Promise of Darkness

by Bec McMaster

  Ah. Its eyes widen, and then it scampers along the hallway, leading me lower into the castle, where the heated baths lie. Crouching outside the door to the steam room, it wends its way through my legs like a cat.

  An expectant cat.

  “I don’t have any milk or honey right now,” I tell it. “But I’ll set some in a saucer at the foot of my bed later.”

  It gives me a look that can best be described as you’d better, and then it flounces away.

  Inside the bath chamber the air is sticky and hot. Steam drifts from the enormous pools I haven’t had a chance to use yet, providing an excellent curtain for Thiago’s activities.

  He turns at the sound of my footsteps, green eyes flashing.

  I can just make out a hint of wet flesh and the dark shadow of wings. Despite myself, I’m curious to see more of them. He’s always shrouded in that cursed cloak or his illusions.

  “We need to talk,” I tell him.

  He’s been avoiding me ever since he yelled at me.

  Thiago stands up, water dripping from his elbows as he wipes it from his face. I rest my hands on my hips, staring him in the eyes with a resolve that’s starting to weaken. Do not look down. Do not. Do not. Do not….

  Curse it.

  My cheeks heat and I force myself to focus on his eyes. They’re very pretty eyes, but they’re no match for the rest of him. All that sleek muscle and smooth skin just begging to be touched or licked…. There’s no softness about him. He was built to be a predator, built to prowl, to overwhelm. Every inch of him is hard and carved of sleek edges.

  And as he wades toward me, water caressing those slick muscles, I realize that he’s been kind and charming and polite with me so far. The patient suitor. But right now, with the Darkness blackening his eyes, he’s clearly cast aside such aspirations.

  Right now, I’m dealing with the Prince of Evernight.

  One who looks at me as if he’s thinking of punishing me for my ruse with the Erlking. Only…. I think I’d quite enjoy what he has planned.

  “Then talk,” he tells me.

  I clear my throat, trying to gather my scattered thoughts. “Can you get dressed?”

  “What’s wrong?”

  You’re naked. And I’m trying really hard to focus.

  I set my hands on my hips. “It’s difficult to have this conversation when you’re naked.”

  “You mean, you want to yell at me and yet, you can’t keep your eyes off me.”

  Something like that.

  “No,” he says, enunciating the word. “I’m having a bath. You can either join me and scrub my back, or you can wait for me upstairs at my leisure.”

  At my leisure.... I scowl. “I know we’re married, but do you think I’m going to sit upstairs in your chambers like a good little girl and wait for you to tell me how wrong I was?” I lean forward. “Because if so, I think you must have hit your head in that castle. Or is it the fact that I rescued you the one you’re having trouble dealing with?”

  Thiago rubs at his jaw, fingers scraping over the dark stubble as he growls, “I swear to Maia, you were sent to punish me.”

  It’s a little bit disheartening to be considered punishment.

  I know we’ve been dancing around each other for weeks, even months, but… there’s a little piece of me that started to believe his declarations. It’s a heady feeling to know someone loves you enough to sacrifice everything. I’d even started to believe that maybe there was a piece of myself worth loving.

  Or maybe I’m just a fool who wants to believe.

  “I never asked for this,” I say hotly. “I never wanted to be a pawn between you and my mother. And you’re right. Maybe I should leave this argument where it lies and go upstairs, but if you think I’m going to be waiting for you to finish it, then pray, think again.”

  I turn toward the door, boots hammering as fast as my heart.

  “Vi!”

  The door slams in my face with a gush of wind.

  I yank at the handle, but there’s no shifting it. And I don’t have enough magic to break his hold on it. Burning it to cinders is not a good idea. Certainly not one a mature princess can afford to entertain, no matter how tempting it is. Hammering a fist against it, I pause once, palm pressed to the wood, before turning back around.

  “Open the door.”

  The words almost sound calm.

  “No.”

  Oh, he’s going to regret this. “That was the only time I’ll ask. Next time, I’ll get a fucking axe.”

  Thiago wades closer to the edge of the pool. “Aren’t you tired of running?”

  It’s not the first time he’s accused me of that.

  I plant my feet. “Fine. I’m not running this time. Let’s talk. Let’s punish each other.”

  “Vi.” He curls his fingers into a fist, his jaw locking tight as he clamps down on whatever he intended to say. Finally, he opens his fist. “I didn’t mean to say it like that. You’re more than that to me. You’re more than a pawn. More than punishment. And you know you are. I would walk away from this war with your mother in a heartbeat if I thought she’d leave us in peace. But I can’t keep fighting a war on two fronts. I can’t keep fighting you as well as your mother. We have just over three weeks before time runs out, and this time, it’s forever.

  “You made a reckless decision today, and I don’t know how to even explain how dangerous it was. And here you are with those two marks upon your hand, and all I can see are the consequences. All I can see is myself losing you.”

  “We had no other choice—”

  “There are always other choices,” he snarls. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”

  “No, I don’t!” I shoot back. “All you’ve done is yell at me. I know the Old Ones were locked away, but the Erlking is the Master of the Wild Hunt. He’s dangerous, but he’s not—”

  “You were not born into a world where the Old Ones walk the nights. You’ve never had to bar your windows or blow out all the candles in your home because the Wild Hunt is howling through the trees and it’s hungry. You think he’s benevolent? He takes what he wants, Vi, and you’re cursed lucky he didn’t decide he wanted you. Yet.”

  I rub at the marks on my hand. “He owes me two boons.”

  “Does that make you feel safer?” Thiago sinks into the water with malevolent grace. “If you use those marks, you risk capturing his attention. I’m sure he was distracted by the sight of Blaedwyn, but you’re beautiful, powerful, and stubborn. All things that rouse his predatory instincts. I can only pray he’ll be distracted long enough to forget you.”

  It makes me swallow.

  I know what the stories say about the Erlking.

  He lives in his own realm—side by side with the mortal realm—and he sends forth his hunt every full moon. Nothing is safe. Sometimes you’re prey, designed for his bow and his sword. Or sometimes, if you’re lucky, you’re a distraction. Offer him mead, offer him a dance, or offer him your virtue. It’s all the same to him. A night of bedsport and laughter, and you might wake and consider yourself lucky. Male, female, it doesn’t matter. He left behind a trail of broken hearts and no doubt dozens of bastard offspring.

  It was only the very rare few that he stole.

  And they were never seen again.

  Some say time moves differently in their realm, and so mere hours have passed in relation to dozens of years here. Some say, if you drank his mead or his wine, you were bound to stay in his world forever. Or some simply say that he never let them go.

  Nobody really knows the answer to that.

  Thiago continues, “The Old Ones were locked away for good reason, Vi. You’ve never looked across a battlefield and seen your own people taken to be slaves to the Horned One. Or worse, food. You’ve never kissed the floor at the Mother of Night’s feet and hoped she couldn’t sense your dissent. You’ve never risked the seas, wondering if the Father of Storms and his saltkissed will drag your ship under.

  “They were creatures
who tapped into the raw, elemental power of the ley lines. With all that power, they were well-nigh invincible. They were cruel, and rapacious, and inhuman. They don’t think like we do. They have no empathy, no ability to see us as anything beyond livestock. They played with us like pawns, and when the Horned One sent the Unseelie south to conquer our peoples, the only option we had was war. Why do you think we locked them away? The entire Seelie Alliance rode as one, and we couldn’t kill even one of them. The only option we had was to trick them into the circles and lock them away. It took years of planning to simultaneously lure them into that trap, and you just blithely released the Erlking!”

  “Would you have rather died?” I snap. “Because that was our only other option.”

  “Yes!”

  The word echoes around the chamber, ricocheting like a slap to the face. My mouth drops open.

  “What?”

  He tips his chin up proudly. “You weren’t there, Iskvien. You don’t know what it was like.”

  Not Princess. Not Vi. But my full name.

  It’s the first time I think he’s ever called me that, and though I would have preferred it several months ago, now it feel like a rejection.

  “I risked everything I had to trap them all those years ago. So the cost of my life would have been a small blessing to keep them contained.”

  “But…. It’s only one of them,” I whisper, rubbing at the marks. “We can trap him again. Or—”

  “Kill him? Blaedwyn drove the Sword of Mourning—a weapon forged with all the power of the Alliance—directly into his chest, and it merely stunned him.” Thiago forges through the water. “I’m the most dangerous male in the south, and I don’t think I can stop him, Vi. If he comes for you, then I will do what I can. But our best hope is distraction. I don’t want to lose you.”

  And he’s afraid he might.

  It finally sinks in.

  All I’ve ever heard are stories. He’s right. I don’t know what it was like. They’re merely legends to me. But if Thiago—with all his power, all his might—doubts he can keep me safe, then perhaps he’s right.

  Perhaps they are best left alone.

  “I’m sorry,” I whisper, sinking to my knees by the side of the pool. “I didn’t mean to cause so much damage. It was just—Blaedwyn was hunting us through the maze, and I knew we couldn’t escape her. It seemed our only option at the time.”

  His voice roughens as he pauses by the edge of the pool. “You always were reckless. You’d never have married me if you weren’t.”

  “Do you regret it?”

  The words blurt from my mouth, all my lingering doubts swarming me in an instant.

  He looks up sharply. “Marrying you?”

  I can’t help speaking what’s been on mind ever since I discovered the truth. “All I’ve ever brought you is pain.” The words feel thick in my throat. “All I’ve ever done is hurt you.”

  He speaks of punishment, and he’s right.

  “Never.”

  I reach for his hand, and he captures my fingers, giving them a light squeeze.

  “You are my light, Vi. You’re my breath, the beating of my heart, the smile on my lips.” He brings my hand to his mouth and presses a hot, open-mouthed kiss to the palm. “You’re the beacon I use to find my way back to land when the Darkness threatens to drag me under. You keep me whole. You make me laugh. You remind me of what I am and what I want to be.”

  I don’t quite understand what he’s talking about, but the words soften that lump in my throat so I can finally swallow.

  “I love you, Vi. You are my everything, and despite the pain, despite the rage, there’s not a day that has passed since our marriage that I haven’t considered myself blessed by the gods for being given to you.”

  The brush of his mouth stirs things low in my body, but his words are an arrow straight through the heart.

  They dissolve the doubt that festers there like poison.

  I wish I could tell you I love you, but I’m so afraid I’ll lose it.

  I release a slow, shuddering breath. It’s more than I can handle right now. “You’re not just saying that to get me in the water with you?”

  He knows me well enough to understand I’m overwhelmed. Backing off, he gives me a sinful smile. “Caught,” he says softly.

  And we’re both hiding behind masks in that moment.

  “I’m sorry,” I whisper.

  “So am I.”

  Silence ticks away the seconds.

  Hot steam envelops us, but all I can see is him. Those green eyes are dangerous, tempting me to throw caution to the wind and join him.

  “Come in, fair maid.” He flicks water at me.

  I rest my chin on my knees. Entering that water is akin to giving in, and we both know it. There’s no coming back from this moment, no more second-guessing myself. “Why would I? I’m enjoying the view.”

  “It’s better in here.”

  Oh, I’ll bet it is.

  As if to tease me further, he fans his arms back and forth, splashing ripples of water against his chest. Every inch of him is perfection, and I want to touch him so badly I ache.

  “You’re a dangerous man,” I tell him through narrow eyes.

  Thiago smiles. “You have no idea, Princess.”

  “I’m starting to.” I slip my boot off and dip my toe in the steaming waters. Sweet Maia. My eyes almost roll backwards in my head. It’s deliciously hot and tempting. Thiago’s not the only one wearing almost a week’s worth of grime.

  “Good?” he asks.

  “Terribly good.”

  Too late, I realize he’s been circling closer. One hand locks around my calf, and he gives me a wicked grin as he hauls me into the water, clothes and all. I go under with a splash, heat enveloping me and my arms flailing.

  The second I come up, I’m in his arms, and there’s no escaping.

  “What are you doing?” I gasp.

  “You looked dirty.” He brushes his thumb against my nose and looks at it, as if he can see dirt. A slow smile heats his face. “I thought I might be able to help you get all clean.”

  I splash him in the face.

  There’s an instant where he looks startled, and then a wave of water is coming in my direction.

  It turns into all-out war.

  I don’t know what’s taken over me, but I can’t help laughing as I splash him. Water flies back at me, almost blinding me in its intensity. I smash plumes of it directly in his face, and somehow win the first round.

  Or maybe that was only a ruse, to lure me in closer, for suddenly I’m the one being drowned.

  “Stop!” I yell, but there’s no surcease.

  Leaping upon him, I try and shove his head under the water, but he’s so impossibly strong. So big. Too late, I realize exactly how badly I’ve erred.

  Thiago captures both my hands. I lock my legs around his waist, determined to escape, but there’s no shifting him.

  My back hits the edge of the pool, and its only then, when he pins my wrists there, that I realize how trapped I am.

  And how naked he is.

  Suddenly, I can feel him, pressed hot and hard between my legs. The thin leather leggings are no barrier. Nor is my wet shirt. My nipples press against his chest, and we both still, caught in the sudden realization that we were doomed the second he hauled me into the water.

  This is the moment.

  My smile dies, laughter forgotten in the wake of the sudden flare of desire I feel. I can see it in his eyes too, dangerously green beneath those thick, wet lashes.

  “Vi,” he whispers, his gaze dropping to my mouth.

  My heart rabbits in my chest. Every inch of me hovers in indecision. This is no mere kiss he’s asking for. Everything changes from this point on.

  I know I have his heart. I know I’ve had it from the moment he first saw me, but I’ve never dared give him mine. Not this time.

  “You owe me a kiss,” he whispers.

  “I owe you two. I’m fairly certai
n its past midnight.”

  His smile melts me. “Well, I wasn’t counting, but I won’t say no.”

  “Liar,” I breathe. “You’ve got a tally nailed to your bedroom wall.”

  His fingers curl through mine, no longer pinning me, but relentless all the same. And I can feel the hard edge of his wedding band. The one he wears for me. The one he’s worn from the moment we married.

  I could tell myself a thousand times that this is dangerous, that we were never meant to be. I could use our kingdoms as an excuse, use my mother, my curse, all of it, to deny what I feel. But it’s a lie, and if there’s one thing I’ve always striven to do, it’s to tell the truth.

  I can’t help myself.

  I kiss him.

  Pushing against his hold, pushing hungrily into his mouth, it’s like I set something loose inside him, for he responds in kind. His hands slide down my ribs, tangling in wet fabric. There’s too many layers between us, and a thwarted moan escapes me. I want those hands on my skin. No, I need them. I want his mouth, his touch, the bite of his teeth—

  Thiago laughs, and I realize I’m biting his lower lip, as if to convey exactly what I need.

  “Anyone would think you were the one who’s spent all these years wanting what he can’t have,” he whispers, the stubble on his cheek scraping my jaw as he nips at my chin.

  “Who said you can’t have it?”

  His eyes darken. “I guess that decision is yours. It’s always yours.”

  And then he bites my chin, his lips grazing my throat as he works his way down.

  I arch my head back, moaning a little. “You’re making it very difficult to make a clear-headed judgement here.”

  Those lips pause. “Better?”

  “Don’t stop.” I grab a fistful of his hair and kiss his mouth. “Don’t you dare stop.”

  I can feel his smile against my mouth but there’s no time to think of anything more, for his tongue is lashing against mine, and his hands finally find the hem of my shirt and tug it free of my leggings.

  Then all I can feel are the roughened calluses on his hands as they glide up my stomach, higher—

  His thumb finds the bindings that cover my breasts, and I almost let forth a snarl of thwarted rage.

  “Are you sure, Vi?” he whispers in my ear. “Because if we go any further, then I’m not going to let you go. I’m not going to let you out of my bed.”