Loren appeared at the carriage door, accepting his congratulations from the nearest Lords and Ladies, before pulling himself in across from her and closing the door. The voices muffled, and a moment later, the horses at the front started forward. Ariadne jostled in her seat, her knees knocking against Loren’s.
Heart pounding, she swallowed hard. This was her first moment alone with him since the night he nearly broke her wrist. She glanced at the scars on her arm again, taking comfort in the sight of the remnant of Azriel’s punctures.
“I must apologize,” Loren said, leaning forward and taking her bared wrist in his.
She sucked in a sharp breath. Was he truly going to say he wassorryfor hurting her? Did he believe that would make right all his transgressions against her? Perhaps he already thought himself forgiven and merely wished to voice the words to solidify it.
“Your Majesty?” Her voice was more hoarse than she anticipated. Husky, almost. Gods, he would likely take that the wrong way.
“I lost control of myself.”
She bit back her sneer. Here it was. Instead, she said, “Of what do you speak?”
“I meant to rid you of those nasty scars.” Loren brushed his fingers over those given to her by Azriel, a crease forming between his brows. “But in my excitement, I missed my mark.”
It took every ounce of self-control for Ariadne to not reel back her fist and slam it into his smug face. Particularly as he looked back up at her with heady eyes, giving her arm a gentle but insistent tug to bring her closer. She allowed the minor shift, leaning forward to be a breath from him.
“Never fear, my pet,” he murmured, drawing the backs of his fingers down her jaw. “We shall have plenty of time to correct my mistake. I will make you forget ever being touched by another.”
Were she almost any other woman of the Society, his words would have thrilled her. Had this been her marriage as planned all those months ago, they would have done just that. With those few words, Ariadne would have climbed her way onto his lap and given herself to him as the High Priestess demanded.
Now his declaration only made her skin crawl and his gentle touch had her fighting back the urge to recoil from him.
“Are you safe?” Almandine’s voice made Ariadne jump.
“My pet?” Loren frowned again.
“Apologies, Your Majesty,” Ariadne breathed, doing her best to relax back into his hand before responding silently to her bondheart, “Yes.The ceremony is done.Not much longer now.”
Humming with satisfaction, Loren splayed his fingers across her jaw and slid his hand back behind her neck. Another more assertive tug had Ariadne pulling back enough to avoid his mouth on hers.
“My makeup,” she choked out, latching on to the first excuse she could summon. Burying her now-shaking hands into her skirts, Ariadne detached herself from Loren’s hold and shifted back in her seat again. He tracked her with an icy gaze. “Camillaworked so hard to make it perfect… I would hate for it to be ruined before morning.”
Loren’s lips curled, but rather than take the very obvious hint that she did not want to be touched just yet, he laid his palms on her knees. Sliding his hands up her thighs, he brought the skirt higher and higher. “We would not want that, now would we, my pet?”
Ariadne swallowed back a scream and resisted the urge to look at the carriage door. The latch was within reach. All it would take was a slip of her hand, and she could tumble out into the mud.
But then what? She was in the middle of Laeton at midnight, wearing a wedding dress and heeled shoes. With no cloak and no way of knowing which direction to run, Loren would track her down and drag her back to him with far less kindness than when he found her on the side of the highway.
Not for the first time, Ariadne hated herself and her brash decision-making. She should have let Edira go speak with the soldiers. Pol could have hidden the entrance to the tomb beyond the first cave. They could have waited to get the book until after they defeated Loren.
Except…they could not wait. Not if they planned to march on Laeton. Her family home could very well be lost amidst the fires of battle, and then what? They would never be able to uphold the promise she had given to the dhemon clans. This could very well be their only chance at getting the ritual.
“Loren, please,” she whispered, pushing her dress back down to hide her very exposed thighs. He had already succeeded in seeing more of her body than she ever wished to grant him. “I want to wait until we are home.”
Eyes narrowing, Loren pushed back. “You cannot expect me to wait all that time to get just atasteof you.”
“Please,” she repeated, firmer this time. “The anticipation is what makes it so great.”
The corner of his mouth ticked up, and this time, he took her skirt nearly to her hips. “Mmm, my pet. You know how much I love to hear you beg. Perhaps I should keep going just to hear you utter that pretty word a little more.”
“Loren…”
That awful smirk broadened, a wicked gleam in his sapphire eyes. “I like the way you say my name. I want to hear you scream it.”
Oh, she would scream, alright.
“What is wrong?” This time it was Brutis whose deep voice cut through her mind, sharp and demanding. Almandine must have let her panic slip through the vinculum where he could feel it. “Do we need to come now?”
