Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 100363 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 502(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100363 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 502(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
“Oh, yes, Guardian,” I whisper, and hope that he hears me. “Fuck me. Fuck me.”
My mind fills with a fantasy of the door slamming open, Luthian striding in and replacing the glass cock with its living counterpart. I want it so badly that tears fill my eyes. I pound the phallus into me, my arm aching, the stone buzzing.
“Fuck me, Guardian! Make me yours!” I urge.
But I am still alone when a fourth, a fifth wrack my trembling limbs.
“Please!” I cry out, my ass lifting off the bed as I fuck myself relentlessly. “Please!”
My juices coat my fist; it’s difficult to keep hold of the glass. Come to me. Come inside of me. We both want it.
But when my final climax is wrenched from my exhausted, sweating body, he still does not appear. A burst of wetness bathes my wrist and I scream out his name. Not “Guardian,” but “Luthian!”
The flames in the fireplace leap, and the hearth cannot contain them. They burn silvery blue, scorching the ceiling, and extinguish on an icy wind.
Once again, he leaves me alone and weeping for him.
Chapter Sixteen
I wake early to pack my things, only to find almost everything has been packed away during the night. My comb and pretty hair ornaments remain out, as well as my wardrobe book. I open it eagerly to decide on a dress for my court debut.
I’ve settled on a few options when the memory of last night intrudes. Will my Guardian be cross with me? I used his name when he’s told me not to, and names are powerful to the fae. I can’t even use the excuse that I was insensate with pleasure—although I was—because he’s trained me better than that. Even in my most passionate throes, I would not forget myself that way, and he knows it.
If he is angry, there isn’t anything I can do now. I hum to myself as I turn the pages and settle on a dress that fits his instructions, exactly. The night-blue velvet appears on my body like ink the moment I press the pin through the parchment. Its long sleeves nearly sweep the ground, and wide panniers give the skirt a shape that no one could consider revealing, but the low scoop of the neck and the under-bust corset beneath expose the tops of my breasts and a hint of rosy nipple.
Winking diamonds and glittering gold set a field of stars across the night sky of fabric. I look myself over in the mirror, quite pleased with my selection, and with Sarta’s handiwork.
“Stunning.”
I turn at Luthian’s voice. If he is angry with me, he doesn’t show it. He beams with pride.
Suddenly, ridiculously bashful, I flush and look down at the dress. “I wasn’t certain of the coloring, but—”
“Nonsense. You’d look beautiful in any color.” He tilts his head. “Your hair... I think...”
With a wave of his hand, my copper ringlets are braided in a crown about my head, with a few tendrils loose to brush my shoulders.
“We don’t wish to reveal too much,” he reminds me. “Come to him like this, and the king will be driven wild. He’ll want to see all this magnificence undone.”
“Thank you, Guardian.” The name is strange on my tongue, after last night.
There is a shift in his eyes, the fastest flash of silver, gone almost before it began.
He was watching. He heard.
I glance to the fireplace, the scorch marks that stain the white stone and the ceiling. Was that his anger, or...
The thought of him watching me, stroking himself, tormented by my pleas sends a shiver through me.
Frowning, he puts his hands on my shoulders. “There is no need for nerves. You’re ready.”
“Yes, Guardian.” Thank all of my mother’s old gods that he interpreted it as a shiver of fear. Perhaps we’ll talk about last night, and the night Firo left, but today I must keep my wits about me. This is the future. I can’t linger in the past.
Luthian tilts my chin up with the side of a crooked finger. “There. Hold your head like this. Don’t deign to make eye contact with them. Enter the court as if you are fae royalty because you will soon be. Don’t slouch. Don’t let your face give away your fear. And do whatever is asked of you.”
“Yes, Guardian.” And so, it’s time to embark on the next step, the one that will ultimately lead to Thrace’s undoing. “I’m ready.”
He steps back, and I note that we’ve selected similar colors for our arrival. The embroidery on his dark blue brocade coat is silver where mine is gold, however. His midnight hair is bound at his nape, and rings of silver and sapphire adorn every finger.
He catches me staring at them. “You’re right. You need...”
Rings appear on my own fingers, and something at my throat. I check the mirror to see a slender silver cord, tight but not uncomfortable, banding my neck.