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I slide my hands under his fencing shirt, peeling off the sleeves and leaning back to revel in his inked chest. I trace the lines of his tattoos – stories of myth and legend that inspire his music. The butterflies around his neck shift as he breathes hard, staring up at me as if he can’t believe I’m real.
He’s so beautiful.
He watches as I shove off my own clothes and climb back on top of him. The bed creaks. I shove his trousers and boxers over his hips. His cock springs free, that glorious piercing glinting in the dim light. I grip the brass headboard and grind my hips down onto him, sheathing him inside me. This room and these memories have undone him, and I know what he needs to put himself back together, to remind him that he’s Gabriel fucking Fallen and he doesn’t need to hide.
He stares up at me as I slam myself down on him – his eyes wide open, worshipful. My heart swells in my throat. In this place where he first sang the stars, Gabriel has given me more of himself than I ever could have hoped. The melody of Liam’s song swells through my head as I grind against him – our song now, a new chapter. A future.
A strangled sound escapes his mouth as he bucks his hips to meet me, thrust for thrust. His piercing rubs me in the perfect place, and even though this is about him and what he needs, I feel an orgasm building fast inside me. His eyes remain locked on mine, those pagan fires burning bright.
“I love you,” he whispers, before his mouth quirks and his body tightens.
I love you.
I love you.
My throat closes. The last person who said those words to me was my father. Loving me gets people killed, and Gabriel is too much, too precious, too broken already for the world I’m dragging him into. But I’m lost in his eyes, and there’s no way I can lie to him. I’m weak. I can’t let him go.
My nails dig into his shoulders as the orgasm slams into me. “I love you, too.”
Is it the truth? I’ve lived with lies so long I’m not sure I can tell anymore. But the words fall from my tongue as my body comes undone and it feels as though the whole universe has shifted. As though Gabe and I have created something new.
We lay in the bed together until the sunset burns orange flame and stars pirouette across the skylight. Gabriel plays more of Liam’s songs on the whistle, his eyes never leaving my face. We hold each other and talk and kiss until I can barely keep my eyes open.
As I step back down the ladder to head to my actual bed, I notice Gabriel slip the whistle into his pocket.
The next night, the four of us eat dinner in a lofty medieval hall, surrounded by tapestries of epic battles woven with gold thread. I don’t know where the Duke and Duchess or Cleo are and I don’t ask – they’re probably hanging upside down in a cave or sleeping in their coffins. Gabriel sits at one end of the table and I sit at the other. We fire peas at each other through our drinking straws.
“You can’t do that in here!” Eli hisses from his seat in the middle of the table. “What if you ruin one of the tapestries?”
Gabriel grins as he gestures to the figure of a farmer in the corner of the tapestry, holding a sickle and staring out at a blank square of spun thread. “Behold the field upon which I grow my fucks. Gaze upon it and see that it is barren.”
I laugh so much I snort a pea up my nose.
After dinner, Eli retreats to his room to call Livvie. He wants to check on the animals and see if she’ll give us any insight about Nero’s next movements. I’m nervous as fuck about him taking that job, and I don’t know if I trust Nero’s daughter, but I trust Eli. While he’s occupied, Gabriel invites me and Noah for a walk around the estate.
It’s freezing out, and our boots crunch on fresh-fallen snow. But the air is still and the sky a deep azure, and as we descend the lawn and look back at the castle, my chest flutters a little. In Gabriel’s world, it’s hard not to believe in fairy tales. If only the castle weren’t ruled by the evil king.
If only this place had a queen to set things right.
At the end of the lawn, we take a rambling path through the woods, emerging in a small clearing where a shimmering disc of water reflects the sky. In the center of the manmade pond is a small Romanesque building with wide steps leading to a portico with six slender columns, and a triangular pediment above featuring sculptures of the divine triad and seven planets.
“It’s a folly.” Gabriel rolls his eyes. “The Victorians were mad about them. My great, great, great grandfather had it built to impress his friends. It’s modeled after—”
“—the temple to Bel at Palmyra,” I say, spying the distinctive Near-Eastern carvings over the pediment. “Although it looks as though your grandfather has replaced depictions of the god with himself.”
“But of course.” Even in the dim light, I catch the twinkle in Gabriel’s eye. “Didn’t you know we Blackwich men ARE gods?”
I roll my eyes. Noah snorts. He picks up a smooth stone and skips it across the water. “I used to think you had the perfect life. I even hated you a little bit. It’s actually a relief knowing your dad’s a complete bastard—”
“—wanker,” Gabriel corrects. “He’s a wanker. You’re on British soil now – speak the Queen’s English. And don’t worry about it. I hate myself a little bit, too.”
A thought occurs to me. “You know even if you became an earl—”
“—duke. I’d be a duke.” Gabriel gives an exasperated sigh. “You’re all such heathens.”
“—fine, if you became duke and took your inheritance, it doesn’t mean you have to give up the things you love. Your dad won’t be able to stop you from six feet under. You could be the rockstar duke. In fact, it might even help your career. Imagine running your own open-air festival out on the lawn. We could have VIP parties at this temple, turn it into a place of sin and debauchery.”
Gabriel moves to the edge of the lake and stares out across the crystal waters at something only he can see. “Sure, I could. But it feels too much like giving in to them. This place… it sucks all the life from you.”
