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If we couldn’t speak to each other, if I couldn’t hear her voice and comfort her, at least I could do this. At least I could control my emotions, and pass her my love and desire, not just sadness and anguish. I conjured up every moment I’d been in her bed, the sounds she made, the feeling of her dripping wet cunt around my cock. I palmed myself through my pants, imagining it was her hand.
The heat in my chest swelled and grew, grazing across my ribcage and coursing through my bones. I closed my eyes and saw her hair tumbling down her back as she rode me, feeling her come on me again and again. I rolled onto my stomach and ground into the mattress, the soft haze of her love enveloping me. I wondered where she was, what she was doing. Was she in her own bed, her fingers buried deep inside her as she thought of me, wishing it was my cock instead? Was she in the bath, writhing in the warm water as her hands moved over her rosy nipples, her mouth falling open in a moan?
I imagined taking one of those nipples in my mouth, hearing her gasp as I sucked. Her hand wrapped around me, each tug of her hand along my length drawing me closer and closer to climax as she begged me to fuck her. I remembered rolling her on to her knees, fucking her from behind, my hands raking through her hair. Her shuddering breath as she tried to stay quiet, her lips quivering as she kissed me.
With a grunt I shoved my hand into my pants, pumping myself furiously as I felt something sharp and aching burst within me. “That’s my girl,” I growled to the empty room. “Come for me.”
That soft, sweet inferno consumed me as I released onto the bed with a strangled moan. My cock twitched in my hand, my shoulders heaving as I tried to catch my breath. Her contentment was warm on my shoulders, like sunlight. I smiled to myself, burying my face in my pillow, imagining it was her - her breasts, her thighs, the soft rose-scented crook of her neck.
Thunder rumbled outside, and I turned my head to look at the darkened sky. Tonight was the engagement party, which I, for some unfathomable reason, was expected to attend. I dimmed the thoughts of what Theron was playing at quickly. I wanted to hold on to this,this, the warmth and contentment and softness that buzzed in my chest. I imagined her under my arm, her fingers tracing tiny circles on my skin as she shuddered against me, as her body came down from the peak we had just reached together.
Once my breathing had steadied and my skin had cooled, I tore the soiled blanket from the bed, discarding it in the corner. I filled the tub, stripping off my clothes and sinking into the steaming water. I lay my head back, closing my eyes as thunder rumbled loudly overhead.
My mind wandered to what Regan had said to me. I still didn’t trust him. For all I knew it was yet another trap, yet another device Theron had engaged to torture me, to give me hope only to have it dashed again. But something in his tone, the urgency in his eyes, allowed me to feel the tiniest sliver of anticipation.
Then the realization that she and I were meant to be together, had been meant for each other all these years bore down on me. Why had my father insisted I marry Celeste, if he knew of the prophecy? My eyes fluttered open. Elara had been bonded to Keir. If she and I had been meant for each other, destined for each other… I chewed my lip as lightning flashed. Something the priestess had said ghosted at the periphery of my mind, but I couldn’t quite grasp it.
This didn’t make any sense. None of it did. The brutish part of me wondered why my father hadn’t simply seized Elara from Peyrus, taken her to Isambard if her father had been so resistant. But that would have been wrong. That would have made us no better than Theron declaring war to try and claim her. But the thought wouldn’t let me go, and I wished I could ask my father, have some sort of explanation for what he had done.
I did know now, however, that there was something else at play. Something had been done, and my life, and Elara’s, had been meddled with. I just hoped we’d both survive Theron’s games so we could find out why.
* * *
I was escorted by several guards to the banquet hall, where a lively crowd was gathered. Music played and wine was flowing. Everyone was dressed in white and gold, as was custom for announcements like this. Candles lit every corner of the room, and the windows were lit up by lightning sporadically, as the storm continued to circle outside.
Once in the hall, the guards fell away, leaving me to move through the crowd. I hesitated for a moment, wondering why Theron did not see me as a threat in this room. But after the altercation in the throne room two days previously I didn’t want to cause any more trouble. If there was indeed a plan in place, I had to keep calm and wait for the signal, like Regan had said.
I moved towards the thrones, where Theron was sitting and talking animatedly, his body turned towards… Towards her.
She looked like a goddess. Her pale hair hung to her waist in luscious curls, a golden diadem crowning her head. She wore a flowing white gown that exposed her shoulders, and I had to suck in a steadying breath as I imagined tracing my lips over that skin.
Gods she was beautiful.
Her face bore an expression of indifference as Theron talked to her, but then her head turned, her blue eyes landing on me. A small smile spread across her face. Theron followed her gaze, and threw his hands up as he smiled widely.
“Rook! You made it!” He said, rising to his feet, approaching me and clapping me on the shoulder. He looked me up and down approvingly. “You look so well, my friend. Does he not, dear one?” He looked up at Elara, who gave a small nod.
“He does.” Elara’s face flickered with uncertainty before the mask was back. She looked at Theron haughtily as she rose to her feet. “I’m thirsty, I need some wine.”
“But of course.” Theron took her hand as she passed him, raising it to his lips. “Why doesn’t Rook accompany you?”
I swallowed down my sigh of frustration. His games were simply exhausting. He wanted to push us together only to pull us apart like his own sick puppet show. It didn’t matter that I’d tried to kill him barely a week ago, it didn’t matter that two days ago Elara had tried to beat the life out of him - he saw neither of us as a threat.
I didn’t betray my emotions, simply took Elara’s hand in mine, tucking it under my arm and giving Theron a warm smile.
“I’ll look after her, don’t worry,” I told him. I steered her across the room, towards the windows. I felt her slump a little, melting into me. I leaned down to her ear. “This afternoon was nice.”
Her eyes flicked up to meet mine, and her lips parted in shuddering breath. “It was.”
“What were you thinking of?” I asked, clutching her hand tighter.
“That afternoon, by the stream,” she murmured, bringing her face closer to mine. “And you?”
“Fucking you from behind in your bed,” I whispered in her ear, and a small moan broke from her.
“This is torture.” She drew back from me with a sigh.
“I’m sorry,” I said, the sadness on her face tearing me apart. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”
