She grins cheekily, running her tongue over her teeth the same way she’d run it over me. I’d intended to wait until we reached the springs, but whatever flimsy tethers to decency I possess unravel entirely every time I’m near Willa, as proven by our earlier foray and by my readiness now. A word, a glance, a damn breath, and I’m at her mercy.
Before I can decide whether to lunge at her once more, Willa slows her pace and reaches out to touch one of the thousands of night flowers carpeting the forest floor around us. Instantly, the blooms curl toward her fingers, straining for their own piece of her power in the same way everything on the island does. In the past few weeks, as Letum has tied her more firmly to its magic,Willa has tied her heart to the kingdom and been rewarded for her love.
With each tender touch, each wondered sigh, a bit more of the land of dreams shines through the growing fractures in the land of death.
Affection rises in me as her fingers brush the petals, and for the first time in a century, the sight of living beauty doesn’t raise a wave of shame and hatred in me. It doesn’t matter that I will never be able to touch them when I have the pleasure of watching her do it. Who cares about feeling the silk of flowers, when I’m the only one with the pleasure of feeling the silk of Willa’s skin?
I brush aside the thick curtain of foliage, and usher Willa through the opening. Her gasp of pleasure threads through me as she takes in the private lagoon. Heated by the same volcanic activity as the walls of the Crocodile, steam curls off the dark water in thick spirals, providing even more privacy than the black rock walls and thick forest.
“This is gorgeous!” she cries, her happiness tugging at my heart.
The infernal organ of mine is perhaps not as decayed as I’d once thought, as it is rarely still these days, always lurching and skittering and expanding. Every small thing Willa does seems to burrow inside it like dynamite, waiting for the day it’ll all explode. But even that hint of uncertainty, of dread, can’t temper how much I love to see her happiness. She’s had so little of it in her life, I’ve dedicated the last few weeks to giving her every bit I can.
Willa flings herself over the slippery rock ledge without a care for the deep red dress she’s chosen for today, soaking the fabric as she kneels down to touch the water. She dips her fingers in with a sigh of pleasure, before shooting me an adorably suspicious look.
“You didn’t tell me to bring a swimsuit.”
I merely raise an eyebrow. “Your sudden modesty is unappreciated in present company, Darling. There’s no part of you I haven’t already memorized.” I pause to shoot her a wicked smirk. “Or had on my tongue.”
Willa grins. “You’re incorrigible.”
“Entirely.”
She splashes me with a laugh, before rising from her crouch and shimmying out of her clothes. With a wink, she tosses the wadded fabric of her dress at my face. I don’t bother to catch it, instead taking the moment to breathe in the scent of her lingering on the fabric like an absolute lunatic.
Her curves slip beneath the water far too quickly, but her moan of pleasure makes up for the disappointment, snaring me as surely as if she’s hooked me straight through the spine. I shed my clothes, trying to ignore the crunch of rotted plants beneath my bare feet, as I climb into the hot spring.
The heat of the water is a divine balm for my aching muscles. The short hike took far more out of me than it should have, and my joints feel, at once, too knotted to move, and too loose to hold up the heft of my body. Both my pain and my pleasure have increased tenfold in the few weeks since Willa opened the wards, warring for control of my body with an exhausting vehemence. And I’ve done nothing to help the pain, having forgone rest in favor of spending my time soaking up every bit of Willa I can.
Teaching her piano, watching her and Sam paint horribly, hiking through the forests, tangling together beneath the sheets. I’ve pushed my body far beyond its limits, but as Willa surfaces a few feet from me, long lashes beaded with water and skin glistening in the starlight, I can’t bring myself to regret it even while the pain grinds relentlessly through me.
That’s always the problem with Willa and I, though, isn’t it?
I can’t bring myself to regretanyof it, no matter how much my loose morality dictates I should. I’ve never thought of myself as a decent man, but I thought I was a good king. One that loved his kingdom and his people, that would do what was necessary to protect it from my mistakes. And instead, I’d nearly damned us all once more for the woman in front of me.
And here, weeks later, I contain no remorse. I feel the regret lingering on the edges of my sanity, waiting in the dark to overcome me, but my selfishness is far too great to give it any weight. My want has sanded down the edges of the holes inside me until there’s nothing left for regret to hold onto. Whenever it reaches up to try, rotted vines pulling tighter and tighter, Willa looks at me likethatand it slips back down from the depths it came. Buried beneath the weight of my want.
The irony isn’t lost on me that my worst qualities are both what drew Willa to me—and what will ultimately rip her away.
She swims toward me, her hair fanning out behind her in sodden ropes. Without thought, I wrap my fingers around her waist and lift her against me. Threading her arms around my neck, and tightening her legs around my waist, she leans her forehead against mine as she declares, “I bet you take all your captives here, don’t you, Corpsey?”
The absurdity of her statement releases a surprised laugh from my mouth.
“It’s pretty freaking romantic.” She tips her head back with a satiated sigh, gazing at the lush curtain of flowers, the warm, deep pool and the dark sky above it. “I bet they wouldn’t even have minded getting a little decomposed for a chance at this.” She wiggles her eyebrows suggestively at the death ribbons swirling a few inches above our heads.
A full-bodied guffaw barrels out of me. “You’re the only person I’ve ever met who could makethatsound seductive.”
“One of my many talents,” Willa hums in agreement, shifting her hips slightly against mine.
She’s slippery and warm; soft curves against sharply carved muscles. I’ve lived three lifetimes, and nothing in this world or another has ever come close to the way she feels against me. It’s unadulterated decadence, and for an absurd moment, I feel like crying at the multitude of sensation.
I’ve spent so long with pain, sometimes the pleasure is nearly unbearable. It is too consuming, too encompassing—it heats my skin and rearranges the synapses of my brain—a wave threatening to pull me under.
“I don’t bring anyone to this place,” I admit suddenly. I’m not even sure why, other than it feels important Willa know that as she’s trusted me, I trust her. She gives, so I give too, a game we’ve been playing before either of us realized it. I gave her my chronic pain; she gave me her nightmares. I gave her my magic; she gave me hers. I gave her my kingdom; she gave me her freedom.
Everything has a cost, but with Willa, I don’t mind paying.
“No one?”
