change in her hair had registered.
Anticipation already had his heart pounding in his chest, his body primed and eager for what would come next.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
Effie swallowed and gave a sharp nod. Her sweet voice was huskier than usual as she replied, “I wasn’t sure I would find you here.”
Grinning he asked, “Where else would I be?”
He felt a bit like an actor on stage, finally giving the performance he’d been practicing for his entire life. He knew each word, but the meanings felt different this time. Maybe because it was actually real.
She lifted one shoulder in a careless shrug. “I don’t know. Around.” She waved her hand to emphasize the word. “You are always disappearing.”
“I can’t tell if you’re relieved to find me here or disappointed.”
Effie snorted. “Me either.”
Kieran chuckled. “And yet you sought me out anyway. Why?”
Her cheeks darkened, and she finally tore her gaze from him, staring resolutely over his shoulder. “I’m here to take you up on your offer.”
He studied her with hooded eyes, his lips curling up in a seductive smile. “You’ll have to be more specific, love.”
A muscle ticked in her jaw. “You know which one I refer to,” she ground out.
“Indulge me.”
Her eyes darted to his. “Why are you making this so difficult? Isn’t it enough that I’m humiliating myself by coming here in the first place, or does it not count unless I drop to my knees and crawl to you?”
Kieran allowed himself a moment to savor the unintentionally sensual picture she painted. He took a few more steps so that he was standing directly in front of her.
“Call me old-fashioned, but I don’t find myself particularly eager to bed an unwilling woman. A man does have his pride.”
Effie huffed out a breath. “So do I. I won’t beg you to take me, Kieran.”
He let out a soft snarl, his already aroused body reacting to the words. “What if I want you to beg?”
Her breath hitched, and her eyes darkened. She was not immune to them either. “I won’t,” she whispered, but the words were unsure.
Kieran grinned. “By the time I’m through with you, love, you will be,” he promised, weaving his fingers into the feathery softness of her curls and slamming his lips to hers.
She gasped beneath him before her lips softened and began to move against his.
Kieran groaned, loving the feel of her surrender.
Thank you. Kieran didn’t know who he was thanking, only that the years of loneliness and exile were worth every miserable second because finally Effie was going to be his.
He was never going to let her go again.
Effie girl, what did you get yourself into?
Kieran was taking his time, tasting and exploring her. It was getting hard to remember why she was here. The rough scrape of his hands as they slid up the sides of her body and pulled her tighter against him was exactly what she hadn’t known she’d been waiting for.
The press of his hard body, the thrum of his heartbeat against hers, the feel of his hands roaming all over her . . . each detail warred with the others for her attention. She was consumed by the joy of being worshiped by a lover, and a skilled one, it would seem.
Effie wrapped her arms around his neck, her nails digging into his shoulders as she clung to him.
“Effie,” he groaned, trailing nibbling kisses along her jaw and down her neck.
The heat of his mouth against her cool skin made her shiver.
She wasn’t ready for the kiss to end, so she cupped his cheek and pulled his face back to hers. His chest rumbled with laughter, but he did not deny her. Kieran’s hands continued their slow exploration, one finally coming to rest on her breast. Effie had never been so aware of a single part of her body. Who knew so much pleasure could come from being touched there?
A soft sound escaped her throat and she pressed into him. His other hand traced the edge of her bustier where the leather met the skin. Gooseflesh raced along her body in response to the whisper of a touch. His fingers worked their way down the fastenings, plucking each one free as he pressed another soft kiss against her lips.
She was overwhelmed, her mind torn between enjoying what he was doing and slight panic at the thought he was about to see her naked. There was a quick rush of cool air when the last fastening was free and her bustier dropped to the floor. The only thing separating her skin from his gaze was a sheer linen undershirt. Her body was quick to respond to the realization, her nipples pebbling and her stomach clenching.
Shivering, she pressed her thighs together, trying to relieve some of the unexpected ache.
Kieran’s eyes had dropped down to her body when he’d unwrapped her. As they lifted back to her face, the sheer longing in his expression stole her breath.
She couldn’t believe that she was the reason he looked like that;
that someone would actually stare at her with that much unadulterated need.
He gently bit her lip as he tugged her arms down to her sides. His hands skimmed her body, moving up and down twice before she realized he was slowly inching up the soft fabric of her undershirt.
Her eyes never left his face, entranced by what she saw there.
“Beautiful,” he murmured.
His touch was feather-light as he explored her newly exposed flesh. He dipped down, cupping each of her breasts and brushing the tips of his fingers along her swollen peaks. She groaned when he took one of them in his mouth, the damp heat sending waves of pleasure through the rest of her body.
He nipped her and the slight sting of pain was enough to pull her out of her sexual haze. She was in over her head. When she’d come here, she’d known peripherally that this might happen, but it was another thing entirely to actually be experiencing it. For her emotions to tangle themselves up inside her as she learned what it was like to be truly desired by a man.
This wasn’t a game, or something to prove any longer. These feelings were real. It was all real.
“Kieran.”
He pulled back to look up at her, his face flushed with desire. “What is it, love?” he asked in a deep rasp.
“I don’t know what to do.”
She hadn’t meant to make the admission out loud. She was torn. If she stayed . . . if this went further, there was no turning back. But it felt so damned good . . .
“It’s okay, I do.”
He’d misunderstood her words, but it didn’t matter. Either way, he’d made the decision for her.
His arms banded about her waist, lifting her like she weighed no more than a sack of feathers. She wrapped herself around him, burying her face in his neck and enjoying the spicy smell of him.
“Do you trust me?” he whispered against the top of her head.
I’m not even sure I trust myself right now.
“Yes,” she finally answered.
Her back touched the mattress as he laid her on top of his bed. For a heartbeat, she couldn’t see his face, just the outline of his body as he stretched above her. He could have been anyone . . .
Trembling, Effie lifted her hand up to him. “Please . . .”
What was she asking for? And who was she asking?
Not even she knew the answer.
In that long, drawn-out moment, one thing became crystal clear. She shouldn’t be here. Not like this. Lucian had been right; she was drunk. To go down this road with Kieran would mean something different to him than it did to her. It wouldn’t be fair to either of them.
He leaned over, his face coming back into view. “I told you I’d make you beg. And we’re only just getting started, love.”
Effie froze. “I have to go.”
Kieran blinked; his confusion almost comical. “What?”
Pushing him off of her, she slid her legs over the side of his bed and scrambled to find her undershirt on his floor.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have come here. It was a mistake.”
“A mistake?” he asked in a low, angry tone. It was nothing like the seductive purr he’d used only moments before.
She threw on her shirt, her haste making her clumsy. It took two tries to get her arms through the holes. She refused to look at him as she picked up her leather bustier from the ground and used it to shield her body from him.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, barely containing her tears of shame.
She risked a glance at his face, and quickly looked away.
He was shocked, and she felt like the worst kind of fool.
As she turned toward the door, Kieran whispered, “This wasn’t what was supposed to happen. I-I Saw it.”
So, this was the dream he’d Seen. The reason he’d been so certain that she would be his.
Humiliation tore through her. Knowing that ending up here had been inevitable made it so much worse. Like she’d been destined to make an ass of herself, first with Lucian and then with Kieran. Destined to be the Mother’s walking mistake.
“Forgive me,” she sobbed, running from the room.
She didn’t stop until she reached her own, slamming the door behind her with a crash. Sliding down its wooden surface until she was a crumpled heap on the floor, she finally gave in to her tears.
What have I done?
She’d just made a fool of herself with not just one of the men in her life, but two. And there would be consequences to face with each of them.
If she ever found the courage to face either of them again.
Groaning, Effie buried her face in her hands. Mother save her, she wasn’t even sure she was going to look at herself in the mirror again after the little performance she just put on. She’d barely been on her own for a month and had already turned into someone she didn’t even recognize.
This wasn’t her. She wasn’t careless with other people’s feelings, or quick to jump into anyone’s bed. What in the Mother’s name had she been trying to prove?
Disgusted with herself, Effie curled up into a ball and cried herself to sleep.
Chapter 32
The dawn came, and with it, a pounding headache. Or maybe that was the door. Effie opened one eye only long enough to grab the pillow from beneath her head and hurl it at the offending piece of wood. The feathered sack flew wide and landed without a sound on the floor.
Effie glared at it. Traitor. Temples throbbing, she fell back.
Three more loud bangs shook the door.
“Go away,” she groaned, pulling the covers up and over her head.
“If you felt fine enough to pickle yourself with drink last night, you’re well enough to train with me today.”
Kael. Knowing who was at the door made her no more inclined to get up and answer it.
“I have no problem coming in there if you don’t get your ass up and open this door.”
Effie froze. He wouldn’t.
“I will!” he called, making her wonder if she’d spoken out loud.
Not wanting to find out, Effie pushed herself into a sitting position with a pitiful whimper. All things considered her body felt fine. It was her head—and her pride—that were wounded.
She wished the night before was a hazy, distant blur, but it wasn’t. As the night faded, so had the warm glow of the alcohol. In the morning, all that was left was shame. If she saw her Guardian or her tutor this day, she was turning and running the other way, pride be damned.
No one, not even the Mother Herself, could force her to have that reckoning in the state she was in.
Not today.
Maybe not ever.
“Effie,” a warning growl sounded.
She glanced down to ascertain her state of dress, pleased to see when she’d crawled into bed she’d also managed to get herself properly attired. With the way things had ended up the night before, she wouldn’t have been the least bit surprised to see that she’d ended up with pants hanging over her head, and her leather vest tied around her legs like some kind of diaper.
The rattle of the door was her last warning.
Effie scrambled up and forward, pulling the door open with a baleful stare.
She couldn’t even muster up the energy to tell him to fuck off.
Kael didn’t bother trying to hide his amusement. “Had fun, did you?”
Squinting, she glared up at him. “Is this what fun looks like to you?”
He ruffled her wild curls. “Maybe not currently. But last night must have been one for the books.”
You have no idea. Effie froze in panic, her eyes shooting up to his. Or do you? Had Lucian told him what had transpired between them last night? She didn’t think Kieran would have said anything to the smirking Guardian, but Lucian . . .
“Let’s get some food in you. It will help.”
The mention of food sent her stomach roiling. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
He gave her a sympathetic look. “One of Liza’s homebrews, then.”
“Liza?”
“The cook.” Kael nudged her. “Come on.”
“Kael, I can’t go out in public like this. I’m a fright.”
Effie was guessing, but she didn’t have to look in a mirror to know that her curls were standing up in every direction, or that her face was probably blotchy and tear-stained. Tilting her head, she took a tentative sniff and winced at the smell of alcohol radiating off of her skin. Mother’s tits, how much did I drink?
“I take it this is your first hangover.”
“Elder’s balls, there’s a name for this?”
Kael snickered. “Little one, for as long as there’s been booze, there have been men to overindulge. If it makes you feel better, we’ve all been there and survived.”
Effie shook her head in wonder. “Why in the Mother’s name would anyone willingly succumb to this more than the once?”
Her friend’s eyes brightened with memories. “The morning might hurt, but the night’s revelries are worth the ache.”
Scowling up at one of the floating balls of light, Effie wholeheartedly disagreed. This was hell, but a fitting punishment given the mess she’d made of things.
Sensing something in her silence, Kael looked back at her. “I take it that was not your experience.”
Effie blushed from the tips of her ears down to her toes. She couldn’t meet his gaze as she mumbled, “Not quite.”
He brushed a finger beneath her chin. “Whatever you think you did, there’s nothing so bad that you cannot make amends.”
Cheeks burning, she shook her head. “Some things you can never take back.”
Kael hummed. “Words or actions?” he inquired after a long stretch of silence.
Effie contemplated the question, frowning as she replied, “Both?”
“Are you asking me?” he chuckled.
Scrubbing both her hands over her face, Effie groaned. “I don’t know.”
“But you remember what happened?”
“Unfortunately.”
“Do you want to tell me about it? I could offer a fresh perspective.”
“Absolutely not,” she said, finally meeting his eyes again.
