by Olivia Ash
She yanked her arm away from him and sneered. “Go fuck yourself, Winston.”
Furious, he stood, blustering like a child. “You’ll regret this.” He pointed a finger at her.
She wanted to reach out and snap it right off like a twig from a branch.
“And not just because I’m such a great guy, but because I can make things difficult and, well, you should just use your imagination.” He turned on his boot heels then stomped away, muttering under his breath about how she could sleep with the entire castle guard and their horses for all he cared. Two other people who were in the garden had to leap out of his way or be knocked over. They looked over at her, giving her a disparaging look, as if it was her fault Winston had a temper tantrum. She hated that his outburst had drawn attention to her.
Tense, angry, and fueled with rage, Sophia jumped to her feet and paced the garden. She’d lost her temper on Winston and was sure she was going to pay for it in some way. She was running out of time. The full moon was coming. She didn’t have much time before she had to present her men to the oracles and hope that she made the right choice.
Chapter Thirty-One
Ezekiel
For the past week, Ezekiel had been perfecting his spell, the one that failed to show him what tied him to Nighthelm and kept him coming back. He stared at the circle drawn out on the gray stone floor, and then sighed deeply, wondering if he should bother to use it. Over all, he’d spent years on the spell, but now he had Sophia. He found a reason to stay, finally, that didn’t include whatever black magic kept drawing him back home. She was his reason.
He stared at his lifetime of work around the dark hall, etched on walls and floors, on papers spread across tables, and wondered if he really had Sophia. He hoped that she would choose him, but after meeting with Edric and Andreas and seeing that they too had fallen for her, he wasn’t so confident.
If she didn’t choose him, he would want to leave and never return. If she rejected him, it would be the final, devastating blow from a city he could no longer live in. If she rejected him, he would want to leave immediately, and to do that, he had to be free of whatever kept drawing him back.
It’s settled, then, he said to himself. I need to do this. I need to make this work.
Just in case.
After walking around the circle on the floor, inspecting the extra symbols he’d added one last time, Ezekiel decided to use the spell. This time it wouldn’t just show him the source of the magic… it would summon the user and bind her within the circle, so Ezekiel could interrogate her and finally deal with her in whatever way he saw fit.
He checked his belt to make sure he’d sheathed one of his daggers, in case he needed it. He was certain whoever had trapped him to Nighthelm wasn’t going to be happy to have been summoned with a binding magic spell, so Ezekiel was just taking precautions.
He clapped his hands twice, and then rubbed them together in a circular pattern to energize his magic and bring it to the surface. Lifting his hands over the circle, he pushed all his intentions into his power as the skin on his hands began to glow.
At first, there was some push back from somewhere. He wondered if it was the source combating his magic. Frowning, he concentrated all his thoughts into one thread of power. He would literally reach through space and time, lasso the source of the black magic, and pull it through the ether and into the protected circle.
In his mind, he envisioned his magic like rope. It wrapped around a form, and Ezekiel pulled back with his hands as if he tugged on a thick, braided cord. With an audible pop, and a blinding flash of light, a form appeared within his magical circle.
Finally.
Victorious, Ezekiel grinned in triumph. Blinking away the black spots in his vision from the white burst of light, he looked at the person curled up on the floor. His heart leapt into his throat, as he couldn’t believe what he saw.
Sophia lifted her head, rubbing at her temples as she met Ezekiel’s gaze. Licking her lips as if they were dry, she got to her feet. She wobbled, clearly exhausted from his spell, and fell back down to her knees. The trip through the ether wouldn’t have been a pleasant one, but that was by design. His spell was supposed to strip the source of the black magic, making it weak, trapping it in his circle so that he could finally destroy it.
But this… Ezekiel didn’t know what to make of this.
“Sophia? How can this be?” He frowned, not believing his eyes.
She rubbed at her forehead again. “So, you’re the one who’s been poking and jabbing at me. I should’ve guessed. Your magic is very strong.”
He shook his head. No, this wasn’t possible. But then again, maybe that was the reason he’d been so drawn to her. Maybe it wasn’t love that connected them.
Maybe it was black magic drawing him to this woman. A curse.
Ezekiel summoned a powerful spell—one that could kill—and aimed it at her. His body rippled and buzzed with the magic as he held it at bay, waiting for the right moment to strike even while he doubted he could bring himself to do so. His anger boiled within him, a lifetime trapped in this damned place of nightmares and bad memories eating away at his resilience.
She lifted her chin and stared him down defiantly, although she was clearly weakened. Her skin was pale, slick with sweat, and she kept rubbing at her head as though it were throbbing. Something had happened to her. It wasn’t just his spell, and for this one moment, she was completely at his mercy.
“You’re not a sorcerer,” he said through gritted teeth. “I would know. There hasn’t been a sorceress in centuries.”
She continued to stare at him, never saying a word. She simply waited, and that infuriated him even more. Despite the surprise of seeing her under the circumstances, he respected her defiance. He’d known from their first meeting that she was a woman not to be messed with. He just didn’t realize how much that was true.
“But you do have magic,” he finished.
“Yes,” she said, a bit breathless. “But it’s not what you think.”
His spell shouldn’t have disabled her. It wasn’t designed that way, just to summon, so someone else had done damage to her. He swallowed his anger as she briefly closed her eyes and sighed heavily, clearly weary, clearly exhausted, clearly pushed to her limits. He didn’t like seeing her so weak.
His anger cracked, if only a little.
He loomed over her, looking her straight in the eyes. “Tell me the truth,” he said. “All of it.”
She sighed again. “When I was little, my family was killed and something horrible was done to me. My memories are gone, but I must have seen something that traumatized me in ways you’d never understand. It broke me.” Her gaze never faltered from his. “It broke my magic. It broke my soul.”
“You’re an anima contritum.”
The realization jolted him. In the silence that followed, he had no idea what to say.
She raised her head and, after a few more moments of silence, nodded. “I am.”
He was astonished, but as the truth began to sink in, it all made sense. The contest. The books she had asked him for. Her lack of fear of the woods. Her skills as a warrior. He fought with himself, furious about being lied to but understanding why. Being an anima contritum meant instant death in Nighthelm, and she had been forced to hide, forced to lie, never knowing who she could trust. He would’ve hidden himself in similar circumstances.
Per the law he was bound to uphold, he was supposed to fire his spell. He was supposed to notify the guard and carry out an instant death sentence. She had admitted what she was, confessed, and it was his duty to the crown to destroy anything that would harm the city.
But he wouldn’t. Despite all that, despite the lies, despite what she was… he was too in love to care.
He lowered the spell and broke the circle, freeing her. Stepping into the chalked lines, he helped her to her feet. She wobbled again, and fell into his arms. He held her close, running a hand through her hair as he tried to fully compreh
end what had just happened.
“I’m sorry for summoning you,” he said softly. “I was trying to find the dark magic that has been tying me to this place, never allowing me to leave. But to realize… to find out it’s you…”
“I’m glad you did it.” She met his gaze. “I’m glad you know what I am. I can quit hiding from you. I’ve wanted to tell you for so long, but I never knew how.”
“Did I hurt you? I was sure the summoning wasn’t designed to injure, just to capture.”
She frowned and shook her head. “I don’t think it was your magic. I’ve been in pain for some time now.”
He stroked her hair again. “Is there anything—”
“No,” she interrupted with a weary chuckle. “I’ve tried everything I know.”
He sighed and tenderly held her chin, brushing his thumb across her lip as the realization of what she was fully sank in. “We’re the same, you and I,” he said. “My family was killed when I was a boy. They were murdered by grimms during a diplomatic mission for the crown. My parents were loyalists, supporters of the royals, and they opposed the duchess taking over as steward. Their massacre allowed her to ascend without opposition. I know she didn’t have a hand in wild animals killing my family, but I’ve still always hated her for that.”
She placed her hand on his cheek. “I’m so sorry for your loss, Ezekiel.”
He put his hand on top of hers. “I’ve wanted nothing more than to leave this city and the cursed memories of my family’s murder. I’ve been trying for years to escape. But now that I’ve met you, I don’t want to go anywhere but here.”
A thin smile broke across her face. Without another word, she pulled his face down and pressed her lips to his. Heat instantly swelled inside him at the touch. He cupped her cheek and deepened the kiss, tasting her with his tongue. The kiss was hot, wet and made his groin clench.
“Oh Gods, Sophia, I want you.” He nuzzled his face into her neck, tracing the tip of his tongue along her jawline.
“Then have me.”
Ezekiel ran his hands down her back and grabbed her around the ass. He lifted her up, carried her across the room and set her down on his desk. All the papers of spells he’d written and agonized over for years scattered everywhere, but he didn’t care.
He had what he wanted right here in front of him.
He kissed her again, as his fingers worked the ties on the bodice of her dress. Soon, he was able to pull down the fabric to expose her beautiful breasts. Peppering kisses down her neck, he nibbled on her skin, lathing his tongue over her rigid nipples. She gasped and buried her hands in his hair as he suckled on one and then the other. He reveled in the way she quivered under his touch. He was quivering too, unsure if he could trust himself not to lose control and take her hard and fast.
When he came back up to her face and kissed her again, her hands streaked under the hem of his shirt and ran up to caress his chest. He pulled the shirt off so she could touch whatever she wanted of him.
He was hers, body and soul. Whatever she wanted, whatever she needed, he would provide.
She leaned forward and kissed his chest, her soft lips sending jolts of pleasure straight down to his groin. He groaned as his pants became a bit too tight and uncomfortable.
She must’ve noticed, because she reached for the ties on his slacks. “Let me help you there,” she said with a mischievous little wink.
While she tore at his pants, he pushed up on her skirt. More papers fell from the desk, and the desk moved and banged against the wall. The sound echoed around them, and soon Sophia was giggling. Her joy was contagious and he started to laugh as well as they decimated the workspace he had spent so many nights at, where so much of his time had slipped away from him. Then they were tearing at each other’s clothes, eager to feel everything at once. Until finally, he was freed from the constriction of his trousers and was positioned between her legs.
Unwilling to wait a moment longer, he placed his hands on her silky, soft thighs and thrust his cock inside her.
She moaned. Her hands dug into his back, and he hissed as he lost himself in the blurred line between pleasure and pain.
She was so hot and wet that he had to bite down on his lip to stop from crying out with pleasure. He couldn’t remember a time he’d been so overwhelmed with desire. With lust. With need.
Sophia made him feel whole.
Being inside her, touching her, kissing her, thrusting into this woman… it was all he could think of. It was all he’d ever wanted. It consumed him.
She consumed him.
She wrapped her arms around him and held on as he lost himself in her. Her little gasps of pleasure spurred him on, until he was sweating and panting as he bucked into her as hard as he could. She took it all, spread her legs wider so that she could ride him to the hilt, and the way she couldn’t seem to get enough of him just made him harder.
He was so close to the edge, so near release. Every ounce of him ached to pour into her, but he refused to come before his woman.
As he thrust into her, her beautiful eyes fluttered. Her mouth formed a delicious “O” as she moaned, riding him, a loose curl sticking to her face and framing it perfectly.
She was close.
As her back arched, her sex tightening around his cock with orgasm, he buried his face into the side of her neck and came deep inside of her. Her happy little moans followed close behind, and she arched her back, grabbing his hair and moaning long and low until they were both spent.
He wasn’t sure if he could move, so he just leaned against Sophia and hoped his legs didn’t give way. She pressed kisses along his cheek and forehead.
“However much I don’t want you to move, I think I really need to stretch out my legs,” she said.
He backed up. “Oh right, sorry. Did I hurt you?”
She chuckled. “No, just I think my muscles are cramping.”
Clumsily tucking himself back into his pants, Ezekiel scrambled around the room, found a blanket and laid it on the floor. “Don’t move.”
“I don’t think I can,” she said, wincing.
When he came back, he swept her into his arms and carried her over to the blanket. After gently setting her down, he helped her button up her dress, and then settled in beside her, holding her close. She sighed into him, and he never thought he’d feel as content as he did right then.
For the moment, all his cares and troubles had vanished. There was only Sophia.
“I think we made a lot of noise,” she said with an apologetic smile.
He chuckled. “We did. I hope a night guard doesn’t rush in thinking something nefarious is going on.”
She laughed, and he pulled her tighter to his chest. Too in love with this moment—with her—he never wanted to let go.
Deep down, he wanted to ask her who she would choose in the end, but part of him didn’t want to know the answer. He just wanted to freeze this moment, and live in it for as long as she let him.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Sophia
When Sophia woke after a few hours of sleep on the floor with Ezekiel, she realized she’d missed her training with Grindel, but she didn’t care. Not even a little. She was so done with all that. No more training with him, no more torture with the headmistress. She was healing all on her own. She wasn’t even certain she was going to return to the cabin. Maybe to retrieve her important things, like her weapons, but there was nothing else there that mattered to her.
Ezekiel roused from sleep a few seconds later and smiled at her.
“I could get used to waking up to your pretty face,” he said. A light she hadn’t seen before danced in his eyes and she smiled in return.
“You wouldn’t say that if you truly saw what I looked like after a long, fitful sleep.” She sat up and stretched. Ezekiel put his hand on her back and gently rubbed his thumb back and forth. His touch was comforting and she leaned into him. She needed it more than she realized.
“Who else knows?” He didn’t
need to elaborate, she knew what he was talking about.
“Andreas does, he found out when we were attacked by grimms in the woods…”
He gave her a look. “Again?”
She shrugged. “But Edric doesn’t know.”
“You have to tell him,” he said.
“I know.” She sighed, not looking forward to the conversation. Out of all three men, she knew Edric would have the hardest time accepting the truth of who and what she was. As the sworn commander of the elite castle guard, it would be his duty to arrest her.
“I’ll send notes to them both and tell them to come here as soon as possible.” He sat up and pressed a kiss to her cheek. “It’ll be easier to tell Edric with support from me and Andreas.”
She eyed him curiously. “When did you all become so chummy?”
“It’s a long story.” He turned away from her, but she caught the sly grin on his face. She hoped he would one day share that story. She had a feeling it would be very entertaining.
When Ezekiel finished writing notes to Edric and Andreas and had sent them off by his personal courier so there would be no chance of them getting intercepted, he brought Sophia some food from the kitchens, and together they sat at his table eating hearty stew in a bread bowl with some wine. She didn’t particularly like the taste but figured she needed the liquid courage to face Edric.
No more than thirty minutes later, Edric pounded at the door, nearly kicking it in. Ezekiel opened it, and Edric stormed in, his face stony, and his brow furrowed. When his gaze flitted over the blanket on the floor where she and Ezekiel had slept, his face hardened even more.
Sophia jumped to her feet as he stomped over to her, a piece of paper clenched in his hand. She wondered if Ezekiel had told him in the note he had sent, although he promised he wouldn’t, or maybe Andreas had beat her to it. Either way he was furious.
