Page 78 of Heir to His Court

“We’ve trained together, played together, swam in the ocean together. At least in dream. We’ve fought—each other as well as shared enemies—and we’ve touched.” He watched me as I spoke slowly, forming my thoughts. “We’ve kissed. You’ve tasted my skin in my most intimate place. I’ve tasted yours.”

Blue eyes brightened, but he said nothing.

“I know the spice of your tongue in my mouth, the scent of your breath in my nostrils and the graze of your fangs against my neck.”

Raniel tilted his head.

“But I still don’t knowyou.”

I’d thought I did. Like a child, I’d thought I’d understood Raniel better than anyone else in the known realms. But I hadn't fully known the entirety of the being housed in that god-likebody callingitself my bonded. When he'd woken, I'd attributed his feyness to the peculiarities of an Old One emerging from sleep. Then I'd begun to suspectRenaud had somehow shielded himself from the knowledge of his son's murder to protect us both. I had never, in a thousand years, thoughtRaniel was actually four fractured parts of a former whole.

It galled mehe made his utter insanity seem effortless. Foolish and insignificant—that’s how I felt in comparison to him.

“As a youth standing in the shadow of my father, I often felt lesser,” he said. “His power is terrible. He rarely bestirs himself to wield it; he's content to allow Nayya to act on his behalf. It is safer for everyone.”

There was a lot of information to unpack, but I set it aside.

“Come here,” he commanded softly, and held out a hand.

I stood. His gaze, widening pupils and paling skin except for a faint blush of color on his cheekbones, traveled down my body along with rivulets of water. I waded toward him, sliding my hand into his. Raniel's fingers clasped mine, too tight for a second, then he pulled me into his arms, settling my back against his chest. His arms wrapped under my breasts, trapping my arms at my sides.

“You're trembling,” he murmured, kissing my shoulder.. “Do you fear this? Fear me?”

A rhetorical question. He felt anything I felt if he so chose.

“I'm not afraid of sex.” It wasn't the physical act that frightened me. It wasn't even intimacyI dreaded.

He filled his palms with my breasts, his fingers pale against my flesh. Long, graceful, flowing into tapered wrists. Deceptively pretty hands—I’d seen them wield a sword, I’d seen them tear out a throat.

“I will not hurt you.”

“That is almost a lie, Prince.”

He did not demur. Renaud, earlier, had looked like he had anumberof plans that involved hurting me. In any case, it wasn't physical pain I feared either, or the abuses he could inflict on me for our pleasure. I did not fear teeth or tongue or cock, or chain or whip or delicate blade. I did not fear being restrained or gagged, orput on display.

I was Fae. Nothing aboutsexfrightened me.

With this male, I feared I could not control him, or myself. He held more power in his pinky than I did in my entire body and I was used to rule, to commanding the wills of others because I was certainno matter how flawed my judgment, at least my desperate intent was pure. I only wanted safety for my family, and to avenge their deaths. Everything I'd done had been toward that goal. Safety was not the Prince's goal. Almost the exact opposite, and I could do nothing to stop him.

“That is. . .not entirely accurate,” he said.

I could not stand against him. My will, if he willed, would be dust under the force of his personality. We had chosen each other, by fate or happenstance, and it was so unequal a choosing. An Old One, the son of Ancients, and the halfling girl, daughter of a conquered isle. Would my mind ever be my own? What volition I retained was by his permission.

“That is also not entirely accurate.” Raniel sighed. “I did not choose you only to break you. Perhaps Renaud craves nothing more, but he is only one aspect of the whole. There are ways to keep him sated.”

If that was not entirely accurate, and if I could erect successful mental barriers against him, then I had slim hope. I would cling to the rungs of that hope and slowly, over time, claw my way into enough personal and political power that I could brace against him, not be swept away in his tide. But I would have to be patient, and canny, and accept a few blows. I had, after all, all the time my own power and his protection allowed. If we survived Juhainah.

“Who am I speaking with now?” As I asked the question, I shifted my mind toward his, merging the outer edges of our consciousness, tasting his thoughts, his emotions. Tasting him.

Tasting them. Raniel and Renaud I was unsurprised to find, but the remnants of Darkan's presence took me aback somewhat. The General was nowhere.

“You are speaking with your bonded,” he said, fingers digging into my breasts. “We are separate, but one, Aerinne.”

Raniel released one, and his free hand traveled down my middle to cup me between the thighs. He kissed my shoulder again, and this time he released his fangs, the tips scraping against my skin as he nudged my head to the side to expose my neck.

I inhaled, and the tremble I'd been ignoring increased. No, I didn't fear being broken.

I fearedIwantedto be broken. By him. Remade and broken all over again.

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