Bride of the Traitor: A Prophecy of Sisters Novel

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Bride of the Traitor: A Prophecy of Sisters Novel Page 11

by Faiman, Hayley


  Jerking my chin, I do not give him the satisfaction of an emotional response to his words. Instead, I nod once. “Those are your thoughts and feelings, cousin, and I respect them. We leave at first light. Bury your cocks one last time before we go, you know how the celibates don’t allow women,” I announce as I turn to head out of the room.

  “Elias,” Merek calls.

  Stopping, I turn to him. “I hope you know what you’ve done by marrying her and what you’re doing by leaving her in a strange land all on her own.”

  My lips twitch into a small smile. “She is not alone, for she will be accompanied by one of the men I trust the most in my life. My very own blood and my brother in battle, Merek.”

  He dips his chin slightly, his gaze never leaving mine. “I have no patience for women, cousin. You know this.”

  “You will have it with her, or you have my permission to keep her locked in her chamber if she becomes too cumbersome.”

  Rowan and Henry chuckle, obviously finding my words funny. Merek doesn’t, his eyes are focused on mine and he knows that I am being completely serious. He nods once, and with that, I leave the men to consummate my wedding night.

  I won’t see her again for at least two months, probably more like four. So I don’t plan on sleeping tonight.

  SYBILLA

  My stomach rolls. I’m nervous. I don’t know why, it’s not like I haven’t already slept with Elias, but this feels really really different.

  Ellyn, Katrina, and Jasmine help me out of my wedding garb. They quickly help me bathe, something that I never thought I would appreciate, but since I can’t stop shaking, I welcome their help tonight.

  Now I’m standing with my hair down my back, in a long white nightgown, a little fancier than the ones that I’ve been wearing, made of silk and a light pink color instead of the cotton and white.

  My personal fireplace roars, and I wish I would have eaten some food instead of drinking far too much wine, especially as my head begins to spin a bit as I pace.

  Something doesn’t feel right.

  In fact, for my wedding night, even though the guy is an ass, something feels really bad. Like an impending doom that I don’t understand.

  Maybe those witches have it all wrong. Maybe something is going to happen, with or without my sisters. I think that I should leave, run and never look back. The flight instinct in me is strong.

  Fighting doesn’t seem like the right thing to do. What would I be fighting for anyway? A guy who married me, fucks me, but otherwise doesn’t seem that into me? No thanks.

  “You’ll create a hole in the floor if you continue to walk the same path over and over, milady,” a voice rumbles.

  Turning my head, my mouth goes dry at the sight before me. Elias is standing at the door that connects our rooms wearing nothing but his tights and they’re unlaced at the sides, tempting every muscle inside of my body to launch myself at him.

  “Where’ve you been?” I ask.

  He shakes his head once, taking a step back, but doesn’t turn around. “You don’t ask those questions, Sybilla.”

  “I don’t?”

  I watch as he presses his lips together, inhaling through his nose, then letting the breath out through his mouth slowly. “No, sweeting, you don’t. Come to bed,” he gently demands.

  My body sways at the way his voice rumbles, bouncing off of the stone walls around us. Leaving my warm room, I follow behind him into his much cooler bedroom. I notice that his fireplace looks as if he’s just started it, the flame not nearly as high or orange as mine, nor as roaring.

  “What do I get to ask? I thought I could ask anything when it was just the two of us in this bedroom?”

  He stops at the side of the bed, his back straight. I itch to run my nails down his scarred skin. I ache to kiss each of his past wounds, to ask him what they’re from, to hear all of his stories.

  It has to be so much better than the only story that I have for the only scar that I possess. I fell off of my bike when I was young and my knee caught a rock, causing a cut and eventually a faint silvered scar.

  “Nothing,” he purrs.

  “Nothing?”

  Elias shakes his head once. “Nothing, Sybilla. You are a queen, but I am the King. You answer to me, you ask nothing of me. You may ask questions, but that does not ensure you will receive answers.”

  Narrowing my eyes at him, I wonder if this is the life that I was always meant to lead. I’ve never been this subservient before. Never bowed to any man in my life, never needed to.

  Though, I admit, none of the men I’ve ever dated before have been this alpha male or fucking kings. So, there is that.

  But this man—he’s insufferable.

  He is cocky. He is beautiful. He is demanding. He is kind. He is nothing I ever wanted and everything that I’ve always craved.

  “I will always ask you questions, Elias.”

  He nods. “I have figured as much and I will answer them, if I am able, but typically I will not. Take off your chemise. Bare yourself for your husband, wife.”

  Pressing my lips together, a shiver runs over my body at his low command. I don’t know why he does this to me, but he does, every time. I want nothing more than to please him when we’re together like this, then as soon as he’s gone, I feel anger and annoyance with the man.

  Reaching for the ribbon at my throat, I tug on it, untying it and placing my arms at my sides as the fabric falls off of my shoulders then pools at my feet.

  Elias’ steel-blue eyes darken to indigo immediately. He doesn’t move, the backs of his knees against the bed, his eyes focused on me and nowhere else.

  “Come to me, Sybilla,” he roughly demands.

  Licking my lips, I step out of the nightgown and close the short distance between us. I expect him to grab me, to wrap his arms around me and kiss me, but he does neither of those things. Instead, he reaches out, placing his palm between my breasts, his eyes never leaving mine.

  “You’re the queen of Bunafi now. You may not know exactly what that means, but in time, you will learn to understand that you are the most powerful woman in this country. That does not mean that you hold an ounce of power over me, Sybilla,” he announces—the ass.

  “I didn’t realize you knew my thoughts and that suddenly, in this new strange world, that I’ve apparently decided to wield the powers that I so obviously do not hold over you, Elias,” I snap.

  He laughs softly, his breath fanning my face. I try to ignore the feeling, but my nipples pebble with my failure. His hand doesn’t move, even as his eyes flick down to my breasts before they lift back to meet my own.

  “Watch yourself, wife,” he warns. “Your duties are simple. Present yourself as a poised queen when you are out of these chambers, at all times. Cornwall will help you with anything else that you need to do, otherwise, your life will be complete luxury.”

  “What if I don’t want luxury?”

  “You mean to be a peasant?” he asks, arching a brow. “Work from dawn to dusk for barely enough food to feed yourself? No fine clothes, no jewels, no warm comfortable bed?”

  “You think I’m insulting you because I’m not sure if I want to sit around on my ass all day?” I ask.

  His lips twitch. “It would be an insult. It is part of being a queen, Sybilla.”

  “What happens when I am in these chambers?” I chance asking, though I’m not sure that I want the answer.

  When his lips turn up into a full-on shit-eating grin, I know without a doubt that I don’t want to hear what is about to leave his lips. I am arrested by the indigo blue in his eyes, though, and I couldn’t leave, even if I wanted to.

  “In these chambers, you become my subject. You are anything but queenly. You’ll do as I say, the way I say it and you’ll do it with a smile.”

  Narrowing my gaze at him, I shake my head once, reaching for his wrist to pull him off of me. Wrapping my fingers around his wrist, I try to do just that, when he shakes his head once and beats me to it, yanki
ng his arm back and my body with it. Falling forward, I’m unable to brace myself as he falls backward, me on top of him.

  “You’re not being fair, you’re demanding things of me that no woman should ever have to subject herself to, Elias,” I breathe.

  Elias lifts his head, his lips touching mine before he speaks. “I never said I was fair, Sybilla. I am your king and you will obey me, in all things.”

  “I’m also your wife, I have a voice, Elias,” I say, attempting to sound firm, but failing miserably and sounding breathy.

  His mouth brushes mine, his tongue peeking out to taste my lips which causes me to shiver, again, in his arms.

  “Yes, your voice is beautiful when you’re crying my name.”

  I open my mouth in surprise, but nothing comes out because Elias’ tongue fills it. Then talking is over, as he silences me with his sensual kisses, sending my body into complete overdrive with need.

  The wine mixed with desire for him, officially takes over, and I’m ashamed to admit, that I do not act queenly with him, just as he predicted.

  Chapter Fourteen

  ELIAS

  Wrapping my hand around the back of her neck, my other grips her hip as I sink deep inside of her from behind. She lets out a breath, mixed with a moan.

  Grunting, I pull almost completely out of her before I slam back inside. She’s warm and wet, her body so pliant that I wonder how I survived this world without her in my bed until now, for I did not know pleasure until I had her beneath me.

  “Touch yourself,” I demand.

  She doesn’t hesitate, she is not shy like the others. Her hand immediately slips beneath her hips and I feel her fingers graze my balls when I sink myself deep inside of her. Then, she separates her fingers and I feel them on either side of my cock as I pump in and out of her.

  “Sybilla,” I groan. “Do you feel that, sweeting?” I ask.

  She hums, her entire body relaxed as she takes me, takes what I have to give her. She only takes what I allow her to, and only from me.

  “Tell me, Sybilla. Tell me if you feel that.”

  “You stretch me, Elias. You fit me so perfectly, and you stretch me just to your desire.”

  Lowering my head, I sink my teeth into the back of her shoulder, biting her hard enough to leave a mark, but not so hard as to draw blood. Placing my lips against her ear, I continue to slam against her, feeling her queynte flutter around me as she climbs toward her release.

  “There is only me for you, Sybilla. You only take your king, yes?”

  “Yes,” she breathes. “Only you, Elias.”

  “Only me, what?”

  She lifts her hips, arching her back more, her body trembling as her fingers begin to work between her legs, playing with that sweet little nub that will assuredly send her over the edge shortly.

  “I only take my king inside of me, only you, Elias.”

  “Right you do, Sybilla.”

  Rearing back, I tighten my grip on her neck as I drive into her over and over, the only sounds in the room are our labored breaths and my skin slapping against hers. That is, until her body stills and her cries of ecstasy fill the room.

  Slamming into her a few more times, my hips thrust before I freeze, my release filling her as a groan escapes my lips. I stay planted inside of her, my chest resting against her back as I catch my breath.

  “My Queen,” I exhale against her ear.

  “Yes, My King?” She laughs softly.

  “You are a formidable match. I do enjoy this aspect of our marriage and I have a feeling that this feeling will not fade overly quickly.”

  She stills beneath me, her soft pliant body almost as hard as stone. Shifting off of her, I roll onto my back and throw my arm over my eyes, still inhaling and exhaling deeply. “You didn’t just say that,” she hisses.

  Turning to her, I remove my arm and notice that her face is red with anger as she stares down at me. She’s sitting up, her hair tumbled around her, covering her breasts from my view. She looks beautiful in her anger, stunning actually.

  “Say what?”

  She shakes her head once. “That we’re compatible in bed, but that it will eventually end.”

  “Does it not in your world? Do couples always burn with desire as they do in the beginning of their coupling?”

  Sybilla presses her lips together, her eyes searching mine and I know that she is truly thinking about my question. I also know that I am right in my assumption when she doesn’t answer immediately.

  Then something that I cannot read crosses her face, and I have the urge to know what she’s thinking. She reaches forward, her fingertips touching my scar along my eye, as she seems compelled to do quite often for some reason.

  “I’ve never been married, Elias. But, obviously I was not a blushing virgin when we met. I can say, that while in the beginning, it seems that new relationships are full of passion and lots of sex. I like to think that as a couple grows together, a different kind of passion consumes them.

  “My parents have been married for thirty-five years and they still hold hands. My father still stops what he’s doing when my mother enters the room and he watches her adoringly. So, maybe they don’t screw like rabbits, but they have a deep passion that has grown between them over the years.”

  Her words, from what I could understand of them, are beautiful. Aleida was correct in her assessment when she said that Sybilla was kindhearted and felt deeply. Lifting my hand, I wrap my fingers around the side of her neck and squeeze before I run my thumb along her plump bottom lip.

  “The more you show me, Sybilla, the more I wonder how you ended up in my bed. Then again, the more I learn about you, the more I realize that perhaps this was exactly where you were meant to be, sweeting.”

  She leans against my palm, closing her eyes as she sighs heavily. I may be keeping her to ensure the safety of my people, my country, and my crown. To ensure that the prophecy does not come to fruition, but what builds inside of me has naught to do with any of that.

  What builds inside of me is simply because of how she makes me feel, as a man. That terrifies me. I’ve never felt for a woman before, and in only a few days with Sybilla, I feel too much.

  This time away from her will be good. I need the distance, and I need to put distance between us. She is nothing but the queen to my king and the vessel for my heirs. I need to remember that.

  “Time for sleep,” I murmur.

  She curls against my side, her naked body pressing against mine, her thigh hitching over mine as she lays her head on my chest with a heavy breath.

  “Just to say, I wouldn’t mind if you had indoor plumbing in this castle. That would be pretty sweet,” she sighs.

  “I know not of what you’re referring to, sweeting.”

  With a hum, she curls deeper against my side, as if she is trying to crawl inside of my body. Closing my eyes, I realize that I like her this close.

  I need to leave.

  Wrapping my arms around her body, I pull her against me as she tells me her fantastical story about what plumbing entails.

  I need to get away from her.

  I’m falling.

  Too fast, too deeply.

  SYBILLA

  I wake with a moan. Elias has his mouth between my legs, his tongue working me—like magic. In fact, I think the man holds some kind of magic. He has stamina like I’ve never experienced before from any of my lovers, not even when we were teenagers.

  Sliding my hand down, I sift my fingers through the strands of his hair and hold on, arching my back and rolling my hips. “Yes,” I breathe.

  Looking down, I watch as he eats me. His eyes lift to meet mine and I whimper at the glittery black orbs that meet my own gaze. He flicks my clit, over and over, his eyes rendering mine hostage until I come, hard and fast.

  Lifting his face from between my legs, he grins down at me, his smile staying planted in place as he shifts above me. My breath hitches as he sinks inside of me.

  Lifting my legs, I
press my shins against his ribcage as he sinks farther down, his face just inches from my own.

  “Good morning, My King,” I breathe, lifting my hips to meet his long, languid strokes.

  His lips twitch before he touches his mouth to mine. I can taste myself on him, but I don’t mind, it’s sexy as sin. He swallows my whimpers, my moans, and my cries as his hips move. He feels amazing, like he has every single time.

  Wrapping my arms around him, I scratch my nails down his back, my body climbing higher and higher, teetering on the edge. Elias grinds against my clit on a downstroke and my head flies back against the pillow as I let out a gasp.

  My entire body freezes beneath him and I come, it washes over me like warm sunlight after a storm.

  He doesn’t allow me to bask in the glow, instead, he loses control and I watch, speechless, as he roars with his own release. It’s beautiful. Everything about Elias is beautiful. He may not think that we will work out, but I know without a doubt that we will fall in love, I can feel it deep in my bones.

  This is the man that was singly made for me and I for him. I don’t know how I ended up in this magical place, but I do know that Elias is the reason, and I will stay here for him, even if I’m given an opportunity to leave.

  Elias’ eyes are focused on mine. He watches me for a silent moment, then his eyes shift from black to steel blue almost instantly before he grunts, pulls out of me, and rolls over. Something has changed, I can feel it as an uneasy feeling slides over my skin.

  “Elias?” I call out.

  He sits on the edge of the bed, his back to me, then looks over his shoulder. “Yes, Sybilla?” he asks, almost woodenly.

  “What’s wrong?” I whisper.

  He shakes his head once before he stands to his feet. My stomach clenches, too nervous to even enjoy his spectacularly muscular ass. He spins around, his eyes on mine and they’re telling me something, but judging by the storm clouds in them, I’m not sure that I want to know.

 

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