Page 50 of Heavy is the Crown
I twist my long hair around my finger nervously. The week’s—no,month’sevents feel like they are finally crashing down around us.
Astrea flops down next to me on the bed. “You okay?”
I don’t say anything for a moment. “Nothing feels okay. My body hurts, my magic is almost gone, Shadow left us, everything you and Ciaran shared . . . nothing is okay.” Tears burn the edges of my eyes as the vision flashes again in my mind. I push it down, hurriedly trying to focus on the things I can control. Like taking the help Astrea is offering.
“I get it,” she says. “But I’m here. You were there for me when I felt lost, you didn’t judge me or push me. So, this is me doing what you did.” She startles me by pulling me into a hug, her scent wrapping around me. I melt into her hold and allow myself to let go, just for a moment, to let the anxiety and fear bleed out in my friend’s arms. A throat clears behind us, and I pull back to see Drago, Shadow, and Ciaran standing in the doorway, looking at us.
Ciaran’s eyes are red as they take us in, but my mates just look curious.
“Are you okay,rakkaani?” Drago asks, no doubt because of the tears streaming down my face.
“No, but Astrea can help with the magic, at least for now. So, that’ll help something.” I can’t look at Shadow as I say it, can’t give life to the fact that I’m doing this because hewon’tmate me. Drago keeps his gaze on mine, understanding flaring in his eyes, tinged by a sadness.
“So, what’s the plan?” Ciaran asks.
Astrea moves a little further from me, giving me some space to pull myself together. “Well, as we know, Ava needs to gain magic by either feeding off her mates’ magic or the ceremony by the priestesses. Lucky for us, Ciaran’s mother had some knowledge of the ceremony and left it in the grimoire. It’s similar to the magic Ciaran used to get me out of the prison, but Ava will get to feed off my magic.”
“How do you feed it to her?” Shadow asks. His voice cuts me, a longing in me warring against the hurt that he’s inflicted on me.
Astrea smiles. “Sexual release.”
Shadow coughs, startled by the statement. “How does that have anything to do with giving her magic?”
“Because that’s how a succubus feeds,” I say, still refusing to look at him. “I can’t feed without that. Even the ceremony that the priestesses perform is done during their Heat Cycle under the full moon. A time when sexual energy is at its highest.”
“You’re a witch,” Shadow says.
I finally raise my eyes to catch his. “I’m half witch. But every royal member is a succubus.” It hurts too much to hold his whiskey eyes on mine, so I quickly look back to Astrea. “I think if we do this, it just needs to be us with one other person, to watch . . . just to make sure I don’t try to take more magic than I need.”
A growl echoes from one of my mates, but I don’t look at them.
She smiles widely, her eyes alive and glittering. Astrea has changed—when I first met her, she was so deep in her trauma, I worried about her survival. But now she’s so similar to Kallen, it’s worrisome for a different reason. She reminds me too much of the Astrea in my vision.
I glance at my mates. Shadow looks at war with himself. Taking a deep breath, I open my mouth. “I can’t have you here for this, Shadow, I just . . . I need more time. You left, and we haven’t talked about that.”
Hurt flares from deep within him, the air tangy with it. He must move to leave, but Drago has a grip on his wrist. “It’s not that I don’t want you, Shadow, I want you more than I can say. But we have too much to say. And I don’t think you’ll be able to hold back from stopping this.”
“And ultimately this isn’t about any of you, this is about Ava and whatsheneeds,” Astrea says. Her snakes roil over her exposed skin, coming alive suddenly and ghosting off her body. Buttercup wraps delicately around my wrist in a soothing motion, and Onyx wraps around Astrea’s neck.
It takes so long for Shadow to respond that I worry I’ve said the wrong thing, that I’ve pushed him away even more. But the tension in his body finally leaves and he nods. “I understand.”
Nerves rattle through me now as I take in everyone around me, all eyes on me. Drago must sense my discomfort because he releases Shadow and stalks toward me. He cups my face in his hands and says, “You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. You and I can complete the bond.” I hear a sharp intake of breath and sense the moment Shadow leaves the room. Drago closes his eyes briefly, and opens them again with regret swimming in the depths of blue.
“I won’t do that to Shadow, and I know you wouldn’t want to, either. This is a temporary solution until we can all talk. Everything fuckinghurts, Drago. I’m exhausted. Being that fucking vulnerable against Oisin is something that cannot happen again. With Shadow obviously still in limbo, this is the best option. You can’t protect me twenty-four seven; I have to be able to do that for myself, too.”
He nods and plants a soft kiss on my forehead before pulling back and looking at Astrea and Ciaran. “So, the question remains, who stays and makes sure this goes okay? Me or Ciaran?”
“I think it should be Ciaran,” I say, conviction in my voice. “Shadow needs you.”
Drago’s dragon surges to the surface, clearly hating the idea of another male being near me.
“No,” he growls.
I glare at him. No, at his dragon. “You don’t get to make this decision for me. I am in charge of this. Not you,” I snap. Astrea lets out a low, impressed whistle.
Drago studies me for a moment, the tension thick, before he nods. “I’ll be right outside.”
With his exit from the room, I’m left with Astrea and Ciaran both looking at me expectantly. “What do we do now?”
