“Plus,” Domanikk adds, “she didn’t even get a decent wedding night. We can’t let the Princess die without a decent fuck.”
Reth laughs at that. Heat floods my face, burning from my neck to my hairline.
“If we do this, Dom, then you’re responsible for her. I don’t want her running loose in Heartwood. And keep her out of my way.”
Domanikk’s smirk slides towards me, slow and deliberate. I want to recoil, to put distance between us, but my body locks in place—frozen under the weight of what his words promise. I’m not going to die today.
Reth turns back to the gathered Equitae and, with a last sneer towards me, walks away.
“Anyone touches her while she’s here, I’ll cut your fucking hands off and make you wear them as a necklace.”
Chapter Twenty
Alaya
I awake with my eyes still closed, the events from yesterday replaying like a nightmare behind my eyelids. Grief for Heller sits sharp in my chest; every time I remember that glazed look of death in his once-sparkling eyes, fresh pain brings tears to my face.
Last night’s celebration—sparked by the deaths of the Earthbound Fae and King Malaxor’s decision not to attack Heartwood—quickly spiralled into chaos: shouting, writhing bodies, and far too much Fae Wine. Domanikk kept me close all evening, pressing drinks into my hands I was too numb to refuse.
Now my head pounds from the aftereffects as my eyes flutter open.
I remember Domanikk bringing me back to this tent and telling me to sleep. The space is sparse: a simple stone fireplace at the far end, a large wooden chest and a small wooden table with two chairs. But the low bed dominates everything—no proper frame, just an enormous nest of blankets and pillows sprawled across the floor.
I gasp when my hand brushes flesh as I move, and I see Domanikk sprawled beside me, his leg draped over mine. He’s naked, lying on his front with his long black hair splayed across his muscled back. Heat rises to my face as my eyes trace down his back, over the dip before his toned waist and across hissmooth rear. His tanned skin draws me like a magnet, and before I can stop myself, my hand reaches out, tracing a finger down his back.
What is wrong with me?!
I pull back as if burned. He moves beneath my touch and rolls onto his side, propping his head on his crooked arm.
My cheeks flush and I look away, refusing to acknowledge his nakedness. Instead, I meet his yellow eyes, which stare at me with a lazy smirk on his lips.
“Good morning, beautiful,” he drawls, reaching to brush a stray curl from my face. I flinch, and his smile widens.
“We’re well past that, darling. You didn’t notice we shared a bed naked? No need to be coy with me.”
“Don’t touch me,” I reply, my temper rising.
He laughs, rolls over and rises to stretch, his muscles bunching and relaxing beneath his skin.
“That may be a problem for what I’ve planned today. First thing: a bath. I like things dirty, but I prefer you smell only of me.”
A bath and clothes sound like a dream. The dirt and sweat coating my body feels like a second skin.
He leaves and returns within ten minutes carrying a tray towards the bed. “Eat something before we bathe.” He places bread, cheese, fruit, and a small jug of milk beside me, smiling down at me.
The sight of food almost makes me miss the ‘we bathe,’ and I give him a sideways look of confusion as I start eating. He either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care.
“Thanks for this,” I say, my voice coming out in a delicate, melodic trill. I pour every ounce of feigned sweetness into the words, praying he won’t notice the slight tremor in my hands or the way I am holding my breath.
Two Equitae enter, one carrying a large wooden tub, the other two steaming buckets of water. While I eat, they fill the tub until water glints like a mirror near the top. Tendrils of steam rise lazily, and I almost groan at the thought of slipping my cold, dirty body into that warmth.
Domanikk walks over and pours a silvery liquid from a clay jug into the bath, swirling it with his hand.
“Come, my love.” He gestures towards the tub, and I don’t hesitate.
I flinch a little as I rise—the aches in my body remind me sharply of where I am. Domanikk’s eyes rove over my nakedness with lustful appreciation as I walk towards him, but I’m not embarrassed. Four days without clothes and nearly losing my life have made me indifferent to such things.
He holds out his hand, helping me step into the tub. As I sink into the warmth, the heat caressing my aches like Kiernan’s touch, I let out a soft moan. I fully submerge, eyes closed, luxuriating in the silent underwater world. Tiny bubbles tickle my skin as the water swirls away the layers of fear and despair accumulated since my capture.
