“I suppose.”
“So, have you been baking your lumpy cakes over the years?”
His healing magic streamed along my limbs, tingling and hot. My neck arched as I gave in to its pleasure. “Not yet. There’s still time to learn, Salem. When I reach a hundred sixty, I will make the finest, messiest cake the world has ever seen. I’ll decorate it with buttercups and beautiful indigo monkshood.”
“Both poisonous. I like your style—beauty and death all in one.”
“Oh. I should probably get a book on wildflowers before I cook with them.” Warm euphoria spread through my muscles. I didn’t want the healing to end.
“I don’t understand, exactly, why you wouldn’t want to reign.”
“Because that was Mama’s job. Reigning would have meant my mother was dead, and I never wanted that.”
His fingers twitched on my chest. “Ah… well.” He cleared his throat. “I don’t know how to handle remorse. It’s like a dark claw in my chest. Things were easier when I felt nothing.” He pulled his hand away, and the warmth of his magic left me. My leg felt completely healed now, but when he moved away, a chill of dank castle air rushed over my skin.
A sliver of moonlight pierced the windows, highlighting an empty fireplace across from us, its stone mantle carved with gargoyles. For a moment, I envisioned Salem calling forth fire in there. Imagined us creating a warm home in a place like this.
But even without the fire, Salem made it cozy.
I took a deep breath, trying to process everything that had happened, and he crossed to the windows. Rain still hammered against them.
Salem glanced at the panes and went still for a moment. His mood had shifted into something dark, anguished. The stream of moonlight outlined his broad form. His shoulders looked slumped, and he stared down at his hands. I’d never seen him look defeated before.
“You’re still losing blood,” I pointed out. “Let me try to heal you.”
He didn’t move, just kept staring down at his hands. “I think Richelle was right. That I can’t ascend to the heavens as I am. It makes sense with everything I know…” The torment of a thousand years underscored his low voice.
I inhaled sharply. “You can’t give up on the idea just because of one prophetess.”
“I won’t hurt you of my own volition. I couldn’t. And yet I will be your death, because there is someone very powerful who wants that to happen. We will find a cure for the poison in your blood. I’m sure of it. We can find a witch to heal you. But if I don’t leave this world, I will be your death. It’s the way the story is written, because our story is a tragedy.”
“You don’t know that yet. It’s not over.” The light in the room took on a cold gleam, and a cage of dread closed around my chest. “Who is your wife?”
My words sounded distant, echoing off the stone walls. I knew that his wife was at the heart of all this, but I still didn’t know what the story was.
He was still staring out the window. Then he pulled off his bloodstained shirt and dropped it on the floor. “There are things I can’t talk about.”
“I know. Your curse stops you from telling me about it.” I sighed. “But please tell me that you’re not still married.”
I waited, my heart thumping against my ribs, for him to answer.
28
Aenor
The world seemed to be holding its breath.
“Of course I’m not.”
“Good, and that’s all you can say, I suppose. The star was called Wormwood, a cursed man cast out of the heavens, leaving you in the dark. Unable to speak or tell your own story. And it seems your former wife had something to do with it, and she’s super into the idea of you killing me.”
I remembered Mama saying long ago that it didn’t matter who you were—men would write their own stories about you. You could be cast in one of several roles: a girl who needed teaching, a hysteric who needed calming, a whore…
But it wasn’t always men telling stories about women, was it? No—it was bigger than that. It was that old adage: history was written by the victors.
“The winners get to write the stories,” I said.
“And that’s why I’m the devil, Aenor, reviled for all of history.” His voice carried with it an ancient pain. “But there’s not much more I can tell you about that.”
“I’m sure there’s more than one way to break your curse. There must be.”
He sat on the edge of the bed again, forearms resting on his knees. “I’m not lying when I say I will be your death.” His voice was as cold and quiet as wind through the leaves. “What did you do with the sea glass?”
“I jammed it into your neck and nearly slit your throat. Remember? Now, you need to let me heal you.”
He touched his neck, shifting away from me as I reached for his heart.
“I think I pulled it out, and I dropped it.” Frustration tinged his voice. “I pulled it from my throat and dropped it in the amphitheater.”
“So? We don’t need it.”
“We need to find it, Aenor.” His voice had the ragged edge of desperation.
“It’s the only thing that can kill you. What exactly do you have planned, Salem?” Maybe he thought he was destined to kill me, but I didn’t believe it.
“It keeps replaying in my mind—my elbow hitting the side of your skull. I can hear the crack of bone against bone, and then you fell in the water. And I could barely stop myself as my hands were around your throat. Do you know how close that was, Aenor? This is the way our story has been written since the beginning of time.”
I crawled closer to him, then slid into his lap, straddling him. One of his hands moved to my waist. He was looking at me with an intense expression, like I was his salvation.
I pressed my palm over the dagger wound in his chest and let my forehead rest against his. The strength of our bond pulled us closer—but I didn’t feel the flow of magic like I normally would. Just a little trickle, and that was all.
I heaved a sigh. “It’s not working. The divine hex is stopping the flow of magic.”
He reached up for the side of my face. “I heal fast. I like your hand where it is, even if it’s not working.” That deep, rich, velvety tone had returned to his voice. “If I could, I would carry you back with me to beginning of the world, when I first fell. There would be no curses, no lost crowns, no drowned sisters. There would be no burning in caves, no hexes. It would just be me, alone with you.”
I breathed in his warm scent. “There’s still time.”
I wasn’t even sure what I meant by that. Maybe another plea for him to stay. The air warmed around me, and my thumb moved back and forth on his bare chest. The slanting light sculpted his thickly corded body. I stared at him, trying to memorize every shadow, every curve of his biceps and shoulders.
But I was avoiding looking into his eyes. I’d feel too much with his intense gaze burning me up. “I’ll miss you when you go. I can look after myself, but for a little while, it was nice having someone else looking after me, too.”
“We only have a little time left.”
I frowned at him. The sea glass, the short amount of time… I had a sense of what he was thinking. “A moment ago, you said that the only way to remove the curse was to kill me, and that you wouldn’t do it. So what, exactly, are you planning? I’m not going to kill you, if that’s what you think. I know you think you’ll be the death of me for some reason you can’t explain, but I don’t believe it. Not all prophecies come true. Just look at all the bullshit Beira shouted.”
Heat flashed off his body, and he tucked his finger under my chin, lifting my face to his. His expression was scorching, and my heart splintered for a moment. It was too much, too intense, like looking right into the setting sun.
“I take back what I said before, about how our bond was a mistake or a trick of fate,” he said, his voice whispering over my skin. “It isn’t. There were reasons I had to say that to you. The truth is, we are meant to be together, even i
f just for a short time.”
“I know.”
He traced one fingertip down my throat, leaving a trail of shivering warmth. “Our union is a brief, blinding explosion of light in the darkness. It’s a star bursting into life and dying in the vast expanse of eternity. It’s perfect, even if it’s not forever. And there will never be another moment like this, Aenor, with you sitting in my lap, and the rain hitting the windows, and the feel of your hand on my chest. There will never again be two powers like us, joining together. We are two beautiful and broken souls perfectly made for each other.”
But under all his beautiful words, there was that dark undertone of what would happen next. “What is it that you think should happen? What exactly is the nature of this impermanence if you can’t ascend to the heavens?”
A sensual smile curved his lips. “What do I think should I happen? I intend to use these last moments as best as possible.” The sexual promise in his tone sent a jolt of molten heat through my body, nearly making me forget about the darkness between us.
“But I’m not going to kill you,” I said again. “So you can put that dumb idea out of your pretty little head.”
Perhaps I could convince him to stay here with me, just me and him. Even if he was cursed.
His lips were just inches from mine now. Gods have mercy, he seemed to have the ability to take me apart completely. With his erotic magic curling around me and the feel of his powerful hands on my waist, it was hard to think clearly. His thumbs moved up and down over the hollow of my hips.
“You’re not going to be the death of me,” I said, “nor me of you. Because it’s like I said: I trust you completely, even if you’re Lucifer. I know you can’t talk about it, because that’s part of the curse. But I think the curse is what turned you evil. I think it’s the story written about you by someone else.”
His eyes shone as he looked at me, too bright, too intense.
I kept my palm pressed against his chest, even if it wasn’t actually healing him. “Maybe you were a bit of a jerk before. You pissed off your wife, got yourself cursed. But I don’t think you were the devil when you first fell. I think the curse changed you, corrupted you. And now, after fighting off this evil for all those years, you’re yourself again. Or nearly there. And most importantly, you’re mine.”
Something like exaltation flashed in his eyes. He took a deep breath. “I want to believe that’s true.”
“I understand your former wife wants me dead, though.”
“Our time is limited, one way or another.” His head dipped, lips near my neck, breath warming my skin. “You really trust me completely?”
“Yes. I don’t want that sea glass back. And you can still control my mind completely, and I’m not even worried about it.”
“Is that right?”
I reached for his throat, my fingers around it as I looked into his eyes. “Yes.” An idea burned in my mind as I remembered my fantasy in the boat. “You should do it now. Take control of my body.”
“Aenor, you do surprise me.”
“Mmm. Well, I’m your queen, aren’t I? So that’s a command.”
He dipped his head again and kissed my throat. “I want to get to know every inch of your body, my queen. I want to hear you moan and gasp, and I want to see all of you, Aenor, because you are mine.”
My breath was speeding up. I wanted what he was promising. Instantly, his magic boomed in my mind, that steady, vibrating beat.
I wasn’t looking at his eyes, but at his full lips.
“Aaah, there we are, under my control,” he said, and the erotic promise in his voice made my skin heat. “I’ll get to explore you to my heart’s content.”
Already, I could hear his magic beating in my mind—that low pounding of the drum. It pulsed through my body, deep and hot. As liquid heat sped through me, I wanted to shift my hips on his lap, but he was in control. Around us, the air started to feel heavy and warm.
I suddenly felt as if the room were blooming with life. With his control of my mind, he slid my hand down his chest, grazing over his abs.
My gaze was transfixed on Salem’s face, the faint moonlight tinging his strong jaw line and sharp cheekbones. The only thing I didn’t want to look at was his eyes—those heartbreaking, almond-shaped eyes that shifted from amber to dark indigo—because they reminded me so sharply of what I would lose. Because when I looked into his eyes, the full weight of it pressed down on my chest. The heaviness of the inevitable separation between us. Easier just to lose myself in the pleasure.
A deep need was building in me, and I felt acutely conscious of every inch of my skin now—of my damp dress riding up around my upper thighs, of the way it molded to my breasts. Salem compelled me to lean forward and kiss him, and my nipples went hard as he kissed me deeply.
When his tongue swept against mine, heat bloomed in my body.
He relaxed his hold on my mind, and I moved my hips against his hardness, an ache building deep inside me. The kiss grew deeper, more passionate, and I wrapped my arms around his neck.
He ended the kiss by taking my lower lip between his, and I gasped a little. I opened my eyes again to see him staring at me intently. He took a deep, shaking breath, like he was trying hard to restrain himself.
I dropped my gaze, overwhelmed by looking into his eyes.
Once more, that booming magic sounded in my mind, and I felt my fingers moving to the buttons of my dress. I started unbuttoning it from the collar down, and once I reached midway down my chest, Salem slid his hand inside the collar.
Slowly, he pulled off one side of my dress, sliding it just a little down my shoulder. He leaned close and kissed my neck, heat radiating out from the place where his lips met my skin. His tongue flicked against my throat slowly, deeply. I felt my neck arching at his exquisite kiss. I breathed deeply, an ache building inside me.
He pulled away from my neck just a little, breath hot on my skin. “I’m going to draw this out as long as I can, Aenor.”
And that declaration sent both nerves and a thrill down to the ends of my toes.
29
Aenor
All I could think was that one phrase—just that he was mine, and I needed him to stay with me. There were no other words in my mind, just that one, rolling around. Mine. I wanted to blast back through time and find him where he’d fallen and tell him everything would be fine and that he wasn’t alone.
Dimly, through the sexual haze, I felt aware of the wet dress clinging to my body, draping over my breasts like a subtle kind of sexual torment. With another kiss on my neck, Salem pulled the shoulder of my dress further down, exposing the top of my breast. Molten desire swept through my belly.
He moved his mouth lower, trailing hot kisses over me, and I realized I was unbuttoning my dress further, under his control.
With a sharp tug, he pulled the shoulder of my dress down further still. My nipple hardened in the castle air, and he took it in his mouth, sucking on it. His tongue whirled, hands rooting me in place at my hips. My thighs clenched around his, and I found my hands sliding into his hair, gripping it.
When he looked up at me with that beautiful curl of his lips, his dark hair ruffled, he looked exactly the way he should. I’d never seen a hair out of place on him before. I liked him this way—looking up at me, imperfect, himself completely.
I leaned down to kiss him on the mouth again, but his magic boomed in my skull, stopping me. My lips hovered just an inch from his, and our breath mingled. I could feel him starting to take over more completely. Gods, I ached to kiss him, to move my hips against him, but this was what I’d asked for. This would be a game between us, and we were about to start playing.
“Ahh, Aenor,” he murmured. “Like I said, I will be drawing this out as long as possible.”
From the hollows of my mind, he was commanding me to rise, and I felt myself slide off his lap, standing before him.
He had me take a step back from him, and my body hummed with need. Now, I realized I was
unbuttoning the rest of my dress while he watched me with that beautiful, wicked smile. He was commanding my body, in complete control of me—but I liked it, because I knew he’d never hurt me, not of his own volition.
His magic was a deep, rhythmic heartbeat in my mind. My fingers obeyed his wishes, and I was pulling off my dress. As it dropped to the floor, the air kissed my skin. Every inch of my body felt sensitive, desperate for his touch, and now, I wore only a pair of lacy white underwear.
He gripped the side of the bed where he sat, looking like he was trying not to jump up and grab me. “You are perfection, Aenor.”
He released his hold on my mind for a moment, and I crossed to him again, sliding into his lap. Straddling him, I leaned in to kiss him deeply. My nipples brushed against his steely chest. Gods have mercy, the sweet ache pulsing between my thighs was driving me insane. As he slid his hands into the back of my panties, it only grew more intense, and I longed for him touch me.
I drew a shivering, gasping breath, moving against him.
Gods, I wanted him now. I started kissing his neck, yearning to have all of him. Some insane, primal part of my mind thought that if I claimed him here, and then again and again, we would be with each other forever. He wouldn’t leave.
I reached down to unbutton his pants, trying to tug them off.
“Mmm…” A low chuckle escaped his throat. “But I said I’d take my time, Aenor.”
His pulsing magic took over my mind again, a throbbing beat in my thoughts. My body obeyed his desires, and I slid off his lap, finding that I was now crawling on the bed on all fours. I clutched the soft moss beneath me and waited to see what he would do. I ached for him so deeply that all I could think about was how much I wanted him to touch me, to make me come.
“Aenor…” His silky voice slipped over my skin. “I love how you burn for me.”
Rising Queen Page 15
