THE WEEK AFTER, the kiss went by fast. Xara’s plan had worked. She got an imprint of the key while Delton was lost in their kiss. The next morning, she’d sent Michael to the blacksmith with Ifer’s message. The blacksmith worked for Ifer and her men would take care of the key’s movement from there. By now, the key would’ve made its way to Inferno City. Osric should’ve been freed last night, but Xara had received no news of it yet.
At dinner, Delton sat facing her, eyeing her carefully as she made plans in her head. Instead of his royal costume, he wore a white shirt and dark trousers. He’d missed quite a few of their meals since the chess game. Since his loss, he had stopped asking about the canal incident. Knowing him, it was disturbing. He was probably hatching another plan to get to Walric.
“Will General Darius be joining us for dinner?” she asked, trying to make small talk.
As if on cue, the door burst open. General Darius entered, followed by Amara. Michael was on their heels. An imperceptible shake of his head, along with downcast eyes, told her that something was amiss.
“Your Majesty.” Amara’s eyes moved between Xara and Delton. They’d never gotten to finish their conversation about her trip to the city. “I’m sorry for interrupting your dinner, but I have important news.”
“Felix sent a missive.” Darius looked at her when he spoke, making discomfort stir in her belly. “Osric has escaped.”
“What!?” Delton stood up, his bellow rattling the dishes on the table. A flutter of triumph rose in her chest. “How is that possible? Nobody can get into my personal prison.”
“Felix went in to feed the prisoner today and the cell was empty. He checked and his key wasn’t stolen, so he didn’t know how they got in.”
“Ifer…” Delton’s voice radiated anger. His fingers reached for his necklace, pulling it out to examine the key. It was there. “How is this possible…? None of the keys have been stolen, yet the prisoner escaped.”
“We don’t know,” Darius interjected. “But Felix believes Osric is headed to Skera. That’s where Prince Walric is.”
Delton’s fist clenched. Xara rejoiced in his frustration. Her plan was in motion. She had been winning a lot these days—first, the chess game, and now this. At this rate, she’d have Escayton back sooner than she expected.
“Felix is worried about a war breaking out. Now that Ifer has his men, nothing is stopping him.” This came from Amara. “I believe it is time for us to change our plans. General Petronilla wrote to me asking for instructions.”
“Go down to Skera and prepare for war, general,” Delton ordered Darius. “We must remain a step ahead of Ifer.”
It was too early for war, but Xara knew that the time for a decisive strike drew closer. Walric and she had discussed this long before Delton had arrived. It was the reason he had left for Skera three months ago. They were supposed to attack when nobody was prepared, but Xara knew Delton was always prepared. She’d have to push back her plans by a few months, even a year, until he gave up on pursuing Ifer. A missive needed to be sent to Walric, informing him of this recent development.
“If I may intervene, Your Majesty,” Amara cut in. “Felix thinks we should prioritize the capture of Prince Walric. With Osric headed north, this might be our last chance to get them both. He has sent our spies after Osric.” Xara didn’t like the sound of that. “If Your Majesty permits, I’d like to join them in Skera.”
“That’s not a bad idea.”
“I’m afraid with both of us gone, there will be nobody to watch you. If Ifer attacks—” Darius said.
“I don’t need to be guarded,” Delton said. “I will join you both in Skera shortly.”
“What!?” Amara, Michael, and Darius exclaimed together.
His dark blue eyes cut to her. “The queen and I will leave for Skera tomorrow.”
Without realizing it, she stood up, offering up an obligatory protest. “It is too dangerous for me to go there.”
She had expected him to say something like this. In fact, she’d counted on it. When she finally won this war, she would fight on the battlefield, pointing her sword at him, not hiding in the shadows. And for that, she needed to be in Skera, riling up the people, not playing princess in the palace.
“I will not stand by idly and lose to Ifer this time,” Delton went on. “General, Amara, leave at once. The queen and I will follow tomorrow morning. Send Felix a missive asking for the King of Terra’s help. We mustn’t let them get away this time.”
He was going all out, surrounding them from all sides. She had expected it.
“Yes, your majesty,” Amara said. “I will make plans for our departure immediately.”
“We must leave too.” Darius turned to Michael, who remained calm. An understanding passed between them and she watched Michael take Darius’ hand, his thumbs rubbing soothing fingers on his wrist. They spoke entire sentences; the two lovers nestled close to each other. At the end, Michael silently nodded. Turning to her, his hand still in Michael’s, he said, “I will see you in Skera, Your Majesty.”
She was going to deliver her message to Walric before they departed. Darius bowed to her before leaving with Michael. Amara followed on his heels, leaving her and Delton alone.
“I will prepare for the journey.” She stood.
“You have eaten nothing,” Delton said. “Sit down and finish your meal.”
His concern would touch her if she weren’t bent on destroying him.
“I don’t think I can eat with the prospect of death hanging over my head.”
“Nobody is going to die,” Delton confidently announced. “Except Ifer.”
Oh, they’d see about that.
NERVOUS ABOUT THE IMPENDING TRIP, Xara gazed at her mother’s portrait in the gallery. She had changed into a loose, gauzy white gown that she wore to sleep. But she couldn’t sleep, so she’d come down to look at paintings. The clock struck midnight a few seconds ago. She had made the arrangements for the trip. All she could do now was wait for a new day to dawn.
After Darius and Michael left, she instructed her maid to pack her things. Xara put her mask and Ifer’s clothes in a secret compartment in her luggage once the maid was done. On her way out, she’d slipped a note into the floor maid’s pocket, hoping she’d deliver it to Walric. Her cousin had planted her at the palace for situations like this. So far, she was proving to be useful. Crossing her fingers, she hoped the maid wouldn’t get caught.
Gold-framed paintings of her ancestors hung all around her. Reflected in the gold was her face—her worried round face with two dark eyes. She refocused her gaze on the painting of the late queen. With her dark eyes, round face, and regal bearing, she looked similar to Xara. Dressed in a yellow silk gown that made her look paler than she was, her mother appeared to be the victim of a tragedy. It was a rather unremarkable portrait, but Xara’s had always been drawn to it.
Footsteps echoed behind her, making Xara turn suddenly. The gilded walls reflected his shadow-like form as he swept in. He came to a stop next to her, glaring at her serene form.
“Aren’t you supposed to be sleeping?” his raspy voice broke the silence.
“I could ask the same of you.” She didn’t glance in his direction, but she felt tension humming in the air. It had been that way since the kiss. Being alone with him reminded her of that night.
“I never sleep,” Delton said. “You know that. Are you nervous about tomorrow’s trip?”
She wondered if he was worried about her feelings on the sudden trip. He’d become more attentive to her ever since their chess game. Was he trying to scope her out? Or was it something else?
“A little. I haven’t been to Skera in a long time.”
“Neither have I. But it’s time,” he said. “After all, it was you who criticized me for neglecting this land. I’ve decided to rid Escayton of its greatest plague. Ifer.”
Of course, he wasn’t worried about her. He was more worried about missing Walric and not being able to capture Ifer. If only he knew who she really was….
“You’re terribly confident,” she tossed out.
“There’s no reason not to be.”
When she turned her head, she noticed he was closer, his fingers lightly brushing against hers. That familiar humming in her blood was back again. All thoughts of the impending battle vanished, replaced by something scarier. She wanted to pull away, but his pinkie finger brushed her burning skin tacitly, the cold metal rings making a shudder run down her arm. Exhaling heavily, Xara turned to her mother’s portrait.
“Who is this?” he asked. His voice sounded foggy.
“My mother.” Her voice resonated in her chest. He watched her mother’s painting, studying the details silently. Her heart thudded throughout, wondering what he thought of her. Not that it mattered.
“I don’t believe I’ve ever met her. Does the painting do her justice?”
“Not really. However, it is the only image I have of her. I look at it when I feel lost. She had such a short and unhappy life. My father never loved her, and she was all alone in this palace.”
She didn’t know why she was telling him that. Except she’d grown comfortable being around Delton. True, all their conversations ended in a fight, but he never stopped her from speaking her mind. In fact, he relied on it.
“How do you know that?” Delton asked, oblivious to her inner musings. “She died when you were a child.”
“The maids talked about it,” Xara said, crossing her hands over her chest. “And then, I saw her.” She exhaled shakily.
“Her?”
“My father’s other daughter.” Delton went still. “He had a child out of wedlock. With a maid, I believe. She was born before me. My elder sister.” Her husband’s eyes fluttered closed. She’d never thought him capable of empathy before, but this affected him as much as it affected her. His clenched fist brushed against her fingers. He was as shocked by her half-sister’s existence as she was. “His extramarital affairs didn’t stop after he got married. Nobody knew about her… my sister…. half-sister….” A tortured expression came over Delton’s face. She hadn’t expected Delton, of all people, to react to her confession so strongly. Instinctively, she wrapped her palm around his fist. His eyes jolted open. Realizing what she’d done, she moved her hand away. “I-I wasn’t supposed to find out either, but I saw her one night. She was leaving the palace after meeting with my father and… she looked like him.” Xara inhaled a lungful of hair. “Just like that, I knew.”
“Xara, you don’t have to—” His palm closed over hers, and she turned to face him. If she didn’t know better, she’d have thought he was comforting her. Half of his face was a shadow, but the other half looked even worse. Never had she seen Delton so affected, so close to losing control. His lower lip trembled, and his eyes unfocused. But she couldn’t stop the flow of her words.
“I went to my room and cried. Not for myself, but for my mother. She spent a life living for others… people who didn’t love her. That night, I came down and looked at this painting. And I swore to myself that I’d never become like her… I’d never marry a man who didn’t love me.” The words were like needles stinging her heart. A lifetime ago, she’d dreamt of love. Look where that had left her. “But I broke that promise to myself. After I’d decided never to live a life for others… never to make myself unhappy by making the wrong choices, I married you.”
A bitter laugh escaped her lips.
This wasn’t where she’d imagined this conversation going. He was the man who had destroyed her dreams. So why was she telling him this?
“Love isn’t all that it’s chalked up to be.” Indigo eyes watched her and within them, she sensed sincerity for the first time, which was absurd. Delton talking about love was akin to a demon preaching the gospel.
“How would you know? You’ve never been in love.”
“No, I haven’t. But there are things one knows from life experience.” She sensed his growing anger…frustration… and something darker… something that disturbed her. It bled out of him in waves. “Love isn’t a fantasy. It’s a nightmare. If you trust the wrong person, they can take everything from you in the blink of an eye.”
“Like you took everything from me.”
It was a low blow, but she said it anyway. His dark eyes turned to her, strangely tortured, as if he were reliving some old memory. Before she could move, strong hands gripped her fragile shoulder, and he pulled her close in a quick, jerky movement. She knew she shouldn’t have pushed him. But she didn’t budge, leaning into his warm touch instead. That touch could kill, but she was immune to it.
“Yes. Like I took everything from you.” His eyes gleamed red with passion. Her lips parted slightly, and she felt his hunger. It was the primal attraction that had implanted itself in her life like something tangible, coloring the air. His fierce expression told her that he wanted to kiss her. To hurt her. To lose himself in her. “And I still want more.”
A fraction of a second passed in silence, both of them staring at each other as if connected by an invisible thread. It was a tiny mercy—an opportunity to move away if she didn’t want what was going to happen.
“You aren’t going to run?” His fingers climbed up her neck, curving around the smooth ivory column. He applied more pressure, but she didn’t flinch. Her stillness was her answer.
Since the kiss, she had expected this; expected more. And he was giving it to her.
He grabbed her by the throat and pressed her body against the cool golden wall. An arm snaked around her waist. And then, his lips came down on hers.
She didn’t even resist this time. From the moment their fingers brushed, she’d known it’d come to this. And she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t looking forward to it. Wasn’t that why she’d said those things to him?
It was a hot, hungry, possessive kiss. None of the gentleness from last night remained.
Her entire body lit up when he claimed her. Delton’s lips took and took. His tongue sought to breach her mouth, to make her his slave. The kiss was demanding. Insistent. Echoing a frustration that mirrored hers. Like he wanted to devour her alive. Like she wanted to burn him to ashes in the flames of her anger. Last night had unleashed something deep inside her and she wanted to explore it. So, she offered no resistance, wanting to forget who they were and what they were doing for the moment.
His tongue speared her mouth. They didn’t taste each other gently or exploringly. Instead, they fought a war with their lips and teeth and tongue, pouring years and years of longing and resentment into one kiss. It was dirty, shocking, and erotic. Raw and honest. Like communicating without words. Like flying without wings. Her body screamed for more, drowning out the voice of her mind. The wrongness of it made it all the more alluring. Her hips ground against him as they fought for control, demanding more from the other. In this sensual battle, they were forced to give it their all.
Delton broke the kiss, peppering her jaw with kisses. His wet tongue left a trail on her skin, making it pebble with goosebumps when the cool wind brushed it.
“Are you not going to tell me to stop?” His voice registered in the distant shores of her conscious mind. Her head said she should stop but the heat pooling between her legs refused to be cowered by reason.
“No.” She didn’t know why she said it. Except she wanted him. Even though she constantly denied it, her body ached for his touch. It had been that way since they’d gotten married. Didn’t he at least owe her physical passion? If he was going to use her, she’d use him to explore her sexuality too.
He smiled as if he’d expected her answer.
“I should’ve kept my distance from you like I did all these years,” he said breathily. His lips trailed down her jaw, kissing the side of her neck. Her fingers were in his hair, guiding him to the juncture between her shoulder and neck. He kissed her hard, lightly biting down on her neck, making her arch off the wall.
Her eyes snapped open, startled by the effect his bite had on her. She felt it all the way to her toes. Her hips lifted, craving more. Even as her mind sought to push him away, her body wanted him closer. “But it’s too late now. I think of you more than I’d like…about all the things that I want to do to you…all the people who’ve been here before me.”
“I want you against my better judgment.” He held her in place, his erection grinding against the juncture of her thighs. Was the moan she heard hers? Running a thumb over her bite, he soothed the spot he’d bitten with his tongue. Oh god. Her body was racked with sensations she’d never felt before. “I want to plunder those bewitching lips until they’re red and swollen and bruised…” He peppered kisses on the slope of her throat and shoulders. “To kiss you here, and here…” He brought them lower, pushing away the fabric covering her breasts, revealing the smooth, curved tops. Moonlight poured over the smooth mounds of pale flesh and she suddenly felt cold. Her nipples hardened under the translucent cotton garment, poking out embarrassingly. When she raised her hands to cover herself, he grabbed her delicate wrist. Her eyes popped open, watching as he took hold of her fingers, guiding them under the lacy v-neck of her nightgown., making her touch herself.
When a finger brushed her nipple, she gasped. It felt so sinful. So wicked. So forbidden.
“And here.” His rasp
Xara had never dared to bring herself pleasure…to explore all the illicit parts of her. But he was forcing her hand, forcing her to get over her inhibitions. Her hand stilled but he controlled them like a puppet master, making her fingers curve to tease a distended nipple repeatedly, rubbing again and again until she heard herself moan.
The throbbing between her legs grew worse and she wondered how it’d feel to touch herself there. His mouth replaced her fingers, sucking her hardened buds through the thin fabric. Sensations swarmed her body and she was no longer in possession of it. When he turned his attention to her other nipple, using her fingers to pinch and tease it, she surrendered.
The neck of her nightgown loosened, allowing him access to her shoulders. Pulling his mouth away from her breasts, he lightly stroked her exposed upper arm. “I’d strip away these sleeves,” His arms slid downward, under her dress. “Burn away the endless layers…until you’re naked, just like that night.” She couldn’t take her eyes off him. The tension between them was real, sucking her in. “I wonder what I’ll find underneath.”
He kissed her shoulders, a relatively harmless gesture. Except, her body tight, flaming body, ached for his touch.
“I’d have you spread out naked before me…god knows I’ve dreamed of it.” He’d dreamed of having her naked? He moved her hand, running a trail over her belly, thighs, and hips until it came to rest between her legs. Her body was growing warmer and tighter with each promise, eager to burst out of its seams. “And when I dip a finger into your sweet cunt, you’ll be soaking wet, taking my finger in without any resistance. First one, then two…”
Xara bit her bottom lip, face flushed crimson. She’d never thought Delton would use those words on her…words she’d only heard sailors and whores curse in. But she liked it. She liked him talking dirty to her. It made her remember that she wasn’t his perfectly bred wife but Ifer, the king of the underworld. That she too was dirty and broken.
“And when you’re aching for more, I’ll make you take this cock inside your slick, tight pussy until you don’t remember anything but the feel of me between your legs. ” Delton closed his hand over hers, cupping the space between her legs. Xara blinked, her vision growing foggy. She wanted to stop imagining but her body wouldn’t listen. “I will fuck you over and over again until you come, calling my name. It won’t be gentle or quick. I won’t stop until I feel you clenching around me. Until you’ve given me all you’ve got…until there is no more pleasure in you to give.” This was far too dangerous. Those midnight eyes bored into her, challenging her to give in to this fatal attraction. “I wonder what you sound like when you scream, Xara.”
Xara’s heartbeat skyrocketed.
God, how she loved the filthy picture he painted.
No, she didn’t want to imagine this…she didn’t want to go down the dangerous path Delton was taking her along. But it was so tempting. After years of not solitude, she longed for a warm touch, an affirmation that she was alive. Because she felt so alone and dead sometimes. He was offering it to her—that validation she so wanted.
He leaned in closer, his breath fanning her lips. He pulled her nightgown up, fisting the white fabric in his large hands. Moonlight shone on her exposed thighs, and she watched his fingers traveling over it. They circled closer and closer to her core, rubbing light, teasing patterns on her inner thigh. She was on the verge of surrendering. His finger was centimeters away from her wet slit—the one that had never been touched before. Dread rose instantly, stifling the attraction. Her body reacted on instinct, her hands pushing him away. He took a step back, surprised by her sudden explosion.
“I’m a virgin.” Her shrill voice echoed in the gallery. She didn’t know why she yelled out her most embarrassing secret, of all things. But the minute she did, he stilled. Delton’s eyes widened. He stepped back without resistance, allowing her to scramble away from under him. She put a safe distance between them, her breathing uneven and her body flushed.
“What?” He sounded stunned. “I…I didn’t know…It doesn’t matter”
Fighting the haze of sexual attraction, she found her voice. “It does to me.” Her body smelled of him, of his kisses, and she suddenly felt shame flood her. “This should never have happened.”
“Why? Because you’re a virgin?”
“No, because you’re the last man I should want. After you rejected me on our wedding night, I couldn’t trust anyone. It…it broke my heart.” She laughed. When he continued to remain silent, she went on in a quieter voice, “God, how foolish can I be? This is why we can never be together. There is too much history…too much hurt…too much pain between us. You don’t have a heart, and mine is bleeding. This is as far as we can go.” She covered herself with her arms, moving back one inch at a time until she was at the gallery’s entrance.
“You knew this would happen when you asked me for a kiss.” His voice echoed.
She did, but she wasn’t going to admit it. Xara took a look at his face—impassive but contemplative—and delivered her final words. “I should never have let you kiss me.”
With that, she fled.
He didn’t follow.
