Page 73

I could fool myself as long as my eyes were closed and the ragged breathing was my own. But when the Prince whispered in my ear, the illusion was shattered. “Will you do the honor of coming to my chambers with me, my lady?”

Chapter 28

Iopened my eyes and watched the stars twinkling in his endless universe of a gaze.

There would be no turning back if I nodded. There would be no turning back if I denied him. The indecision was nibbling tiny circles around the inner lining of my brain. I had never been an overly sexual creature, but The Raven had unlocked something in me. He had made me feel and yearn for things I had never wanted. He wouldn’t touch me. Couldn’t touch me, so he said. Brittle Spear could.

I churned the decision over and over and settled on Rule #7: Commit to the bit. If they were going to treat me like a whore, I was going to be the best whore that ever whored.

A sharp, crisp nod was given to Ard Tiarna Brittle Spear, and his face broke into a smile of pure delight. Soft hands reached for the straps of the bridle to unhook it, but The Raven swatted them away, his hand coming to rest on my shoulder again. “Under my terms, Brittle Spear. Not yours. Swear it.”

Something twitched at the edges of Ard Tiarna Brittle Spear’s face, like the tiniest edge of a wig curling up and escaping the confines of its glue. “I, Ard Tiarna Brittle Spear, lord and master of the Fómhar hereby swear to you, Raven of the Dawn, disgraced Ard Tiarna of the Árus Láigh that my tryst with The Golden Pearl will be on your terms assuming those terms are not detrimental to my health and safety. Satisfied with my oath?”

The Raven was silent for a long while, as I traced Brittle Spear’s face, trying to find that singular anomaly. Chasing that thing that seemed off and out of place. I wanted to hunt it down and find where it had come from. I wanted to follow its threads back to its root and interrogate it until I was satisfied. But whatever it was was gone, folded under the cover of a soft yet mildly frustrated Princely demeanor.

“Satisfied. The bridle stays on. And I am in the room. I need not touch, but I am in the room. She is my charge, and I will not let her be far from me again.”

With every word, his grip on my shoulder grew stronger until it was painful, pulling at the almost healed cuts in my back.

“My dear Captain of the Guard, had I known that these were the games you indulged in, I’d have invited you to my quarters a long time ago. I had the impression that you were a sexless Fae. There are even rumors in some courts that you swore your celibacy as a sacrifice for the crimes you committed against the House of Magic.”

Brittle Spear liked to talk, and I liked to listen to him. The Raven was far from sexless, but if he had sworn to their gods he would not partake in the delights of the flesh as punishment for whatever happened at the House of Magic, which would explain why he couldn’t touch me.

The Raven grunted at this, rolling his eyes, as if overly bored of rumors.

I squirreled that piece of information into the back of my brain to pick at later.

The Raven squeezed my shoulder and pressed into the muscles. I hadn’t ever seen or felt The Raven reluctant, but the slight tremor in his muscles felt anxious about this.

“Fine, yes. As long as my lady Pearl agrees to this.” Brittle Spear’s eyes were once again on me and smoldering with desire.

I nodded my ascent, doubt, and indecision roiling within me, even though I would push through this.

Even though I wanted this.

Anxiety whirled within me, hand in hand with elated anticipation. They danced a vicious battle so close to a lover’s embrace that it was indistinguishable.

The Ard Tiarna rose, letting his hands run up my cloak-covered thighs, tucking one under my knees and one behind my back, before tipping me backward into his arms and up from the chair. “I must say, my lady, I am disappointed that I cannot take the bridle from you, as I would very much like to feel your lips on mine. I would lose myself in the taste of them and will have to survive on your flavor from another source.”

He was walking away with me, the leash draping behind us like a tail, as The Raven followed like a dark storm cloud, his eyes never leaving me.

I waited for my heart to want to meet the same beat as his like it had when The Raven carried me, but it did not. Not until my eyes connected with The Raven, gloomy and disgruntled, that it reacted and, once more, began to pound in my throat.

“I am not a brutal lover, my lady. But I am thorough. If I do not please, you will need to find some way to tell me,” Brittle Spear whispered against my ear. He set me down on a soft, luxurious bed crafted to look like an oak tree, with its boughs floating up into the ceiling and its leaves falling in suspended sheets.

The Raven closed the doors behind us and watched me as he unbuckled his leather chest plate and set it aside with his sword. I noticed the dangle of brass stars and wondered when he had strung them onto his sword and why. “She likes brutal.”

Brittle Spear pulled my attention back to him with a careful pull of his knuckle across my chin and smiled indulgently. “Is that true, my lady Pearl? You like brutal?”

I tilted my head to him and shrugged.

“Hmm, I will endeavor to be as brutal as I am comfortable with. It is not my usual fare, though.” His fingers were delicately working down the buttons of the cloak, one by one, liberating them from their loops and revealing more and more of my golden cast pearl skin. When he had finally reached my midsection, he pushed the cloak from my shoulders and stood back, watching me as my nipples peaked in the chill air. “My gods, you are divinity made flesh.”

The Raven’s eyes were on my skin. I could feel them scouring every inch of revealed naked flesh like a hot brand rolling over the delicate flesh he had savaged so easily with the very knife he was playing with. At least the rounded pommel and the slight fleck of golden milk still caught in the braid on the handle looked like it was.

Soft fingers trailed along my collar bone and caressed my shoulder, straining against the bonds that held them back. “These will have to go,” he said idly to no one in particular as he traced the length of my arm to toy with each one of my fingers.

His fingers felt like silk on the rough velvet of my skin, and I closed my eyes, letting myself enjoy the gentle touch in contrast to the brutality I had savored with The Raven.