Page 65

Draevyn

L ater that night, Draevyn’s mind reeled with everything that happened earlier in the day. From what he discovered in the library, accidentally burning the guard’s arm, to everything Esmyra had said.

And now they would be training together every morning.

Draevyn desperately tried to shove down the thoughts of what that would entail. Of having her body pressed against his as they sparred, teaching her how to move and strike swiftly.

This wouldn’t be any opponent or trainee working up through his ranks. It would be entirely different with Esmyra. He’d noticed for a while now—the way his pulse reacted when she was near, and the way his cock would harden when she so much as smirked in his direction.

Draevyn’s throat went dry. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know what she’d do if she ever gained the knowledge of how he’d started to feel.

She’d probably threaten to cut my favorite part off . He chuckled at his thoughts, already imagining the threat slipping past those lush lips of hers.

Draevyn scrubbed a hand down his face as these thoughts spiraled, muttering a curse to the darkness .

This was pointless. It was clear he wouldn’t be able to sleep tonight. At least, not with his mind tangled in thoughts of her and the godsdamn mess they found themselves in.

So, if his mind wouldn’t let him rest, he’d at least put it to use.

He’d been searching the library for answers, chasing half-truths hidden between ancient pages, but maybe if he kept digging, he’d find something useful. Something to shift his focus away from the way his fire-fueled blood would damn near boil at the thought of her.

The halls were silent as Draevyn snuck out of his room, the castle draped in dark teal shadow. And yet, something was off. He could sense it in his bones as the air grew heavier. The castle felt awake and alive in a way it shouldn’t, especially at this hour.

Draevyn frowned, scanning his surroundings as he pressed himself into the shadows. He was mid-step when he heard it—a low, breathy sound drifting from the corridor ahead. Several of them.

He froze.

For a moment, he thought he’d imagined it, that maybe exhaustion and the pressure beneath the sea were playing tricks on his mind. But then it came again, softer this time—a hushed gasp, followed by several more.

His brows lifted. What the fuck?

Draevyn’s soft steps turned into a near sprint down the corridor, the moans and gasps growing with each step he took. Before he knew it, he was just beyond the throne room. One more turn was all it would take.

His breathing picked up as he started to panic, his curiosity driving him further. As Draevyn neared the slightly ajar doors, another muffled sound reached his ears. A voice—one that turned his blood cold, followed by a sudden rush of rage surging through his soul.

It…it sounded like Esmyra .

As he edged closer, the moans grew louder. His fingertips ached as flames burst from them, and he balled his hands into fists as he tried to put them out.

His stomach twisted, breath catching in his throat. It couldn’t be. He swallowed hard, suddenly too aware of the sharp pounding of his heart.

What in all gods was happening behind that wall?

Draevyn’s mind was a storm of unwanted thoughts, crashing into him all at once. Was Esmyra being fucked in her sister’s throne room? Was she tangled in someone’s arms, breathless and wild? Was someone else’s hands all over the very body Draevyn had been trying to force out of his mind?

His jaw clenched, nails biting into his palms as he forced himself to breathe.

Think. He didn’t know if it was her. Truthfully, he didn’t even have the right to be as horrified as he was. But something inside of him was thrashing, waiting to be set loose at the thought of another man’s hands on her.

Draevyn carefully pressed himself to the edge of the doorframe and peered inside, his breath stalling at the sight.

Sprawled across the throne room floor and leading up the steps of the dais was a mess of tangled limbs and discarded clothing.

Several figures were wrapped around each other in a haze of pearlescent skin, silks, and pleasure.

However, the moans that had sent his blood into a frenzy still lingered in the air, forcing his gaze up to the throne.

Draevyn’s stomach clenched as he took in the woman perched at the center of it all, her lean body half-draped in sheer silk, a lazy smirk curling her mouth as her teeth sank into her bottom lip. Golden waves of hair tumbled over her bare shoulders as a crown glinted atop her head.

Her doe eyes gleamed with mischief as she stared down at the male whose face was buried between her thighs, feasting for all in the room to see.

Two maidens stood behind her on each side, one reaching over her shoulder and kneading one of her breasts, while the other’s tongue traced up the side of her neck.

A slow exhale left his lips as he finally allowed himself to breathe. Relief crashed into Draevyn, seeing now that it wasn’t Esmyra’s moans echoing throughout the corridors in the dead of night.

It was her twin’s. It was the queen’s .

Draevyn tore his eyes away from the display Syrena was putting on, but anywhere his stare fell provided a similar view.

There were…so many bodies. Draevyn knew his brother loved to participate in escapades like this, often hearing him speak of his nights spent down at Lephyrin’s finest brothels. However, to actually witness it was something entirely different.

They all lay entwined, hands roaming lazily, skin gleaming with sweat and…

gods knew what else in the flickering merlights.

He turned to the left and saw two guards he recognized as they each plunged into a woman beneath them, filling her…

entirely . And when his eyes drifted to the right, he found a few others on their knees, each taking turns sucking off Azarian.

Throaty laughter hummed through the air, mixing with half-formed moans. A few bystanders, both male and female, sat propped against the pillars, dazed as they watched him with hooded eyes.

Draevyn couldn’t tell if they were tired out or eyeing him as if they would take him next.

This was a display of indulgence like he’d never seen.

He took a step backward to try and slip away, but when his eyes drifted back up the dais, his heart stopped in his chest.

Because Syrena wasn’t looking at the lovers draped around her anymore.

She was looking at him .

Syrena stood from her throne, pulling away from the tangled bodies.

The sheer silk draped over her did little to conceal her bare curves, and she let it slip tantalizingly down one shoulder as she descended the dais, her eyes locked on his.

She wore a grin that sent a violent chill along Draevyn’s spine.

Fuck .

What would she do if he ran? Would she chase after him? Have her guards pull their cocks from the womans’ mouths and seize him for snooping about the castle at night?

“You don’t have to hide in the shadows,” Syrena purred as she reached him. Her voice was smooth as honey, warm like the sunrise on the sea. “Unless, of course, you prefer to watch. ”

Draevyn’s jaw clenched, muscles tightening. “Apologies, Your Majesty. I was just leaving.” He moved to turn to the door, but Syrena reached out and grabbed his arm.

“Oh, but we’re just having a bit of fun.” Her brown eyes were heavy, her tongue lazily licking her bottom lip as she stared at him. “Don’t you want to have fun, Draevyn?”

No . No, he certainly didn’t. Not with her, anyway. It took everything in him to keep his flames at bay as he tried to steady his breathing.

Soft giggles echoed through the room as two naked women peeled themselves from the mass of lovers and glided to Syrena’s side before their attention flickered to him .

Draevyn’s brows furrowed as he noticed their pupils were vertical, like a serpent's. Esmyra’s were only like that when she allowed them to shift, but theirs appeared to be that way permanently.

He suppressed the urge to take a step back.

“He seems tense,” one of them murmured, stepping close.

The other hummed in agreement, reaching out until her fingers grazed the collar of his shirt. “Poor thing,” she whispered, tracing the fabric.

Before he could stop them, deft hands worked at the buttons before peeling back his shirt.

Syrena’s talons slipped from the tips of her fingers and walked them along his chest—a slow, teasing touch that would unravel a lesser man.

The other two women pressed closer, their hands trailing over his arms, his shoulders, their breath warm against his skin.

The sheer intimacy of their touch made his skin crawl.

Draevyn sucked in a sharp breath and his hand shot out, catching Syrena’s wrist. Her eyes narrowed beneath furrowed brows.

“I’m not here for this ,” he growled. “I couldn’t sleep and tried to walk it off. I heard…noises.” He gave her a knowing look. “I wasn’t sure what I was going to walk into, but it certainly wasn’t this.”

Syrena tilted her head, her smirk deepening. “Then what kept you here so long?” she countered, taking a step toward him, her face barely an inch below his chin. “Curiosity? Jealousy ?” She tsked, eyes gleaming.

Draevyn released her wrist, his teeth clenching as he matched her step back.

Her eyes were heavy with seduction. “Join us.” His nostrils flared as she observed him. “Or perhaps you and I can go somewhere private, if you’d rather not share.”

Draevyn certainly wasn’t like his brother in that regard. When he had a woman, she would be his and his alone. But he didn’t give a damn about Syrena.

“Enough,” he said, his voice edged with warning. “I’m not interested.”

The room suddenly felt colder, an icy chill creeping in.

The amusement behind Syrena’s eyes darkened, something sharp slipping beneath the surface. “Not interested,” she repeated, tasting the words like they were foreign to her.

A wicked chuckle slipped from her and Draevyn’s pulse began to race. The two women flanking her sides glanced at one another, as if taking the false laugh as a warning, before rushing back to join the writhing bodies on the floor.

Syrena took a slow step forward, her silk slipping further down her arm, exposing her bare breast. “You wound me,” she purred, a dangerous edge to her tone.

Her lips curled, the warmth in her brown gaze vanishing as something far colder crept in.

“Tell me, then,” she murmured, tilting her chin, “is it because of someone else? Is it because of my sister?”

Draevyn stiffened, and he cursed himself, knowing that she witnessed it.

He cleared his throat, leaning in slightly. “You’re not my type,” he admitted, giving her a wink.

A flicker of rage passed through her expression, quick as lightning.

“You have plenty of things to play with here, Your Majesty,” he said flatly. “You certainly don’t need me.”

Then, with a final, pointed look at the debauchery surrounding them, he turned from her and strode back through the throne room doors without giving her a backward glance.