Claiming the Prince: Book One (43 page)

“What do you mean?”

Damion snorted, shaking his head. “Still eating?”

She frowned behind the plum she’d been devouring. “So?”

He looked up at the stars filling the violet sky. “Well, the starlight is strong tonight, but it’s been strong on other nights since we’ve been together and I haven’t noticed your skin . . . glowing quite the way it is now.”

She stopped chewing and looked down at her arms. A faint luminescence like moonlight emanated from her skin. “Oh shit.”

“Starting to Shine,” he confirmed.

Shooting up to her feet, she tossed the plum’s pit away. “Do you know where Kaelan is?” she asked.

“No.”

She pointed to the coil of gorgon rope resting next to the armor form. “Take that, find him, and tie him up.”

“Shouldn’t I tie you up too?” he asked, not moving.

She stretched her neck. “I’m going up to my room. I’ll instruct Meer to keep me there until the Shine has passed. I should be fine, so long as I don’t see him. But I’ll have Meer secure the door magically, just in case.”

“Or maybe you could just let it happen,” Damion said. “Save us all a lot of trouble.”

She picked up the empty basket and whipped it at him. The wood crunched against his up-thrown arms.

“Things are already complicated enough,” she said. “He loves Honey.”

He frowned at her. “Are you sure about that? Besides, I don’t think this has anything to do with his feelings for the nymph.”

“Oh, please—”

“I don’t like what he is,” Damion said, standing, “but I like his brother even less.”

She glowered. “This is not about Endreas. Kaelan has no experience with Raes. He doesn’t know what it’s like when one Shines. It’s not fair to him. He wouldn’t thank us for allowing it to happen once he came back to his senses.”

Bending, Damion grabbed the coil of rope. “Don’t be so sure about that, coz.”

“I don’t know what you’re thinking, but—”

“I’m thinking you’re about to stand before the Crown and vie for Radiant with an unclaimed Prince at your side. Flor and Rahul can kiss ass as much as they want, but we all know most of the family will never support you. You were already defeated and you’ve been exiled. You have to do everything you can to give yourself the best chance possible—”

“You want me to claim Kaelan while I’m Shining?”

“He’ll agree, won’t he?”

“Yes. He will, but not because he wants to. When the Shine is gone, he’d be furious and he’d have every right to be. I promised him I wouldn’t claim him.”

“Weeks ago!”

“So?”

“So ask him again,” Damion said.

“He’s not going to be thinking about anything except for getting me into bed. He’ll agree to anything right now.”

“You might not Shine again for months! This is your only chance—”

“To break my promise and claim someone against his will?”

“Hardly,” he said. “It’s been clear since he died that whatever delusions he had about the nymph are long gone.”

“You don’t understand. What happened that day was—”

“I understand that he’s gone out of his way to be near you every chance he gets. That he watches you when he thinks you’re not looking. You can’t tell me you don’t—”

“He’s a Prince—”

“And you’re a Rae and that’s how it’s meant to be. Stop fighting it and let it happen! It probably would’ve happened already if you weren’t holding out for the other—”

Her hands curled. “I am not holding out—”

“Then why have you blinded yourself to Kaelan? He wants you. The only reason he hasn’t taken you is because you’re keeping him away. You blame the nymph, the promise, but it’s none of those things. It’s you. The only reason I can see that you’re resisting is because of that—”

“They’re both Elves, you know,” she growled. “Or has that ceased to be of importance to you?”

“What’s important is that Kaelan is on our side. He has no designs on thieving the Crown or bringing the Lands under the auspices of the Throne. Lavana has claimed her Prince and she has been here for the last seven years. She defeated Alanna. Claiming Kaelan would strengthen your chances of not having to meet her in combat—”

“I will not break my word,” she said through her teeth. “Find him. Tie him up.”

She charged through the bushes, back towards the house, certain that she was right.

Sleeping with Kaelan while in her Shine was wrong, and claiming him out of the question. But she couldn’t help remembering that day at Eris’s . . . how overpowering his desire for her had been; how good it had felt to be touched by him; what he had said . . .

She rushed into the kitchen, where the brownie was a gray and brown blur zipping through the lamp light, cleaning and organizing and cooking all at once. Up the back stairs, she raced towards the west bedroom, her heart pounding.

Was Damion right? Had she been ignoring Kaelan? Resisting him? Why? Because of Honey? Or Endreas? Or because of how she’d felt when he’d died? The hollowness had been overpowering. While she knew they stemmed from having his heart-place within her, it didn’t make the feelings she’d experienced any less real. Or any less terrifying.

Regardless, she cared too much for Kaelan to break her word.

When her Shine had burned out, maybe then, she could talk to him. Maybe then she could open herself to the possibility that something had changed between them beyond the influence of their instinctual attraction.

But the Shine was all instinct, primal and unforgiving. If she saw him now, there would be no conversation. Not until after the Shine had ended, which could be hours or days.

Fortunately, it seemed Flor had Kaelan occupied elsewhere in the house, because she didn’t see him.

Hurrying into the room, she pushed the door shut and leaned her back against it. Though it had only been a short time since Meer had appeared, the wood floors shone. The globes over the oil lamps on the walls glittered. The four-poster bed was freshly turned down. Only the faintest hint of mustiness hung under the aromas of lavender and sage, which were bubbling in a diffuser on the night table.

“Meer?” she called softly.

The brownie popped up before her, the lightest sheen of sweat on her brow.

“Your bath is through there,” Meer said, pointing towards an open archway. “I am quite busy acquiring new clothes—”

“Can you secure the doors and windows of this room?”

“Secure them?” Meer asked.

“Lock them. I’m in my Shine,” Magda said, holding out her softly glowing arms as evidence. “I don’t want any . . . stray Princes knocking down my door or breaking my windows.”

Meer’s nose wrinkled. “Whoever heard of a stray Prince?”

“I need to rest,” Magda said more strongly. “If Cae is allowed in here, I won’t sleep . . . possibly for days.”

Meer’s eyes widened. “That’s unacceptable. I’ll secure the entrances, but you’ll be locked in.”

Magda sagged. “That’s fine. Thank you. And will you do you me another favor?”

The brownie gave Magda a look that suggested she was already quite put-upon.

“I asked Damion to tie Kaela . . . Cae up with gorgon rope,” she said. “Please see that it’s done.”

“Why in the Lands would you—?”

“Because Cae has a very unusual ability to traverse the Shadow Realms, which he could do to enter my room. The gorgon rope can prevent him from doing so.”

Meer’s eyebrow lofted. “That
is
quite unusual. I will see that it is done, but you must see that you are bathed and in bed at once. I have a great many preparations ahead of me. I may not return to you unless you call for me.”

“That’s fine. Thank you.”

Meer gave her one last sour look and then disappeared.

Magda tried the door knob. It turned, but the door didn’t budge, not even a creak. She let out a long breath and then wandered into the bathroom.

Amorphous gray and blue-veined tiles covered the floors, the walls, the ceiling. A deep tub carved of the same marble, native to the Eastern Cliffs, sat beneath a stained-glass river tableau. Brownie-lights glowed, pulsing and ebbing through the glass in rippling blue and green ribbons, so that the room appeared submerged underwater. Steam collected on the tri-fold mirrors above the sink and an aromatic blend of jasmine, honeysuckle, nutmeg, and cream filled the air—Rae oil. Her own personal perfume blend, which she hadn’t smelled since she’d been exiled. How Meer had discovered it in such a short time, Magda had no idea, but all at once, it brought tears to her eyes and unknotted the muscles in her shoulders.

Finally, she slid her knives into her shadow’s vault and peeled off her clothes.

After a long soak and a good scrub with the salt and oils left on the ledge by the tub, she wrapped herself in a plush robe that had been folded neatly on the dressing stool.

The Shine was full on her now, and the mirrors weren’t the only things that were misted. She chewed her cheek, fighting the temptation to call Meer and tell her to remove the spell from the doors. To hell with promises. The thought that Kaelan was somewhere in the house, tied up, curled her toes and set her heart purring.

But, as she combed back her wet hair, she managed to push aside the urge, though she ached from head-to-toe to be touched, to be kissed, to be taken.

Locked in her room though, she still had enough sense to remember why she had done so. Just so long as she remained alone . . .

Sinking down onto the bed, she planned to satisfy herself as much as she could and then sleep for as long as possible. Had she not been so weary, the Shine might’ve prevented her from sleeping, but the two pulled on each other. Without a Prince immediately present, sleep was winning out.

She drank some water, chewed a couple of sweet chamomile and peppermint drops, and allowed the burn of desire to slip over into the warm lull of sleepiness.

She drew back the covers, drowsy and prepared to have some very, very good dreams, when the scorching tension that had been sloughing away suddenly reasserted itself. Her fingers balled in the blankets as her breath caught.

In the corner of her eye, she saw the shadows shift.

Not now, please.

Endreas’s lips parted as though he’d been about to speak, but had forgotten what he was going to say. But it didn’t matter, because she wasn’t interested in conversation.

C
ROSSING THE ROOM
in a few swift steps, she hooked her arm around his neck and kissed him. Where their delicate skin met, heat welled and coursed through her, down her throat, across her chest, into her depths. His mouth pressed hard against hers, opening, their tongues meeting.

Tugging off her robe took less than a second and then his hands were on her skin, her back and thighs, cupping one of her breasts and working the tender flesh, rolling her nipple between his thumb and forefinger. She broke from his kiss to gasp.

His mouth moved to her breast, tongue flicking, and then drawing the peak between his lips until she panted, fingers twisted in his hair.

The throbbing heat in her core tangled and clenched.

She pushed him back, stripping off his shirt and yanking down his trousers to expose his glorious shaft, already hard and darkened. Her mouth watered and she bent to taste it, just to lick the drop of salt from the tip, but instead found herself taking him in.

He groaned and seized the back of her head as her mouth plunged down the length, laving and consuming all at once. As much as she enjoyed the growls and needy thrust of his hips, she retrieved her knives to slice through the wrappings and the laces of his boots. She put her knives away, ran her tongue once more over him, and then freed his legs from the last of his clothes. Pushing him back against the wall, she mounted him, hitching her leg up onto his thigh, sinking her weight down onto his pulsing erection, every inch unfurling another wave of pleasure so intense she nearly lost all strength before he had fully entered her.

He hoisted both of her legs up, slamming into her, spurring an eruption.

Her vision flickered in and out as the coiling tension in her briefly released before drawing back tighter than ever when he withdrew to carry her over to the bed.

Pinning her down, his chest against hers, he slid into her again, slowly. His lips branded her throat, breath strafing across her skin, growling and moaning and murmuring.

She couldn’t tell if his words were real or a new language altogether, created in the moment. Either way, she understood the meaning. She may not have been claiming him, but he was claiming her.

Each stroke of his heavy stave pushed her closer. Little tremors rippled off the surface of her skin as he slid out to his swollen tip and then built up again as he plunged once more, as if he was trying to drive deeper somehow, even though he already filled and stretched her to the limits.

Dizzy with need, she pushed him over onto his back and straddled him, sliding down the steel of his flesh.

His hands molded to her breasts, squeezing and twisting as she rode him. He caught her nipple in his mouth. Each pull of his lips and flick of his tongue tightened her around him, her passage milking him.

He threw back his head, gritting his teeth through a moan, hands gripping her hips, digging himself into her deeper, quickening her pace.