Page 86 of The Sorrow of Shadows

“Oh yeah,” she whisper-yells, barely any quieter than before. “Gotta be quiet, so they don’t know we’re fucking.”

“We’re not fucking tonight, Princess,” I whisper as we finally reach my room.

“Why not? I love it when you fuck me.” Her words have me instantly hard, and I groan. I throw up a silencing shield before I say my next words.

“I promised I wouldn’t fuck you tonight. It was your condition, if you remember. But gods, Princess, if you keep talking like that, I might just have to break that promise.”

She pushes me backwards until my legs hit the edge of the bed. “What if I want you to break me, instead?” She bites her lip in a seductive move that has precum leaking from my tip.

“Princess, I’m about two seconds from cleansing that alcohol from your blood and letting you go to bed sober so you come to your senses. I don’t have any restraint whenit comes to you.”

Just when I think she’ll see reason, she pushes me backwards onto the bed and straddles my hips, rocking against my erection.

“Really? ‘Cause I think you want to fuck me, just as much as I want you to. Sobriety won’t change that reality,” she whispers as she grinds her hips down on me.

“That’s it,” I snap, but not in the way she’s expecting. I let my Hemonia Gift course through her, stealing her inebriation and instantly sobering her.

She shakes her head, the fuzziness clearing and her senses returning.

“Sorry about that,” she grimaces.

“You don’t need to apologize. You just need to know, that’s the last time I’ll be holding myself back from taking you. Test my resolve again, and I’ll fuck you just to remind you what I’m capable of.”

“Understood,” she gulps, removing herself from my lap.

I stand with her, then pull her dress over her head as she lifts her arms. I walk to my dresser, looking for some sleep clothes that will fit her. I settle on an old tunic that hangs low, almost reaching her knees.

“Sorry, I don’t have any sleep pants for you, but gods, I love the sight of you in my clothing,” I say as she pulls the shirt over her head.

I lay down in bed, pulling her into me. I lay on my side with her in front of me, my arm wrapped around her stomach. She sighs against me, and I nuzzle into her hair, inhaling her scent.

It takes us no time to fall into a deep, peaceful sleep.

Breyla’s screams startle me several hours later. She’s thrashing from side to side, tears streaming down her face as she criesJulian’s name over and over in her sleep. Her body trembles violently as I try to shake her awake.

“Breyla, wake up!” I whisper-yell, before ensuring the sound shield I had placed earlier is still in place. The last thing I need is for a servant to hear her screams and find her in my room.

She doesn’t respond to my attempts to wake her, still crying Julian’s name on repeat. I can’t imagine what horrors haunt her, but I want to chase them all away, erase them from her soul.

I change tactics, now shaking her firmly, but not so much it will hurt her. “Breyla, please. Wake up!” I beg as her thrashing and tears continue.

Still nothing. I straddle her hips, laying my forehead against hers and cup her cheeks.

“You’re safe. Please, my love. Wake up,” I whisper, my voice relaying the desperation I feel internally.

Her breathing evens, tears eventually ceasing. The trembling stops, and her eyes open. I stare into her emerald greens, wishing to drown in them, if it only meant she never screamed like that again.

“Aurelius?” she croaks.

“Yes, Princess?”

“Thank you.”

“Of course. You want to talk about it?”

I’m still straddling her, my forehead resting against hers.

“I will if you lay back down,” she offers.

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