Page 17 of Light Up the Night

“I don’t belong to anyone,” he scoffed. “I’m a King, not one of your third-world lap dogs.”

His head canted, and his eyes shot toward me with the last remark.

“I have unarmed children that put up more of a fight than you did.” Chalice laughed, knocking the smile right off him.

“Fish!” she called. “Fish, come here, love. Now, this boy… he can kick and scream… Not that you couldn’t. T’was, after all, the only thing you did to defend yourself.”

The king’s long, blond hair flew around his face, and his fingers laced around the bars.

“I was one man against an army!” he ground out around gritted teeth. “Let me out of this cage and see how many men I take down…”

Her throaty laughter caused him to swallow his words again.

“A man of pride… interesting. Pride is almost as useful as pain.” She winked and slapped the crate. “See how long your pride sustains you down here… King.”

“What does that mean?” he asked, stepping back from the bars.

“Come,” Chalice said, offering me her hand. “My bath is getting cold.”

I laced her hand around my arm without taking my eyes off her. She was brilliant, bold, and completely reborn. The once shaky and vulnerable young lady had transformed over the last few months. Leaving the mountain and finding a purpose had left her with more confidence and a spine of steel. People gawked openly as we left the office and started back toward her room. She didn’t have a crown, she didn’t even have her fucking staff, she didn’t need them. Chalice was a queen in presence and truth… and fuck it was hot!

I was under her spell, unable to utter a word until the door shut behind us and she began to peel off her clothes.

“Isabella needs help,” I blurted out, suddenly recalling the list of matters for her to address.

She paused with her pants bunched about her thighs and glared at me like I’d cursed at her.

“I don’t care for Isabella or her troubles. She got more than she deserved when she left Rochambeau on my fucking ship.” The clipped delivery of her words sprung a smile before I could stop it.

“Are you really upset over a boat? A boat you couldn’t breathe on for over a month?” Laughter crawled past my good sense, and she flung her pants toward my face. I caught them on a back hand and followed her to the tub.

She began to cup and pour water over herself, completely ignoring my questions.

“Chalice… They’ve her and Atticus on murder charges. Aella is going mad, she will not rest until…”

“Until what? Until someone is controlling and abusing her again? Find her a husband!” she spat, jerking the towel back. I grabbed it before she could fling it at me and crushed my mouth against hers.

“You could at least let Messiah go get your fucking boat back.” I smirked, praying the heat in her eyes didn’t end up radiating across the other side of my face. When she smiled instead of slapping me, I breathed a bit easier and began to wash her while she thought on it. I hoped she was thinking on it, anyhow. Silence like that, by a woman as powerful as she, was never good. Especially when they were this sober.

“I could send for some wine?” I offered.

“There’s ale… mead… whatever that piss is they drink.” Her head jerked toward the tea table, drawing my attention with it.

“Piss… huh.” I swatted her leg with the rag and shook my head on the way toward it. It smelled of cinnamon and spices. “Mead, woman. It’s mead.”

Thank all that was sacred she came back home to us; she would have never survived a hall full of Fallen Gods with that disposition toward their sacred liquor. She snatched it from my hand before I could really offer it to her and downed half of it.

“If we leave them, we look weak,” she groaned, leaning her head back until the ends of her long black curls disappeared along with her shoulders beneath the mounds of bubbles. “Fuck me. I’d as soon go search for Reverie at the bottom of the damn sea than to lay eyes on that manipulative bitch again…”

“I know,” I patiently pacified. “...I know.”

I ran my hands over her warm slick shoulders and spread the water up her neck. It was amazing how I could play with something so beautiful and delicate while imagining all the horrendous shit I would do to Isabella when we got our hands on her. It had to end. Once and for all. Isabella had to go. I wouldn’t force the woman I loved to look back at the monsters of her past. I’d slay every one of them… Mother or not.

Chalice

The entire business of holding someone captive was eating at me. I had to be alone. King Ryver had stared at me like Atticus used to. In a way that wasn’t meant to see me at all. It shook me to the core inside, but I had done my damnedest not to let it show, which only ended up erupting on Ender when it was all said and done.

I let my head tilt with the momentum of his palms. When he rolled his hands toward the front, I caught one and placed a gentle kiss to his knuckles.

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