Torrent of Tears (Scourge Survivor Series Book 3)

by JL Madore

  I wiped the last of my tears away. “You might live to regret that. You’ve never seen me in party planner mode. I want the whole show. Cake, dancing, tossing the bouquet . . . I’m going to take that flower grenade and toss it yelling ‘crawl for it bitches’ . . . cause that’s what girls do.”

  Rowan barked out a laugh. “Done. Besides, you’re going to be a Noble of the Fifth House. The bigger you go, the better you’ll fit in.”

  I nipped the edge of his jaw and giggled. “I’ll never fit in with what the Noble Council considers appropriate.”

  He shrugged. “The Noble Council can stick it, it’s the citizens of the Fifth sector we need to worry about and they already love you.”

  “They do?”

  “Mhmm.” His kisses followed the trail of gems down my neck, along my collarbone, and down further. “Everyone is wearing chokers, like yours.”

  “I figured they’d lost people and appreciated the sentiment of the mourning bands.”

  “I’m sure that’s part of it,” he whispered against my bodice, “but they wear them for you. It’s a show of support. Those are your people.”

  “My people?” I giggled as he nuzzled under the fabric and edged toward my breast. “Who in their right mind would follow me anywhere?”

  Rowan lifted his head, his eyes glowing serious. “How can you not know what an incredible woman you are? You’re strong and smart and kind and—”

  “And my brother Bruin is stronger, my brother Julian is smarter and my sister Jade is . . . well Jade tops the charts on pretty much every other scale. I’m just Lexi, the spoiled, hot-headed Princess.”

  Yeah, that was about it. I was never as much of anything as my siblings.

  Rowan scowled. “I find that hard to believe. From where I sit, you’re amazing on every scale. In fact, if we weren’t bound to this room until morning I’d take you out and let the citizens show you how much you mean to them.”

  I rolled my eyes and was about to argue when a rap on the door had us jumping to our feet. After drawing the knife from beneath my skirt, I stepped behind the door and gave Rowan the nod. He turned the lock and opened the door a crack, then threw it open wider and ushered Ydorus and Father Rowan into the suite.

  “Elani?” Rowan said before the latch had even closed behind them. “Is she safe?”

  Ydorus nodded. “I put her on the launch myself and watched until Estes steered it out to the main canal. He won’t have any problem from there.”

  Rowan exhaled, his wide shoulders easing. “Thank you.”

  Ydorus patted him on the back and gestured to the Abbatis priest standing next to them. “Is this the man you were looking for? Lexi said the priest she danced with and since he is the only person she danced with. . . .” He held up his hands.

  The priest met Rowan chest-to-chest and they clapped each other on the back. “How are you, my boy?”

  Rowan stepped back and pulled me to his side. “I’ll be better once we’re married.”

  Father Rowan looked from his godson to me to Ydorus, who wore the same stunned expression. “But aren’t you getting married to—”

  “Lir-dickwad?” I said. “No. that’s not happening. If I have to be married to a Noble on my fifth birthday, we’ll alter the plans a little. Nothing they can do about it, right? I’ve been told a million times—the Laws are Absolute.”

  Rowan snickered at my attempt to capture the pious tone that everyone used when using that statement. “Who wants to be Lady-dickwad anyway?”

  “Exactly. And since it’s after midnight, it is my birthday. This Eligible is ready to get hitched.”

  The fire let off a crack as if in agreement and once the pillows were cleared from the floor, the priest positioned us in the center of the open space in front of the hearth.

  From his satchel, he retrieved a feathered fan and a smudge wand. He held the tip of the bundled wand against the embers of the fire until it started to smoke and the scent of white sage drifted in the air. Walking a counter-clockwise circle around us, he swept the feathers through the air as if metaphysically cleansing the space.

  “Face each other and join hands. Clear your minds of conflict. Troubles of the day have no place here. For two souls to stand the trials of time as one, you must unite as one in a place that is not a place, in a time that has no time.”

  I exhaled and shook out my hands before accepting Rowan’s. A million thoughts fired in my head, made me second guess, but when I looked up and met Rowan’s gaze, the chaos stopped. His grip was ready and steady. Solid. The room around us faded away as our connection took hold.

  Priest Rowan completed the first circuit and continued. “Tap into the Sacred around you. Feel the Divinity of the space. The power of the Veil, the god and the goddess. Focus on the energy arcing between you, within you.”

  The third time around, he set the feathers on the carpet to my left, the smoldering wand on the hearth, and took a vase of flowers from the mantle. He set the bouquet on the ground to my right and the water-filled vase behind me.

  When he rounded back to the fire he faced the flames. “Castian, god of gods, join us. We ask you guard and protect the joining of these two souls. Fire is passion, heat, anger and transformation. It consumes the old, making room for new growth in a relationship. Let it be so.”

  He moved a quarter of the circle and stood before the vase. “Water is the mother of us all. It nurtures us and cleanses our souls of inevitable slights and misunderstanding through meditation, introspection and dreams. Let it be so.”

  He continued around to stand before the flowers. “Shalana, goddess of earth and woodlands, bless this union of your creatures. Earth is the foundation of life. It gives love built together grounding, wisdom, and prosperity. Let it be so.”

  At his forth stop, he gestured to the feathers. “Air fills our lungs when we live life and tightens in our chest in warning. It is the element of thought and intelligence. In a marriage, it brings creativity, invention, and inspiration. Let it be so.”

  Stepping to our side, he smiled at his godson. “Rowan, Noble of the Fifth House, before the god and the goddess, speak only truth. Is this union a true and earnest desire?”

  “It is,” he said, his smile radiant.

  “Then swear to the powers of the Veil that you will honor Alexannia Grace, Princess of Attalos until your dying breath.”

  “I do so swear.”

  Priest Rowan nodded and turned to me. “Alexannia Grace, Princess of Attalos—”

  “Hells yes. I do so swear.” I glanced up at the heavens. “You hear that, Castian? And if your meddling nieces get any ideas about screwing this up for me, I’ll be pay each of them a visit. I do so swear that too.”

  Rowan chuckled and patted the priest’s shoulder, who was looking a little lost. He recovered and brought three candles out of his bag. “The traditional binding was done by blood but that ceremony transformed into the joining of light—”

  “I vote for blood,” I said, drawing the blade hidden in the train of my skirt. My cheeks warmed as the men blinked at me. “What? I’m a traditional girl. No pain, no gain, right?”

  Rowan snorted holding out his palm. “Right. Why light a wussy candle? We’ll do things the warrior way.”

  The priest accepted the weapon from my hand and scored each of our palms. When the line of blood rose from the wound, we clamped our hands together.

  “This joining represents the union of two. From this point on, your lives, passions, and futures are one.”

  The fire whooshed in a sudden flare and it was done.

  Married . . . ‘till death do us part.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  We fell asleep entwined together. After a few, sensual hours of consummating, we sank into the comfort of a perfect moment. No nightmares beckoned. No nocturnal visits from Tham. No invasion of the bitch Queen.

  The night remained ours and ours alone.

  In the dim light of pre-dawn, I rolled over and found Rowan’s body in the
sheets. He was warm and willing, hardening almost instantly to my touch. A deep inhale raised his broad, landscaped chest as I crawled across him and tugged the sheet lower.

  “What are you up to, Trouble?” Rowan asked, his voice graveled and tired.

  “Mischief,” I said, biting my bottom lip and eyeing the beautiful plains and ridges of his naked body. “You just lie back and relax. I’ll take care of everything.”

  A throaty chuckle escaped his chest as I continued my descent. While my fingers explored, I circled his nipple with my tongue, then nipped my way down his pec and over his tight abs. He groaned when I got to his navel, his hips undulating toward me, his erection pulsing for attention. A crystal tear appeared at the tip. Gods, I could taste him already. With a slow, firm hand I stroked him once from crest to base and took him into my mouth.

  He gasped, his body tensing like he’d been electrocuted. He was hot. He was huge. And he was mine.

  While he settled, I started with a slow up and down. He shifted his hips and widened his knees. I took advantage of the space, cradling his weighted sac in my palm. He was flawless. Perfection, from his wide shoulders, to the sexy indents of his hips, to his long-muscled legs dappled with silky brown hair.

  “You have the sweetest tongue,” he growled. I closed my eyes, absorbing every twinge and tightening of his muscles, every quake of pleasure, and every breath that tore from his lips. “You should have warned me, that being with you would steal my very sanity.”

  I laughed and his hips jolted again. He had treated me with such exquisite care over the past hours, passionate but gentle, every moment about me, about my pleasure, about letting me take what I wanted. This morning, I wanted the same for him.

  Strong hands squeezed my shoulders and tugged me upward. “Give me your mouth, wife,” he whispered pulling me up to his lips.

  It took all my willpower to give up my hold on him, but this was his moment after all. Heat pounded through my veins as I ran my hands up his ribs. In one smooth motion, I straddled his hips and took him inside me. Both of us groaned as I sat back and he sank deep into my core.

  “Kiss me, Lexi, before I lose my mind.”

  Leaning forward, yielded to his request. With a thrust of his hips, he pushed in further and I caught myself with my palms on the mattress. A stinging pleasure lit off inside me and almost distracted me from my goal. “Oh, no, Doc. This one’s about you. Now behave.”

  Our gaze locked just inches apart and he stared back at me. Rowan was power and tenderness, strength and reserve. He’d seen my best and my worst, and loved me anyway—maybe even loved me because of it.

  His lips met mine with possession, his hands tightening in my hair. With every push and pull, I grew hotter. And so did he. Within moments, lightning was gathering in my core and I pulled back to focus.

  His hips undulated in a slow rise and fall beneath me. Using the spasms of his muscles beneath my fingers as my guide, I rode him out, tormenting him when he came close, suspending his release. “The longer you burn, the more you’ll combust when the time comes.”

  He chuckled and his erection surged inside of me. The sensation was wickedly peculiar. “You’re a cruel, cruel woman, you know that. But I love you.”

  “I love you too.” Reality hit me then. What if this was our last time together? What if the guards came and killed us both . . . or worse, just him. Tears pooled.

  “Don’t think about it, baby,” he whispered against my mouth. “Stay with me. Right here. Stay with me.” With a soft curse, he pulled me against his chest and rolled us over. Face-to-face, with his weight between my legs, he took control. As he stared down at me, his expression held an intense mixture of love, fear, strength, sadness. . . .

  His eyes rolled closed and his pace picked up. The rhythmic shift of the bed grew louder. The friction of skin-on-skin grew hotter. His breath came in short, tight bursts and then as he pounded harder, faster, he stopped breathing altogether.

  I moaned as the veins popped at the sides of his neck and he threw his head back. The cry of pleasure was like nothing I’d heard before and it filled me with such a sense of satisfaction that I was lost.

  Release washed over the both of us. Not the earthquakes of the past hours. Not the sex with a purpose, desperate to hang on to each other when the time was fast approaching to tear us apart. No. This was languid, hot and luscious.

  This was making love.

  When it was over, I laid on my side looking at our candle and Rowan curled his massive body around me. After the blood bonding, we’d opted to do the candle tradition too. The two of us lit individual candles and used the flames to light a bigger, sturdier candle together.

  Neither one of us had wanted to blow the thing out last night, so it burned on. His arm draped heavy over my side and his palm stroked my chest and settled against the mattress, cupping my breast. “What are you thinking, Trouble?”

  I kissed the mound of his bicep where it rested under my cheek. “That you’re the first man to ever make love to me.”

  “I am, am I?” His voice was breathless, but that didn’t hide his skepticism.

  I frowned, wishing I could read his face. Without turning, I sensed him wanting to say something more, but hesitating. It was the same awkward tension that had come between us so many times before and it made me twitchy.

  “I didn’t say you were my first in bed, just that you are the first to truly make love to me.”

  He gave me a squeeze. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you. I’m . . . honored.”

  The apology was worse than the doubt. “Forget I said anything.”

  We laid there and suddenly, I was thankful to be facing the candle instead of him. I wanted to get up and head to the bathroom. I wanted to put my clothes back on because I was feeling waaay too naked.

  He pulled me tighter as if he knew I was about to bolt. “I honestly didn’t mean to ruin what you said. I am honored. It’s just . . . I was in your bathroom when you tended to Tham. I saw the way you bathed him. You were so gentle and so familiar. You said you were just friends, but you loved him, I know you did. And the way he looked at you before he died . . . I just thought he would have been—” He sighed. “Never mind. It’s none of my business.”

  I sat up, not sure if I was angry at Rowan or at the fact that Tham never got to have share himself with someone. “Don’t be stupid.”

  “Stupid? How am I stupid? I was trying to be accepting of your sexual relationship with another man.”

  “I told you. Highbornes only have intercourse with their mates and then are paired for life. Neither of us wanted long-term. We fooled around, but nothing beyond that.”

  I resisted the urge to stomp away. Locked in the darkness, skin touching, with only the sound of our breathing breaking the silence, I reined in my I-am-an-island instincts. “You were stupid because you said it’s none of your business. I’m your wife. If you have questions, you should ask them. I want you to ask them.”

  He sighed. “It’s not so much questions as me not wanting to compete with a ghost.”

  I shivered, thinking how close he was to the truth. How many times had I thought about telling him about Tham coming to me in my dreams? Whether it was real or not, Rowan would think I was clinging to a lost love and doubt his place in my heart. He wouldn’t understand and I wouldn’t risk hurting him like that.

  “Tham was a handsome man,” he said, his breath brushing my cheek. “He was obviously crazy about you. And the way the two of you connected. . .”

  Despite the heat of our combined bodies, my shiver grew into a chill. I grabbed his jaw and leaned close. “You aren’t competing with anyone. I’m yours, right? Tham was a huge part of my life the past few months. I’ll miss him forever but there was nothing romantic going on, not in the bedroom and not emotionally either.”

  He threw back the sheets and launched off the bed. “Forget I said anything.”

  I untangled my foot from the bedding and followed. “No. I want to hear it.
This relationship is a first for me. I want to be part of what you’re thinking.”

  He scrubbed the back of his neck, the long elegant lines of his body flexing as he moved. “I’m thinking that with the past four years and what you know about me . . . you’ll realize you regret marrying me and move on.”

  The air froze in my lungs. “I’m not going anywhere.” Hopefully. My heart sank as I had to amend that. “As long as I have a choice, you’re stuck with me . . . but, if you’re having second thoughts that’s a totally different.”

  His stare pegged me with all kinds of WTF. “No. None.”

  I nodded, crossing my arms over my bare chest. “Fine then, we’re happily married.”

  “Yeah . . . fine.” Turning his back, he strode to the bar and grabbed a glass. Reaching down to the center cabinet he opened the small fridge and grabbed a bottle of juice. When he slammed the thing shut the door next to it swung open.

  Shit. Rowan moved to close the door to the camera equipment and froze. His body tensed, the muscles in his shoulders tightening with an unnatural stillness. “Lexi, before you declare your loyalty to this marriage, there’s something you should know . . . that your mother might use to hurt us.”

  “I know about the tapes.”

  He straightened. “How?”

  My mind spun faster than I could think. The truth was ugly. It would make him feel worse about himself. Lying wasn’t really the best answer. Distraction wasn’t going to—

  “Answer me, Lexi,” he growled.

  My head snapped up at his command and he had the good sense to flush.

  “I’m sorry.” He blew a long breath out and when he spoke again, his voice was tense but calmer. “What do you know of the tapes the Queen makes?”

  I cursed, deciding to go with the truth. “Zale tried to get under my skin by showing me one of the two of you yesterday afternoon.”

  “Bullshit. The Queen hasn’t . . . nothing’s happened since the night we got back from laying Tham to rest in the Earth ring. I swear. I haven’t been with her since you and I—”