He stills inside me, releasing with a deep, shuddering groan that makes me clench around him. Minutes pass while the two of us lay sprawled on the bed, utterly spent, and I realise with beautiful, devastating conviction that Erax has more than won the battle between us.
He’s completely conquered me.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“Maelena, wake up.”
“No!” I fight the arms trying to pull me awake as I stare down at my parents’ burned faces. Ash swirls in the air around me, falling to a black, scorched earth engulfed in flames. “NO!”
An enormous shadow stretches over me, devouring the sunlight.
I know this dream. I have dreamt it a thousand times over; it always starts and ends with fire. But this time the dream is different. When I fall to the ground, I’m not burned alive by the dragon circling the clouds above. This time my hands fall into an icy sea of roses, and they’re pulling me under, dragging my whole body in until I’m almost frozen in place. I use what strength I have to claw my way through them, grasping petal after petal, my hands scratched and bleeding from the shards, but nothing brings me back to the surface. I’m drowning.
“Maelena!”
I open my eyes with a quick breath. Erax hangs over me, his features etched with worry. Tears sting my eyes but for some reason I can’t hold them back anymore.
“Why did you do it?” I ask, my voice barely audible even to my ears.
Erax pauses for a moment before he moves back. “Do what?”
My heart clenches with an abrupt pain that stabs me in the chest.
“Kill my parents.” I turn my head to look at him, my tears sliding into the silk pillow. “Why did you kill them?”
For a long moment Erax is silent. He holds my stare and there is a glow in his eyes from the dying firelight that reminds me of the flames from that very night. He drags a hand through his hair and shakes his head, then, with a glance at me, he eases out of the bed. I hold the coverlet to my chest and watch him pull on his trousers and shirt, followed by his boots. He picks up his cloak from the back of a chair and offers it to me.
“I’ll show you,” he says, “but I don’t want to kill every guard we pass on the way.” He nods to the ottoman where he… my cheeks flush as I recall him between my legs and the moans, he made me cry out. “There are clothes and boots in there. Gloves too. You’ll need them.”
With a curious nod, I slide out of the bed with the cover still draped over me, and tiptoe to the ottoman. I somehow manage to open the lid without dropping the cover to the floor. A feat that seems to amuse my shameless spectator.
“Why do you still hide from me, Mist?” He tosses the cloak on the bed and helps keep the ottoman open for me. “It’s not like I haven’t seen your gorgeous body. Or licked every square inch of it. Stop hiding.”
Damn him! My blush increases tenfold. I try to focus hard on pulling out several items of clothing, and a pair of black boots that appear to be my side. I wish I’d thought about checking the ottoman earlier. It might have saved me from having to wear that embarrassing nightgown. I find the very item on the floor, and I stuff it inside the ottoman before closing it over. Hopefully I won’t need to wear it again anytime soon.
“Pity,” Erax sighs. “I rather liked that on you, but I won’t have anyone else seeing you wearing it. It’s not really fitting for where we’re going anyway.”
I hate the way my heart jumps at the possessiveness in his tone.
“Where are we going?” I ask, pulling a light pale blue tunic over my shoulders.
“Somewhere I should’ve taken you weeks ago.”
The tunic falls low enough that I don’t need to wear leggings. I tie the straps at my waist and then pull on the boots. Erax holds the cloak out for me. I turn around and let him drape it over my shoulders. His fingers brushing my neck sends a shiver through me.
“You’re not going to give me another gift again, are you?” I follow him out of the room. “Your gifts really are starting to frighten me.”
He laughs, and my heart does that stupid jump again. “I’m going to give you something better than a gift. The truth.”
Outside of the chamber, he pulls a torch from the wall, and takes my hand in his. With a nod to his guards, bidding them to stay, he then leads the way again. The palace is eerily quiet as we walk. I remain just a step behind him, and I use the opportunity to trail my eyes over his towering body. His hair is tousled, and his skin looks like burnished gold in the firelight. His white shirt is only half tucked into his trousers, but his sleeves are rolled to the elbow, like I’ve seen him do a few times. And yet, as he holds the torch in his hand, the muscles in his forearm ripple and flex, and I don’t know why I find that so attractive. I need to get a hold of myself.
Erax said he’s going to show me the truth and that’s what I need to focus on.
Not his forearm. Or the way his back muscles are straining that shirt. Or his?—
Dead parents, stolen kingdom, brutal captivity. Remember those things, Maelena?
We can’t let a gorgeous thief make us forget them. Even if he is our husband.