“They tried to take me with them. She tried,” Veyka said softly.
She—the succubus.
Of course I’d known that. I’d felt her slipping away from me, pulled by the darkness in her own soul toward that land of eternal night. We had not spoken of it, not until now. If Veyka wanted to, I would. I would relive every moment of that trauma for her sake. And if she preferred to let it die in memories, I was fine with that, too.
Veyka’s breath tickled the inside of my arm where she’d rested her head.
“You saved me,” she breathed.
“You saved yourself, Veyka,” I said into her hair.We saved each other.
She pinched my side. “Take the compliment, Brutal Prince.”
I pressed my lips to hers. “Whatever you command, my queen.”
91
VEYKA
Cyara insisted on resuming her position as handmaiden in addition to Knight of the Round Table. Ridiculous. The female never got enough sleep. Her wings were always the first giveaway. They twitched more when she was tired, and on that day in particular they’d been in near constant motion.
“I can do this myself,” I insisted. “Tonight, I demand you go straight to your own bed. Arran can see to helping me untangle this confection.”
Cyara lifted a copper brow in obvious doubt. “You must actually untangle it and also brush it, Veyka.”
I frowned at the complex braid she’d fashioned. It still only hung to my breasts. I’d never grow it as long as my waist again. But with the number of pearls and diamonds and amethyst strands she’d braided into it, Arran would have a busy night.
Perhaps I’d grant him a kiss for each strand of jewels he managed to untangle. I shivered at the delicious prospect.
“Your eyes are glowing,” Cyara commented as she added the final piece of my ensemble—the crown.
A new crown, forged from the melted down gold of the old, studded with a thousand gems of amorite given by the survivors—elemental, terrestrial, human, faerie, Aquarian. I tilted my chin from side to side in the mirror, admiring the way the amorite caught the light and gleamed bright with rainbows against the pure white of my hair.
“Yours will be soon enough,” I shot back, unraveling to stand and shaking out the folds of the gown I’d chosen.
Cyara looked away, walking to the corner of the room and fidgeting unnecessarily with the tea set to avoid my gaze. She wouldn’t be able to hide once she was in the same room with Osheen. Those two could not keep their glowing eyes to themselves. Though, as far as I could tell, they hadn’t actually acted on those desires. Fools.
The door to the antechamber opened and my mate stepped in. Clothed in deep green shot with gold, he looked every inch the High King he was. I had not been able to convince him to wear a matching crown. Though I’d certainly keep trying. I had at least a thousand years to win that argument.
His eyes locked on mine. “Cancel the whole thing.”
I bit my lip. “That good?”
I twirled slowly, because I knewpreciselyhow good I looked in the gown. The silver collar at my neck held in place miles of frothy purple fabric that faded to pink and then pale orange when it reached the floor. My shoulders were bare to just above my elbow, where engraved cuffs held the draping sleeves in place. But the real wonder was the back—or the lack of it. Every inch of skin, from my shoulders down to less than an inch above the curve of my bottom, was exposed to view.
“I said,cancel it,” Arran growled, stepping into my space. He caught my chin and tipped it up, holding me in place.
“Did you hear that, Cyara?”
“Heard and choosing to ignore it, Your Majesties,” she said, sweeping past and pulling the double doors fully open. “It is time to go.”
Arran growled again, but this time it was just for me.
I promise you can take it off of me later, I soothed the beast.
Another growl.
I laughed and took his arm, leading him out through the antechamber and the labyrinth of corridors and courtyards. The entire palace gleamed, the goldstone brighter than ever, the gems embedded in the pillars and arches polished. But nowhere shone more brightly than the throne room where we’d been mated.
