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He drops to his knees and bows his head.
Oh my fates.
He thrusts his hands up and offers me a long, narrow velvet jewelry box.
I stand there like a statue until D’Artaron looks up, uncertainty in his gaze. I’ve never seen him uncertain. “Will you not accept my gift?” he asks, swallowing, looking at me as if…as if I hold his heart in my hands. He loves me. He really loves me, and now he’s coming to terms with it.
I accept his gift and open it. Inside is a necklace with a pendant. A tiny glass sword piercing an emerald-green heart. It’s both beautiful and frightening, just like the male who gave it to me. I lift my hair. “I will wear it always.”
Claudette rushes over and fastens it behind my neck while D’Artaron’s still on his knees, his head still, bowed.
I offer him my hand, but he doesn’t take it. Rather, he looks up. “It is for all the spans that loving me has caused your heart pain.”
Oh no, I’ll cry if I say something, so I nod and press my hand over my mouth.
“You must know being apart from you feels like a dagger in my chest too.”
I’m crying now.
“You are headstrong and daring, and at the same time, a kind and thoughtful female, which makes you a fine queen. I would humbly ask if you would allow me to court you.”
I wipe my tears and smile. “You’re a little late for courting. There’s only a few spans left of the season.”
“I’m not talking about the season.” He gets to his feet and takes both my hands in his. He’s not wearing gloves, and his touch melts me. I’m weak at the knees.
He brings my hands to his lips. “I’m aware the season is over in a few spans. I’m aware of all the fleeting seasons that have passed. I’m not here for that. I never was. I’m here because I want to court you for the rest of my life. You are the one for me. Chloe, you are my queen.”
38
CHLOE
D’Artaron wipes my tears with his thumbs, then looks somewhere above and behind me. He tugs my left wing, then my right one, and they flare out like eager puppy ears at the sight of bacon.
The liquid heat that’s churned inside my lower belly during the entire season drops down like a ball and floods my channel, spilling down my legs. Thankfully, I’m standing in a long gown, and it’ll hide the puddle I’m sure my heat will soon make on the stone.
When D’Artaron wiggles his nose and his eyelids drop slightly, the heat of embarrassment flushes my face. Red patches form on my chest.
“You’ve waited for me,” he purrs like a smug, big cat.
I nod.
“I will make it worth your while.”
“Yes.” I nod vehemently. “Yes, you should make it up to me. Immediately. I don’t like waiting. You can’t keep your queen waiting.” I grab his hand and start dragging him toward my chambers. The courtiers giggle and blush as I pass them, almost ordering them to get out of my way.
When I reach my chambers, D’Artaron’s magic flings open the doors, and as we pass the foyer, the birds start chirping. The parrot D’Artaron made friends with when he first arrived shouts after him. No way am I stopping for a bird.
My bedroom door opens and closes. When I face him alone, for some reason, I lose my courage. I stand there staring at him, taking in all that he is. And he is a beautiful male. Stunning, really, and I’ve never been more grateful that his oath of service to the Summer king also made him commit to chastity.
D’Artaron takes the initiative. He cups my face and kisses me, thrusting his tongue into my mouth and moving it in a way that seduces me into surrendering to whatever he wants from me. My skirt rips, and I hear it hitting the floor, leaving me in my corset.
He fists my underpants and rips them off with his hand, then walks forward so that I have no choice but to walk backward until my thighs hit the edge of the tall bed. Palms slap my behind, and he lifts me then throws me onto the bed. I expect him to crawl over me, but he remains standing, watching me.
At first, I’m shy and unsure of myself, but if there’s one thing D’Artaron has done for me, it’s show me that he finds me attractive. The way he looks at me now is the same way he looked at me when I was inside that tub in the tower. It seems like a century ago that he held me captive there and watched me from the window, wearing his black-on-black uniform, wrapped in all his mighty dominance.
Back then, I dared to let him look. I tempted him because I saw something in his gaze. I understand now what that was. He found me attractive. He appreciates my body. My appearance pleases him.
And so I let him look. I spread my legs and cup my breasts. “All that you see is yours, D’Artaron. I’ve always been yours for the taking. Whenever, however you want to have me.”
