Soul of Thorns (Wicked Fae Book 3)

by Stacey Trombley

  The people may never accept her as queen or even as a consort of the king. But... but that’s a fight for another day.

  Today, I need to save her. And maybe it’s presumptuous for me to assume that intimacy with me could do that, but she’s so cold, so lonely, so sad. I want her to feel good. I want...

  I take in a long breath, preparing myself for this conversation. “I need to know something,” I say, my voice weak, unsure. “I need to hear it.”

  “What?” she whispers through the darkness.

  I press my lips to her shoulder and pause for only a moment. “I want to make this better for you, Cae. In any way I can. So, I want to know what it is you need.”

  “I—don’t...” She stumbles over her words.

  “I have to know if you want me to leave you be, or if you want me to pursue you. I have to know if you want me the way I want you.”

  I can feel her muscles tense at my words, her breath leaving her lungs. Then, her breath puffs back, faster than before.

  “Sometimes,” I continue softly, “I get the feeling being close to me is painful for you. So, if I’m only making it worse, I’ll stop. I’ll give you space. As much as it’ll torture me, I’ll do it.” I swallow. “But I want to be very clear that every moment we’re together I desire more. I want you in my arms. I want to...” I close my eyes, unsure how detailed I should get.

  Her heart pounds through her back and to my chest. “Tell me what you want,” she whispers in a desperate plea, sending a jolt of desire through my body.

  I pull her in tighter, one hand clenching the bare strip of skin at her midriff. The other slides up her inner thigh. I tense beneath her, fire burning through my veins.

  Caelynn gasps and wiggles against me.

  My hand abandons the sweet skin of her stomach and curls into her hair, gripping tightly. I pull her head to the side to give me open access to her neck. My teeth graze her skin, and she whimpers. I sweep my tongue up to her ear and take it between my teeth.

  “Tell me,” she demands breathlessly.

  “I want to explore every inch of your body, Caelynn. I want all of you.”

  She moans in earnest now, and it’s enough to send me spiraling.

  “I want to make you feel good, in every possible way.” Mine. My mate. “Tell me what you want, Caelynn.”

  Caelynn

  I want his hands to never leave my body.

  I want every barrier stripped from between us. These clothes and my scars.

  I want to feel his muscles beneath my fingers, tracing every sharp edge, tasting every soft corner.

  I want to kiss him.

  I want to bed him.

  I want him to call my name. To never stop uttering it with that desperate tone.

  I want him to drive me into insanity, where all I feel is pleasure. All I feel is him.

  I want Prince Reveln of the Luminescent Court to come apart at my touch. I want him to worship me, to bow before me. And for me to return the favor.

  I want him to make me forget my fear and guilt and pain.

  I want his warmth and comfort and safety.

  I want a mate, a lover, and friend to hold me, keep me, comfort me.

  But those are things I will never get in the Schorchedlands. And I don’t want to pretend.

  I want it to be real, but it never will be.

  Rev

  “I want a lot of things, Rev,” she whispers, her tone suddenly sober. “But not like this.”

  My veins cool in an instant. “Okay,” I whisper and beg my heart to calm quickly.

  My mind still spins over everything I want from my lovely shadow fae. I want to take her here, against the ash and dirt-covered stones of fae hell.

  I want her any way I can have her.

  But she’s probably right. We haven’t bathed properly in days. I don’t even want to consider the filth we’ve had smeared on our bodies. We’re in fae hell with evil just around the corner.

  I slide my fingers from her hair and my hand on thigh releases.

  “Don’t leave...Don’t stop completely,” she says. “Just...”

  “Okay,” I whisper again, understanding her. She wants closeness. She wants to feel me and know that I want her. But this isn’t the time and place that she wants to bed me.

  I open my mouth and graze sharp teeth against her soft skin. She shivers.

  “Let me tell you one thing then,” I say, lips just barely touching her. “When we get out of here... this—” I pause and run my nose over her neck. She squeezes my thigh. “This isn’t over.”

  A soft moan escapes her lips, and that is the most beautiful sound I’ve ever heard. I vow to myself I’ll hear it again. I will make her writhe with pleasure in a new way.

  “One day,” I mutter. “One day, I’ll have you, Caelynn of the Shadow Court.”

  Caelynn chuckles. “Or perhaps it’s me that will have you.”

  I let out a breath through my nose. “You can have me, Caelynn. I promise you that.”

  Caelynn

  My heart pounds so eagerly I can’t think straight. Rev’s hand settles back on my thigh, but its movement has halted. He doesn’t slide it farther the way I’m secretly begging him to.

  Every taste only makes me crave more. It’s a never-ending cycle. I will never be satisfied.

  Part of me is screaming for more. I want it. I need it.

  But the other part is terrified.

  I cannot have Rev. He isn’t mine and hasn’t been since the moment I shoved a dagger into his brother’s chest.

  You could have him now.

  I press my eye together, willing back tears. I could have him for a moment. I could. And then be heartbroken when it’s over. He talks like we’ll both be free of this curse soon. Like he won’t leave me behind in this place.

  He talks like there will be more of us once we’re out of here.

  But I know better.

  To be honest, that’s another grace about my current circumstance. I won’t ever live through that moment. Where Rev faces his real life and realizes what he had with me isn’t worth losing it all.

  He’ll be king. And I could never be queen for many reasons. Some he doesn’t even know yet. He’d take me as his for a night, a week—I don’t know but not long—before he realized the truth. That there’s no way for us to be together. We’ll both be crushed if we take this much farther.

  Logically, I know all of this. But his arms around me feel so good that I allow my mind to pretend. I won’t settle for a rushed, haphazard moment of passion that’s filled with bitterness. I won’t allow myself to soil us in that way.

  But in my mind, everything is right.

  In my mind, he loves me. I am right for him. In my mind, all of the obstacles are gone, all of the what-ifs don’t matter.

  It is only him and me.

  It is only his lips on my skin. His tongue exploring every inch.

  I find myself wondering if his thoughts match mine. If we’re here in this awful reality clinging to each other while simultaneously pushing away, but in our minds, we’re together. In another world, another dimension, we’re together. We’re perfect.

  My thoughts wind down because there is only so much I can do given my current circumstances. Eyes closed, I pretend to be lying in a big comfortable bed with silver covers and lush pillows, curled up in his arms. My cheek lies against his bare chest, my fingers curl into his over his torso that rises with calm, even breaths.

  And we sleep. Just sleep, comfortable and safe, and together.

  As much as I desire those other things, this is my perfect moment. Just being.

  Whole.

  Together.

  Rev’s grip on my thigh loosens over time. He shifts and huffs, his breathing evens, just like in my fantasy. Twisting my body to glance over my shoulder, I find his expression just as calm and relaxed as in my mind as well.

  A small smile plays at my lips.

  It’s warm enough here we do not need a blanket. He has his bl
anket bunched up behind his head and his backpack behind his back.

  I scoot out and spread my own blanket down on the uneven ground beside him. Then, I grab his upper arms and guide him to lay down. He won’t stay comfortable sitting up like that. He winces and groans but follows my guidance begrudgingly. I quickly grab his blanket and place it under her head just before he lays it down.

  He settles into his new bed with a frown, his eyes still closed. Content with my handiwork I begin to move away from him when his fingers grip my wrist.

  My heart sinks for an instant, but his eyes are still shut.

  “Don’t leave me, Cae,” he mumbles.

  I pull in a breath and hold it as my heart aches in the best way possible. “Okay,” I whisper.

  His hand falls limp to the ground, and I sit there panting for a moment before finally taking my spot at the cave mouth, watching the dark valley below, and I wonder how the hell I got here. And what the hell it could possibly mean that Rev desperately wants to keep me with him.

  Rev

  I force my dry eyes open, muscles stiff. The stone beneath me presses into my side uncomfortably. I’m surprised I’d been able to sleep like this at all.

  The shiver of shadow magic covers us like a sheet, but there’s no sign of my beautiful shadow fae ally.

  Her smell, her touch, the sounds she makes pop into my mind all at once. I should be focusing on much more important issues—like survival—but she’s stuck in my senses. I have to wait for anything more than these small pieces. I’ll have to fight for her life, especially because I’m not convinced she’ll fight for herself.

  Her magic permeates the small space, so though I can’t see her, and her backpack is missing I know she’s near. I crawl toward the opening and pass through the shadow shield. Magic washes over me, sending chills over my whole body.

  Only a few feet from the cave, a rock juts out over the edge of the mountain where we can get a decent vantage of the road leading to the fire wall. It’s not as clear as the spot a hundred feet down the path, but I doubt Caelynn’s magic would be so strong if she were that far away. The sky is still dark blue, but the edges of the horizon are lightening ever so slightly. Dawn is only an hour or two away.

  I grab my backpack, still holding most of our supplies, just in case.

  I climb up to the stone, which remains empty of life, and then in one instant, the misty darkness clears to expose a blond fae that takes my breath away. God, she’s beautiful.

  Her hair tosses in the wind, her eyes a dull bronze, which she narrows as she examines me.

  “What?” I ask.

  She pauses, leaning in ever so slightly. “What was that look?”

  My lips part—I don’t know. “I... was just thinking how beautiful you are.” I shrug, my neck growing warm.

  She frowns in confusion and closes her eyes like those words have affected her deeply.

  Caelynn’s eyes fly wide open, and then a rush of cold power washes over me. Her shadows curl around my back and grip me tightly, the darkness settling into my skin. I shiver. She motions for me to join her on the stone.

  Together, we watch the pathway below as shadows shift. It’s so dark I have a hard time making out all the forms, but there is certainly something down there. A group of wraiths, perhaps?

  All I can make out are silhouettes of ghoulish figures as they move to and fro. The pathway here is fairly busy, but I wouldn’t have expected this to be a central place of travel for the creatures in these lands. Hadn’t we heard that not many wraiths travel past the wall? Why would they all gather under it?

  A gentle rumble begins in the distance. My breath catches. Is it that beast again? A hush settles over the valley, the silhouettes below growing still. The entire valley seems to hold a collective breath.

  What are they waiting on?

  Another boom vibrates through us.

  “Do you think...”

  Caelynn grips my forearm tightly, and I cut my words off. Her pulse throbs against my arm, eyes focused below. Can she see more than I can? Probably. Shadow fae see in the dark significantly better than most other fae as a general rule.

  The mountains surrounding us shudder, trembling like they, too, are terrified of the coming beast. The thundering footsteps grow louder, closer.

  My heart is in my throat as the roaring flames crackle then split with a crack like lightning.

  My heart is in my throat as a monolith silhouette appears in the dark flames. Caelynn’s fingers dig deeper into my skin, and that’s my only hint that she’s also seen the creature.

  “What is that?” I whisper.

  The creature has to be fifty feet tall, with grey skin and red eyes. Black flames lick around its form where its skin still contacts the magical wall.

  “Shh.” Caelynn sits up ever so slightly.

  I stumble in closer as her shadow shield tightens. Her dark magic brushes up against my skin, sending a wave of pleasure over my body.

  The creature’s chest and legs are as thick as trees, its skin nearly the same color as the mountains surrounding us, and massive black horns shoot from its skull and curl around its head.

  The creature’s eyes glow as red as the flames behind it. They turn our direction. Then, it takes another deliberate step, shaking the earth along with it.

  The creature stands up straight on its hind legs. I swear this thing is half the size of the damn mountain.

  “Is that her?” I whisper.

  Caelynn groans in annoyance at my refusal to remain quiet, but if the Night Terror has just joined us in this part of the Schorchedlands, that’s something I’d like to know. I suppose no matter who this creature is it can’t be good. I’m just wondering what level of bad we’re talking about.

  The creature rumbles in what could be a laugh. As if this laugh was a signal, the wraiths restart their movement. Their groans grow into a thick wall of sound, surrounding us. Their smoke magic wafts through the hills and pathways below. And the creature just stands there.

  For several minutes, we sit still as stone, cloaked by Caelynn’s magic while the wraiths dance to the song of their own groans around the massive horned being. It’s the weirdest thing I’ve ever seen.

  “You shouldn’t be here,” a hushed voice—so much closer than the others—whispers through the wind, low and eerie.

  I wince, and Caelynn sits up, a rusted iron knife in her grip. “What the hell are you doing here?” she hisses. “Haven’t I made it clear you are not welcome with us?”

  A being of dark smoke floats just feet above us. Caelynn’s wraith.

  “Telling you how foolish you are being, obviously.”

  “Last I heard, you didn’t want to help us,” I whisper. Either of us. It isn’t just me he’s working against now. Below, the tempo of the strange display hasn’t changed. The wraith gathering hasn’t seemed to have noticed our interaction.

  “I have no desire to help you pass through the wall, no. But that is because I wish to keep your mate alive. Unlike you.”

  “I want to keep her alive too.” My jaw clenches.

  “I’ll believe that when I see it. This is a very one-sided mate-ship, I will say.”

  My lip curls to expose my teeth, but Caelynn responds before I get the chance.

  “It’s not a mate-ship. No one has accepted or acted on anything. We are allies, doing what is best for each other.”

  My stomach twists, rejection bitter on my tongue.

  The wraith chuckles, low and slow. “Neither of you believe that, do you?” He sighs dramatically and then spins around.

  “What is this thing?” Caelynn asks quickly as if trying to change the subject or just get his attention before he leaves again. The wraith has made it very clear he’s not my ally, but he does seem to want what’s best for Caelynn. Perhaps in that way, we can be aligned—that is, when he’s not trying to kill me. Half an ally is better than none, and he very likely has the information we require.

  Perhaps it’s time to turn the ga
mes on him so we can get what we need.

  “A manticore.” He waves his hand dismissively.

  “It’s not the Night Terror?” I ask.

  The wraith pauses, facing me with eyes wide, and then blurts out in a hysterical laugh. “You think that is the Night Terror? Oh, dear boy, are you in for a surprise.”

  “I know it’s not her. But what is it doing?” Caelynn asks.

  My fingers curl on her waist gripping her tightly.

  “It’s a messenger, of course.”

  “A messenger?” I repeat.

  “How else do you think she communicates with the wraiths on the outskirts?” The wraith’s voice slurs and rumbles like the other moans wafting through the air. Is he trying to blend in? “Most wraiths refuse to pass the wall of flames, and she cannot. Not without sacrificing much of her power. So, her beasty does the crossing to pass along her orders and give gifts to those who obey.”

  “That thing isn’t too evil to pass the flames?” Caelynn asks.

  The wraith rolls his eyes. “That thing has no soul. And so, it cannot be affected.”

  I narrow my eyes. No soul. Do those animals have souls? Is that why the rabbits can hop through without so much as blinking?

  “You said he gives gifts. What kind of gifts do wraiths desire?” Caelynn asks.

  “The Night Terror can give the wraiths what many—including you, if I remember correctly— have desired. To die content, clinging to the things they loved most. It’s an illusion much like the Forest of Desires, but a strong one, and without the pesky issue of being eaten and tortured by trees. They will leave this world without pain. She also offers influence on the human world occasionally.”

  “They can influence the human world?” I mutter.

  “Indeed. The Night Bringer is quite adept at that. Being ancient mated-beings, they can communicate. He knows all about what’s happening with you, deary. You can be sure about that. And she has followed your journey closely all these years.”

  Caelynn tenses.

  I blink slowly. I don’t even want to know more. “So, what is it doing now?” I nod to the manticore.