“It was of great importance,” Blayne said, cutting me off. “Samkiel wields Oblivion still. Umemri reports that he summoned the blade from nothing.”
My brows furrowed as the words sank in, and then a slow smile formed on my lips. Hope suddenly flared in my chest at a new prospect. Of course, he would. It explained why the ring did not work for me. It held no actual power because it was merely a conduit. He was Oblivion. This just made everything so much easier.
“I’d know that wicked smile anywhere.” Blayne slid his hand up my body from my abdomen, slow and precise. He gripped the collar of my top and ripped it open, exposing my breasts. Cool air curled around my nipples, and they pebbled, going painfully tight. I moaned low as his fingers flicked over the aching peaks before drifting higher and wrapping around my throat. His other hand slid under my nightgown and curved over my hip before dipping lower.
“You will need a public display. Show the city, your court, and the council who and what you are,” he said, his lips ghosting over mine as my hand fell to his wrist, directing his fingers as he worked my body. “Remind them why the blood of warriors freezes when your name is mentioned. Why legions answer to you and why your name will be whispered with awe through the realms, giving truth to the legend you are.”
“I’ll need to,” I brushed my nose against his as I panted, “tarnish his image permanently.”
“Worry not, Nismera. You’ve been overstretched today, and you’re far too hard on yourself,” he said, and my body bent to his will. He did not kiss me even as my other hand rose and tangled in the hair at the base of his neck. No, his breath teased my lips as his fingers worked between my thighs. My body thrummed, but he pulled his hand back before I could reach the pinnacle. The sound of him unbuttoning his pants had me leaning down and grabbing the hem of my gown. I only got it over my hips before he grabbed me again and pressed an enormous hand between my shoulders, bending me over. He positioned himself behind me, slamming into me with a brutal thrust. My eyes fell shut, savoring the burn as pleasure ripped through me.
No one came to the west wing. It was my own personal space, and only those I invited were permitted here. So, I could conspire and hate and unfold here, but above all, I could scream as loud as I wanted, and that’s just what I did.
His hand cupped my throat, his fingers forcing my head up as he fucked me from behind.
“Open your eyes,” he said against my ear, his hips thrusting. “Look at him while I fuck you,” he demanded.
My eyes snapped open, and I faced the statue of Nydmjir. This was the only time he had power over me, the only time I ever allowed it.
“Look at him and know he could never give you what you needed. Not as I.” His words wove with the pleasure threading through my body, sending me closer to the edge of bliss. My gasp mixed with his low moan as he moved just right, hitting a spot deep inside of me that made my vision blur. “Nismera, you and I are conquerors. It is what we were made for and what we will always do. We are not made for failure. Our victory is written in the stars.”
“Yes.” The word came as a low moan, and I pushed back against him, forcing my body to take him deeper.
His hand gripped my jaw tight enough to bruise, tipping my head back to meet his gaze. “Say it,” he demanded.
“We will conquer it all.”
69
CAMILLA
Water swished in the small tub as I scrubbed the dirt from my arms. The bathroom was tiny, not that I was complaining. This was the first time we’d been in a place we felt comfortable and safe in a long time. Between the dirt and blood, the water had already turned a light brown. My head still ached, but apparently, we’d both be fine. We just needed a few days to rest. My magic didn’t even hum as I heard the door to the bedroom open and close, but my heart did.
Vincent had come back. We were sharing a room as the city of Sumaril was already near capacity. Vincent had told me to take the bathroom first, and he’d get us food, but I wasn’t hungry. My stomach was uneasy, both from the loss of the medallion and how much power I had used, but mostly because I’d never cared for someone so much that I would damn the world for them.
I knew anyone who hadn’t been through what we had these last few months probably saw it as irrational, but how could I explain to them what I felt for him? We had survived together in a palace that was nothing more than a prison. He cared for me as I did him. We were not two sides of the same coin, but the same side. I hadn’t realized how alone I felt all those years until I met Vincent. It was as if some part of him had awakened something in me. He had been forced into doing horrible things because he was bound to a powerful being, and so had I. He was an enemy of the realms, but he brought me more comfort and made me feel safer than a thousand soldiers.
And he loved me.
Someone had laid clothes out on the bed for us. The room they had given us once belonged to a couple who had long since passed. I didn’t ask too many questions, and the shadow assassins who led us to our room were not open to conversation. They just told us to rest, and we would be summoned when their queen wished to talk. I was too tired to care or insist.
I raised my hands out of the water, small droplets running along my skin. No scars marred my wrists where my hands had been severed. My magic had healed me, but I could feel how drained I was. I turned my palm up and tried to summon a ball of magic. Emerald green light rose but fizzled like a candle being blown out.
Pushing myself out of the tub, I grabbed a small towel from the worn bars by the sink and dried myself off. I slipped into the baggy pants, rolling the waistband three times before they would stay up. The tank top left my midriff bare and pulled tight across my breasts.
I stood in front of the mirror and studied my reflection, raising my hand to slide my fingers lightly over the hollows of my cheeks and the dark circles beneath my eyes. I hadn’t realized how much weight I had lost since we had escaped the palace. Food wasn’t a big priority when you were trying to stay alive, but it was also the stress that was wearing me out. Even now, every bump or knock made me startle, worried that Nismera had found us again. I wondered if I’d ever feel safe anywhere again, but I truly doubted it.
With a soft sigh, I turned away and stepped out of the bathroom. Vincent sat on the edge of the four-poster bed with his elbows braced on his knees and his hands clasped between his spread thighs. Gray lounge pants and a heavy sweatshirt clung to him, stretched tight over his heavily muscled form. Apparently, we had the opposite problem when it came to how our borrowed clothes fit.
Light spilled in from the window, casting a soothing blue over the simple room. It wasn’t natural as the cavern system was deep underground, but they had found a way to simulate both moonlight and sunlight, keeping to the rhythm of night and day. The aroma of the food he’d brought filled the small room, and I saw he had placed the tray on the dresser that flanked the door. It and the bed were pretty much all this room had space for.
Vincent studied me, but his eyes weren’t filled with the heated hunger I usually saw in them. Instead, concern clouded his gaze. “How are you feeling? Still dizzy?”
“No, that wore off. Now I’m mostly just tired,” I said, curling a strand of damp hair behind my ear. “What about you?”
“Tired,” he said with a half-shrug.
“Did they say anything to you when you went to get food?” I asked, curious about our kidnappers.
