Languid and pliable, Ellowyn slowly eased my softening cock from her pussy, a rush of cum following. I winced as I watched the white liquid drip down her thighs and onto the floor. Ellowyn simply hummed before grabbing a discarded tunic and wiping herself clean.
Silence hung between us in the aftermath, heavy and charged, only punctuated by the rustle of clothing and slight noises of our breathing.
My skin itched with the need to speak, my heart beating an irregular rhythm as I waited for Ellowyn’s judgement. Despite my earlier words of possession, ultimately itwasher decision. I would bow down to whatever she dictated.
“What’re you thinking?” I asked, nearly wincing at the volume despite its quiet timbre. Ellowyn froze for a moment, pants nearly buttoned, before finishing dressing. She sighed with her whole body, eyes closed and face pointed at the ceiling.
“I’d like to say that everything is fixed and normal, but it’s not,” she said, voice thick with a myriad of emotions. “I love you, Torin. That has not, nor will it ever, change.” She turned glinting steel eyes to me.
I released a breath I didn’t know I was holding as her words washed me in relief.
“But that doesn’t mean all is forgiven,” she finished softly, hands reaching behind to gather her long, golden strands into a loose bun.
“What is it you need from me, Ellowyn? I will do anything,” I pleaded, at risk of sounding desperate. “I want to marry you, Ellowyn. For our engagement at your Awakening to hold firm and true. You’ve been all I wanted since the moment I met you.”
Ellowyn studied her fingers for a moment before finding my gaze once more. My whole body vibrated; she had the power to end everything with just one word. In my heart of hearts, IknewEllowyn felt the same as me. But recent circumstances could have swayed her in other directions—ones that didn’t involve me.
My heart twisted, readying for the final blow that never came.
“Time, Torin. I need time.” Ellowyn’s features softened with the admission. “We’ve known each other for nearly two years, but spent a few months together, and only recently. Beyond that, Alois just died. I cannot jump from one marriage into the arms of another, no matter how desperately I desire that. The optics for Elyria, for the legitimacy of our claims, would not be held in high regard.”
I grunted and ran a hand through my unruly hair, unable to disagree with her logic.
“Give me time, Torin. Have those deep conversations with me. Let us spend hours and days together learning how each other functions outside of the pressure of Vespera”—she crossed the room in two strides to wrap her arms around my middle—“but don’t give up on me.” Ellowyn whispered the last part into my chest. Surely, she could hear thethunkof my heart and knew that it beat only for her.
“Never,” I whispered against her head, pressing a kiss into her curls while my fingers wove through the loose ponytail. If time is what she wanted, what she needed, then I would grant it. But I meant what I said—I meant for her to be my wife, sooner rather than later. “Never.”
Chapter Thirteen
Lex
Iwoke to the unmistakable feeling of being watched, and not just by one pair of eyes. No, this crawling sensation on the back of my neck indicated that at least three people were gazing at my unconscious and prone form. I felt down the Bond, pleased and relieved that at least one of the watchers was Ilyas. A second dimmer, but no less pleasant pulse indicated that a second pair of eyes most definitely belonged to the beautiful ebony-skinned warrior with the braids that tinkled whenever she walked.
Folami. My True Pain Vessel.
I felt the corners of my mouth lift into what I was sure was a seductive grin. Ilyas’ faint answering chuff was all the confirmation I needed that maybe it wasn’t as charming as intended.
“He’s awake!” an unknown voice whispered, the unmistakable small sweetness of a child.
A child? Does Folami have a child?
My heart beat an anxious rhythm as I woke, both excited and apprehensive at what would await me once my eyes were fully open.
I blinked slowly—once, then twice—as the blurry edges of a well-appointed room came into view. The walls were plastered in an intricately designed wallpaper a macabre shade of red, while gold filigree separated the wall from the equally gold ceiling.
The whole thing was jarring, the bright colors causing my nose to wrinkle. After so many years accustomed to the infinite obsidian of the Academy, the red and gold were overwhelming.
“Who decorated this place?” I muttered quietly, earning a cough of humor from more than one person in the room.
At least this bed is comfortable.
Huge and comfortable. It was by far the largest mattress I’d ever slept on, easily accommodating three adults in rather compromising positions. The only other place I’d seen beds this size was in the orgy rooms at Le Petite Mort.
“Please tell me I’m not at a brothel.” I closed my eyes on a horrified whisper.
“You’re not!” The exuberant voice of a child as they vaulted onto the bed caused my eyes to fly open as I was jostled about. Instinctively, my arms opened and reached for where a girl was climbing up the edge of the bed. She grabbed my hand with hers, pulling herself fully onto the mattress before crawling closer.
“Itanya—” I heard Faylinn groan, but her rebuke was completely ignored.
