She was glad he couldn’t see her crooked grin. The Celestials had their fair share of arrogance, she’d say that much.
“Maybe try harder on that mind-shield device,” he said grumpily.
She laughed as he leaned back again, his headthunkingagainst the edge of the tub.
“Regardless,” Tarian went on, “a god offered me to him. You don’t turn down a god’s favor.”
“That god is fucking him over, though.”
“Only if I can get my shit together, and let’s be honest, the verdict is still out on that.”
She traced her fingers over his knees. “What’s the ancestral magic of sevens?”
He rested his hands on her tummy, stroking softly, then took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “The result of bad decision-making and a troubled past.”
“Sounds like what I’m doing with you.”
He leaned forward to kiss her bare shoulder. “My father is a seventh son. I am his seventh son.”
“What’s the significance of that?”
“It is said that a seventh son of a seventh son, or a sixth daughter of a sixth daughter, will double in power. They had many more sons than daughters, so when they got close to seven sons, my father pushed my mother to keep going. He wanted to be the first Celestial king to create the Ancestral Magic of Sevens. But my mother’s body was starting to fail. By the timeshe had my brother, the sixth boy, she’d had nine children and lost two. She pleaded to give up. Technically, fae live forever, and one would think they could procreate forever, but babies are hard on a female’s body, as you probably know. It was becoming dangerous for her. The healers advised against trying for more. He would not be deterred. So she agreed to have one more, come what may. If she produced a daughter instead of a son, she granted him to try with another, something that must’ve killed her to say. It is said she loved him greatly. She did not share. She did have one more son, though. Me. But it was her last. She died in childbirth, and I nearly went with her. I got the Sevens Magic and then some. Some healers think she imparted her dying breath unto me—a boost to my already boosted power.”
“So you were mighty.”
“I was. And naturally gifted in my physical abilities, as well. I set hard to training, at first because the kingdom was watching. I wanted to earn my place in the family—the place my mother had died to give me. Then the court started to grow wary of my constantly growing power. They started to mistrust me. So I trained to keep busy. I spent all my time training—hiding, really. I made myself more than just my magic and stayed out of the court’s eyes while I did it.”
He twisted to grab a washcloth and a chunk of soap from the stand. His arms came around her, and he rubbed the cloth against the soap before sweeping it over the dips and curves of her body.
She closed her eyes as he washed her, letting her head fall back to rest on his collarbone, feeling his touch as it moved along her skin. “In turn, you scared the court more because of it.”
He soaked the cloth in the water, washing it of soap, before dripping it over her skin. “Yeah. I learned that too late.”
“Don’t we always?” she whispered, angling her head to the side so he could run his lips across her shoulder and up her neck. “Did your father blame you for your mother?”
“No. He blamed himself. That’s why the court is failing. He is wallowing in misery. He has lost control, and the vultures are circling.”
She lay harder against him, reaching back to loop her arms around his neck. She thought about all he’d said. What a tragic past. He’d caused a rift just by being born, through no fault of his own. Because yes, with that level of power, physically and magically, it was no wonder they wanted to get rid of him, especially with the throne in jeopardy. He was powerful beyond compare, decorated, tight friends with soldiers, and a natural heir. He would be the number one contender to take over for his father. No surprise that he’d ended up here.
“It would’ve been helpful if I’d known you then so you could’ve filled me inbeforeI ended up in this situation,” he murmured, tracing endless loops across her pebbled skin, where the warm water ended and the cool air of the bathroom began.
She breathed out, falling into the feel of his touch tightening her core.
“I’ve learned all this in the last handful of years, like you,” she said. His fingers moved up and down her arms and across her stomach, as though he were memorizing every inch of her skin. “In your situation, I likely would’ve ended up in the same place. Well…I kinda did, didn’t I? With godly magic that will get me killed. A perfect pair.”
His hands drifted up her stomach. The mood deepened, their movements slowing.
“Yes, a perfect pair,” he said, and she could hear the conviction in his voice. The truth. He wasn’t lying. He wasn’t being sarcastic. He actually thought they were perfect together.
Strangely, surprisingly…she agreed.
She lowered her arms, letting her hands fall. They landed on his, and she directed them farther upward. His palms moved over her breasts.
He breathed out heavily. His thumbs stroked across her budded nipples. He kissed her cheek, then waited while she turned so he could kiss her lips.
“All I thought about today was getting back to you,” he admitted, his tone deep and filled with reverence. “I was finishing what had to be done so I could see your beautiful face again. So I could taste your perfect lips. I haven’t known much of heaven in my life, but lying here with you, feeling the closeness of your flesh, it was worth the deal I made. It is worth all the hardships I’ve endured. If I only know this moment, it will have all been worth it.”
She deepened the kiss, desperate for him. Needing to feel him deeper. “Make love to me, Tarian.”
