Page 16 of Omission: Part 2

“Come with me.” Giving her side a quick squeeze, I step back and then tap the back of her elbow before extending the same hand. My digits wiggle a bit, the invitation there, and my queen doesn’t disappoint as a moment later, her delicate fingers slip into mine. Through our mating connection, I sense her need to feel grounded. To soothe her fragile nerves. I return her trust by tugging us out of the room.

Neither of us speak as the doors close behind us and the murmur of our family speaking becomes fainter. Each step toward her quarters in the castle—the room where we completed our mating—is heavily weighted by her nerves and my growing need to kill her demons.

The memories attached to her family and the fae kingdom will always haunt her; she lived so much of her life shackled by their ugliness, by the lies and subjugation, and lastly, by the way King Larue cruelly removed her mother and then made her believe the fae queen had passed. Moreover, I know this will bring her both joy and pain, but it’s the latter that makes me pause.

Being the cause of a single tear is unacceptable. Hurts.

“Do you trust me?” A whisper from Anaya pulls me from my thoughts, but to me, it’s as if she’s shouted it from the rooftops. Four words, and they taste bitter. It causes me to pause and take a deep breath, but my reaction is beyond me. Can’t stop myself. “Leo? What’s going…oh!”

Her back meets the wall and my hands are on her thighs, lifting her so we’re face to face. So those violet eyes can see my every emotion—the truth in my words. Sweet heat greets the head of my semi-hard cock through a thin layer of clothing, my trousers doing little to hide how ready for me she is.

Her dress is bunched up, and her bare pussy sits directly over my thickness; I want to rip my pants off and empale her on her throne.Not now, but after. We have the rest of our lives.

I made sure to get rid of every pair of panties inside her room on the property. There will never be a single stitch of clothing keeping her from me, and that’s a law I will never bend or break. Back home, I’d given my queen time to adjust to us—to my touch and hunger—but that ended the moment she marked my cock with her tiny fae fangs.

She is mine. I am hers. End of.

Because the way I want her isn’t in question, just as her cunt drips for me—the sweet slick staining my trousers—but this isn’t the time to act on it. Right now, my female needs her mate to explain, and then help her pick up the pieces of her shattered heart because what they’ve done will hurt.

“I’m going to need you to listen to me, my love. Really listen to me.” She knows I’m not expecting a verbal answer and merely gives me a nod of acknowledgment.Good little fae.“If there’s anyone in this life that I trust, it’s you.You, Anaya, are my heart.Youare my reason for living and my partner in crime. No one will guard me as you do, just as I will lay down my life to protect yours. You, Anaya, are the answer to every question I’ve ever had, and I know you’d never betray me. Your beautiful soul wouldn’t let you.”

“Then why are you hiding something from me?” While her voice is timid, I’m proud of the determination I see in her eyes. Unwavering. “Why did Isabella say there are two heirs if Ruben is dead?”

With my hips pinning her against the wall, I lift my hands to her face and cup a cheek in each. My smile is small, my forehead lying on hers. “Because Ruben was never next in line, Anaya.”

“What?” A question, but there isn’t much emotion in her inflection. If anything, she’s flat. As if she were merely speaking about the weather. “How can that be?”

“Explain or confirm?”

“Both.”

“Fair enough, but let’s do so in our room.” Pushing us off the wall, I walk up the stairs, not stopping until we’re at the foot of the large unmade bed. Our scent lingers all over the room, her come—a natural saccharine note—pulls a deep rumble from inside my chest. It travels through her, my beautiful mate biting her lips as she fights the urge to roll her hips against my hard cock.

It takes all of my strength to not move, but then I feel Anaya give a minuscule grind—the tiniest gyration of her hips—earning a sharp hiss from me. For me to bare my teeth before I toss her atop the strewn sheets and follow her giggling body down.

That laugh helps break the tension, and Anaya doesn’t fight me when I situate us, my back against the headboard while she sits nestled between my thighs. My arms wrap around her petite frame, my chin on her head. “Better, precious one?”

“Yes.” For a few seconds, we stay quiet. We just sit and be, and I’ve never in my life felt so at ease in another person’s presence. There’s no need to fill the silence with mundane chatter—not that we don’t talk a lot, but it’s not necessary either. Sometimes, in moments like this, when nothing is said, deeper connections are built. We find peace in each other. We’re more than okay to let the bond connecting us thrum with pleasurable electricity.

We’re conduits for this living, breathing pulse; born to walk this life together.

“Let me start this with a question, Anaya.” Her head bobs in acceptance of my statement. “Did you already suspect that Ruben wasn’t your mother’s son? That Larue passed him off as Amelia’s after he killed the woman who birthed the sniveling weakling trying to pass off as the next fae king.”

From my vantage point, I watch Anaya exhale roughly and then pout her lips. “To be honest…no, I’m not surprised. Not at all?—”

“There’s abutin there.”

“Because a part of me always questioned how differently Ruben and I were raised. Why he had everything, while I was forced to comply and live in fear? Not for me, but for my mother’s sake. Every part of me wanted to rebel against theking’sorders…” she spit out the word with disdain “…but I knew that if I did, he’d hurt her. Both of them would. He promised me as much.”

“I’m sorry, precious one. We waited too long to deal with him and the fake prince.”

“Not your fault.” Tilting her head back, Anaya looks up at me, and those violet eyes hold so much regret. So much pain. “I wasn’t affected like others in our kingdom, Leo, and that’s something I wondered about every day. Asked myself why he hated my mother and me so much.”

“He was a sick fuck, Anaya. All he cared about was power.”

Roi de cons.I lift my left brow at that in question, and a small giggle slips out of her. Such an innocent sound. “He was the king of idiots, my male. A man with no moral compass who thrived under the lies he created for self-importance and to reinforce the narrative that a woman can’t lead.”

“That’s bullshit.” Anger and disgust tinge my tone.

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