Kingdom of Fire

by Ana Calin

  As the fae girls help me down from the chariot I keep my eyes locked with Marayke’s. Only after she nods, reluctantly, do I look at Xerxes again. He still stands in the chariot, taller and larger than all the others, royal in his armor, with shadow rising from his body like smoke. His irises glow like lava. The expression on his face sends waves of current all over my skin.

  Marayke leads the way up the stairs. I hitch up my dress and follow her, my heart still clinging to the magnificent fire god in the chariot behind me. My fated mate, the love of my life, the man for whom I gave up my world, my life and my dreams.

  The stairs up to the castle’s higher levels seem endless, grand and wide, I don’t expect we’ll have to climb them on foot. But when something like a thick thundercloud descends for us, I can hardly keep my mouth from popping open. It’s definitely not your average elevator. I can hardly believe my eyes when I understand what it is—a kind of magic carpet that feels soft and thick when we step onto it. I take off my shoes before I do, even though the girls say I don’t have to. But somehow I don’t want to hurt it.

  The cloud carries us all upward, the breeze created by its movement a caress on my face, running through the loops of my sophisticated hairdo. We glide past countless levels, the landings going from wide to narrow until we reach the very top. I don’t even look down as I step from the cloud onto the floor, because I know I’ll faint. I was never afraid of heights, but this is too much.

  The big metal doors open to allow us into the royal bedchambers. Nazarean sits on the ledge of a high window that overlooks a landscape of volcanoes with rivers of lava, fire bursting out from craters in the distance. The master bedchambers are at the very top of the Fire Palace. On the outside, the tip of the palace that houses the bedchambers resembles a pyramid made of dark volcanic rock.

  The girls scurry from the large sitting area into the bedroom and into the bathroom, starting to prepare the bath, the clothes, fragrances and flowers. They’re going to prepare me for my first night with the King, as his Queen. Marayke takes the place by the vanity mirror in the bedroom. I can see her from the sitting area, as I take Nazarean in my arms. He purrs at my chest as I head over, my eyes locked on Marayke’s face. I can see her pain, and for some reason it hurts me. Even though both she and her brother forced me into betraying Xerxes, I have a feeling she had less to do with it than him.

  I sit on the cushioned stool in front of the mirror, and meet Marayke’s gaze in the pane.

  “I’m sorry,” I manage as she positions herself behind me, starting to remove the pins from my hair.

  “For what?”

  “Marrying the man you love. I mean, I’m sorry that our union is causing you pain. I really am.”

  Her thin lips draw in a hard line, and her hands grow rougher on my hair. For a moment there I’m afraid she might ram the pins into my throat or something, but Nazarean would hiss and jump at her with his claws out if she even thought about it. But he doesn’t react to her at all, which can only mean that I’m right, and she’s too heart-broken to hate me anymore.

  “Is that why you wanted me to join you here,” she says after a few awkward moments of silence. “To tell me that you feel sorry for me?”

  “You don’t believe me, and I understand.” I keep stroking Nazarean, which has always given me comfort. Sitting here, practically in Marayke’s hands, it’s tense to say the least. “But even though both you and your brother forced me to betray Xerxes, I can’t feel angry with you. I’m only angry with him.”

  “You’re being unfair. I’m just as responsible for what you had to do as he is.”

  “Maybe you’re right. Maybe I should hate you both, but I can’t. Maybe it’s because I don’t feel any hatred coming from you, and he always scowls at me like he’d use me as a target for throwing knives, if he had his way.”

  She releases my hair completely from its pins, spreading it over my shoulders and my back.

  “Get up. We have to take off your dress.”

  I do as she says. She gathers my hair in one hand and drapes it over my shoulder so she can undo my corset dress. She tugs a little, and the dress falls and pools around my feet, white veils and folds of soft fabric surrounding me like the waves of a foamy sea. We both stare in the mirror now.

  I’m wearing nothing but my white panties, my hair falling in shiny blue-back waves over my breasts. I hold Nazarean close to my chest, his green slit eyes meeting Marayke’s gaze in the mirror. I’m tense, expecting him to hiss or even attack, but all he does is watch her. I wonder what goes on in Marayke’s mind. She looks at me with something in her eyes that’s not hatred, or sadness. It’s a strange sort of admiration.

  “You really are beautiful,” she says, turning to the side and taking a nightgown from one of the fire fae girls. It’s made of red flowing fabric, and it feels divine when she slides it on my arms, then rests it gently on my shoulders. I think it’s a bathing robe, but it’s so sexy I wouldn’t mind appearing in front of Xerxes like this.

  “I’m not even surprised that you don’t hate me,” she continues. “You’re so kind that your skin glows, white like snow glittering in the moonlight. Your eyes are as soft as honey. No wonder he fell in love with you at first sight.” There’s pain in her last words.

  “It was the mates’ bond, don’t forget that. If it hadn’t been written somewhere deep in our DNA to fall in love with each other, I’m sure he would have chosen you. He has respect for you, Marayke, and it would be unfair of me not to admit that he’s got every reason to. You were his right hand in countless battles. You were always loyal to him, no questions asked.”

  Her mouth quivers up in a smile. “Respect. I would have preferred to have his love, but I suppose I can live with that.”

  Nazarean meows.

  “No, Nazarean, I won’t tell her,” I say.

  “What is it?”

  “He says he likes your witchy nose. He finds you pretty.”

  “Well, at least the cat does.”

  “Lady Velduros,” one of the fire girls draws her attention. By the look on her face and the tone of her voice, she doesn’t like it that Marayke is softening towards me. Her words sound like a reminder that they’re all supposed to hate me. She hands over some oils for the bathtub, and when Marayke turns to me again and motions towards the bath chamber, she’s changed again. Her features have locked in an iron expression that reminds me this is the same Marayke the Iron Maiden who can manipulate iron even in the blood of people, the Iron Maiden that almost killed my brother a little over a year ago.

  “I trust you know what to do,” she says as I disrobe and step into the steaming bathtub, her eyes sliding up and down my frame. “Normally I’d have to initiate you in a few secrets of lustful pleasures, but, it’s not like this is really your first time.”

  “Initiate me?”

  “No point in talking about it. You don’t need it.”

  “I want to know. If I were pure, how would you initiate me?”

  Marayke closes her arms across her armored chest as I sink into the foamy hot water to my chin, sparing her the sight of my naked body. She sucks the inside of her cheek and looks around. A darker shade of crimson stains her sharp cheeks as she looks around, her eyes falling on a basket of fruit on a low table by the bed, which she can see from here through the open doorway. There are all sorts of fruit in there, including grapes and bananas.

  “I would have, you know, talked to you about things, taught you how to please your king. That’s what the courtesans in your retinue are here for, to prepare you to delight your royal husband on the wedding night. I’m not a courtesan, but since you specifically chose me to come with you, I would have had to do it.”

  I look around at the other fae girls that keep busy around the chamber, preparing the rooms but also eavesdropping on our conversation.

  “Then teach me a thing or two about how to please my king. But they will have to leave.” I say that out loud.

  The girl who interrupted us b
efore, the one whose eyes reproached to Marayke that she was growing soft on me, squares her shoulder and imperceptibly creases her nose.

  “You heard the Queen,” Marayke says calmly.

  The girls hurry to the exit, only the glaring one remains.

  “You, too, Zestari.”

  The girl presses her dark lips together, making it more than obvious that she doesn’t approve, but she has to obey. I notice she has very thin lips, and even the way she walks to the door shows that she’s pissed. I think this is a girl used to commanding, not taking orders. I wonder if she’s some sort of chief courtesan.

  As soon as we’re alone in the chamber, Marayke heads over to the table. The moment she stops by it I notice the look on her face. There’s a sort of desperation in it, like someone who just found out they’re taking an exam, and they’re completely unprepared. I smile to myself.

  “You have no idea what to teach me, do you?”

  “I... You chose me to come here with you. Those girls, they have experience, I...” She crosses her arms, her armor shining in the reddish light that floods the room through the window from the volcanic landscape outside. “I don’t. I’m a virgin.”

  Well, that’s a relief. At least I know for a fact she never had anything with Xerxes, which is what I wanted to find out, and why I wanted to be alone with her—that, and getting her on my side without the chief courtesan’s influence. But wait.

  “Those girls have experience, you say.” Bile rises to my throat. “Hopefully not with the king.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “You don’t think so?”

  “I’m not sure. He had many women. Before his core got shattered there was a time when he had a different one every night. It’s not like him to sleep with women who serve close to him, in his castle, he always avoided that, but I wouldn’t bet my life he never did it.” She glances to the door. I know she’s thinking the same thing I am. Zestari. Her attitude might come from a belief that I usurped her in some way.

  I try to make myself comfortable in the bathtub, spreading my arms over its edges, like a queen.

  “Anyway, that’s not why I wanted you here with me tonight. I want to know what happened with that bouquet, and I can’t talk to anyone as openly as I can talk to you.”

  She lifts her eyebrows and grimaces like she doesn’t believe me. “You could have asked any of the girls.”

  “I only met those girls today. I don’t want to show them any vulnerability. My conversation with people in this castle has been restricted to a few greetings ever since I came here. No one has ever gotten close enough to me so that we could have a real conversation.”

  “That’s because they revere you. You’re the Queen. Enjoy it while it lasts.”

  “You’re right. I’m the Queen, and therefore you’ll heed my command. So tell me about the bouquet. Xerxes said it was a bad omen. What did he mean?”

  “It means just what you and I both know is going to happen. The marriage won’t last.” She lowers her head. “And it means that one of you is going to die.”

  The idea clenches around my heart like the tentacles of an angry octopus. That wasn’t in my deal with the Archangel of Death. I fix her with my eyes and, even though she keeps hers on that damn fruit, I know she can feel me. Nazarean jumps on the edge of the bathtub, prowling behind my head, his tail brushing my cheek.

  “Marayke, it’s not too late to change your mind. It’s not too late to stop this madness.”

  “If that’s your ultimate purpose for getting me here alone, forget it.”

  “Marayke, this hatred, it’s not yours. If it was, Nazarean would sense it, he would jump to disfigure you like he did with Kareim when we first met. You’re contributing to his plans, but where is it going to take you?”

  She stares out the large window, her sharp cheekbones and her pointy chin glowing in the reddish light. She seems determined to block out my words.

  “You think Xerxes is going to take you to wife or even to concubine once I’m gone?” I press on. “He won’t. And if he does, you’re just gonna be the rebound. No man is ready for commitment after such a deception.”

  She doesn’t answer, but Nazarean meows, communicating to me what Marayke feels, the vibes he picks up from her.

  “You don’t care? You really don’t care what happens to you after he uses you?”

  “I’ll find a way to survive. I always do.” Her head snaps to me. “You will as well. You’re a survivor, Cerys Dark, and you’re much stronger than many here, at the Fire Court, give you credit for. But at least neither of us is going to have Xerxes’ heart.”

  “Marayke. If I could forgive you for almost killing my brother right before my eyes, then you can forgive me for having fallen in love with the King of Flames. It was beyond me, it was beyond us both, we were destined for each other.”

  “I know you didn’t have a choice, I understand that. But even though I do feel less aggressive towards you than I originally did, I’m still not stopping. If I can’t have him, no one will.”

  “You feel less aggressive towards me than in the beginning.” I narrow my eyes. “Why do you think that is?”

  Her reply comes quicker than I expected. I hear honesty in it. “I suppose I’ve come to respect you. You’re soft, innocent, and maybe a bit naïve, but you’re not without strength. You’ve made Xerxes stronger. He came back from the Cemetery of Doom with new powers, from all the dark energy you channeled into him when you drained those creatures. But that doesn’t mean anything if he’s going to spend eternity being happy with you, while I curse the day I was born. This pain.” She hits her breastplate with her fist. “It won’t go away. And as long as I’m hurting, the two of you won’t be happy.”

  What do you tell a heart-broken woman? I understand her so well, I can’t even get angry with her.

  “Seems that I was right. You’re too heart-broken to hate me. But I will still ask you this—think things over before dawn, and while you do, consider this one thing. If I lose Xerxes because of what you and your brother forced me to do, I’ll be too heart-broken not to hate you. And I’ll stop at nothing to destroy you.”

  Xerxes

  THE DOORS OPEN TO LET me into the royal bedchambers. I walk in and stop, waiting for the doors to thud closed behind me, finally giving Cerys and me the privacy that we’ve been missing since our first night together.

  Tonight, she’s finally going to be mine again. My heart surges at the thought.

  I head to the bedroom, unfastening pieces of my armor and letting them fall to the floor. I only have the mail pants on when I step into the bedroom. My heart that was as cold as a rock only a few months ago, now feels like a ball of fire in my chest.

  There she is, my beautiful Queen, my fated mate. Her blue-black hair ripples in the soft breeze, red light framing her. She turns around, stroking the black cat that nestles at her chest. She strokes him slowly, the way she always does when she’s planning something, or when she’s daydreaming. Then those honey eyes slide down my frame, and my cock stiffens. I ball my fists so hard I can feel my knuckles protruding white.

  I’m standing at the foot of what will be our master bed for the rest of eternity, watching her walk closer. Nazarean jumps from her arms and pads his way out to the sitting area, and from there out the window onto the large ledge that separates this highest level of the palace from the rest of it. He can navigate his way down the outer walls so well, some people have come to call him Bat Cat.

  A cocktail of feelings whirls in my heart as I look at Cerys, the veils of her gown hinting at the shape of her body underneath. By the cursed realms, how I want to caress my way up her body, let the young flesh of her thighs fill my palms. I want to throw her on the bed and kiss her violently, with all the passion I’ve had to restrain for weeks. She and I have only been together once, and I’m dying to drink from the sweetness of those lips again.

  I’m dying to sink my face in the curly hairs between her legs, pushing my tongue betw
een the lips of her pussy, the cheeks of her butt filling my hands while I go down on her. I want to be a slave to my Queen, lead her down paths of pleasure that she never even knew existed. I want to feel like I’m making her mine, because truth be told, I don’t feel she’s mine completely, even though we’re bonded mates, and now we’re wed.

  When she stops in front of me, those pretty honey eyes hanging on mine, I can barely keep it in my pants. But this is our wedding night, and it can’t be any less than perfect for her.

  Cerys places her hands on my chest, exploring my body slowly. The finest hairs along my spine stand on end, the sensation is so good. There’s quality to the way she does it, like a blind person reading the body of another, she does it like she’s feeling for my soul.

  “I want the spirit inside this unbreakable body,” she confirms, slipping her fingers into my mail pants. She’s so close that her breath touches my naked chest as she speaks, and my blood runs faster. Thin rivulets of fire appear on my body as my blood lights up in my veins, my skin growing hotter by the second. But none of it bothers her.

  She presses her soft lips on my chest, then starts kissing her way downward, but I grab her arms and pull her up.

  “No,” I growl softly. “Tonight is about you.”

  “Please, my King, I want to give you pleasure.”

  “It’s the King that must serve his Queen first,” I decree, and pull her close, crushing her lips under mine. My kiss is more forceful than I intended it to be, but there’s no resisting this woman. I want her more than words can say.

  My big hands wander wildly over her back through the thin veils of the red gown she is wearing, the gown that barely hints at her body, and yet drives me wild.

  It’s been hell, keeping away from her for the past few weeks. Now I can finally still my thirst, and make her indisputably mine. And yet I can’t get the horror scene of her burning bouquet out of my mind, no matter how hard I try to. I try to tell myself it was her enemies who staged that in a desperate last attempt to stop this union, but I can’t help thinking, what if it was for real.