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CHAPTER THREE

S olarius stood with his brothers, Tovian and Nyxian, on the opposite side of the ballroom with an untouched drink in his hand.

His brothers were distracting him with stories of their sea-faring adventures.

Having recently returned to Aeramere after months of worldly travel with Aran Ruhdneah, a High Prince of Faeven, and having been to far more places than Solarius thought possible, they were finally home.

“Tell me again about the female who broke our dear Tovian’s heart,” Solarius murmured, his gaze trained on Narissa, whose exquisite and ladylike form was now hiccupping and teetering off balance.

She’d already consumed two glasses of winter berry wine, which was two too many.

Because Narissa never drank.

“It was absolutely devastating. You should have seen poor Tov. He was ready to carry her back to Aeramere and make her his wife.” Nyxian clutched one hand to his chest, the scar cutting down the left side of his face only serving to highlight his wickedly sarcastic smile.

“Her name was Everinne, and she was damningly beautiful. Nothing at all the like the ladies of Aeramere. Pretty eyes, curves where it mattered, legs for miles?—”

“Watch it,” Tovian warned, dipping his head so a swath of midnight blue hair fell across the front of his face.

“She may not be a lady of Aeramere, but you will mind how you speak about females.”

“Of course. Apologies, dear brother.” Nyxian feigned a look of remorse, then turned to Solarius and winked.

Conspiratorial little shit.

“She had eyes the color of the eastern Arcasian Sea, like pools of turquoise flecked with the gold of the sun. Her breasts were two perfectly round orbs of creamy flesh, tanned like?—”

Nyxian grunted in pain.

Tovian jabbed his elbow into Nyxian’s ribcage with enough force that he doubled over as a grating laugh wheezed out of him.

Solarius had the decency to maintain an even expression, but his lips twitched in spite of himself.

“Fuck off, Nyx.” Tovian glowered and his face—which had tanned considerably on their voyage—heated to a reddish shade of untempered rage.

“I was in love with her.”

Solarius clicked his tongue in amusement.

“I’m somewhat surprised she was charmed by you, Tov. Usually it’s Nyx who wins over the ladies in record time.”

“I have no doubt I would’ve stolen her heart and broken it,” Nyxian declared.

His rakish charisma knew no bounds.

But he folded his arms over his chest and arched one dark brow.

“However, Tovian lured her in with his signature move.”

“Oh, really?” Solarius mused, running his thumb along his jaw to hide his smirk.

“And what move is that?”

If Tovian was known for anything, it was being an esteemed lord with a mild manner and refined taste.

He was respectful.

Attentive.

Courteous in every sense of the word.

“The inside the wrist kiss.” Nyxian clapped Tovian soundly on the back.

“Works every time.”

Interesting.

Solarius would file that bit of information away for later.

Perhaps he would attempt such a move on Narissa.

At once, heightened awareness fired through him, and his gaze latched onto her again.

This time he caught her sitting on one of the shell-encrusted ledges lining the small streams coursing through the ballroom, and she appeared dangerously close to falling in.

A piece of him had broken when he overheard her tell Sarelle she was unhappy.

It wasn’t as though he expected anything less, neither of them wanted this marriage, but if they had any hope of survival, they would have to find a means to tolerate one another.

And that included being cordial and somewhat content.

He had tried to extend her some grace.

Her feelings, thoughts, and emotions absolutely mattered.

Just because they’d been forced into an arranged marriage didn’t mean they had to be miserable.

But showing Narissa a shred of kindness had been the equivalent of attempting to pet a feral cat.

She hissed, showed her claws, and would have tried to scratch him across the face.

So, he’d chosen to let her walk away, which only led to her wallowing in copious amounts of winter berry wine.

“Sol.” A soft, sparkling voice called from behind him.

Solarius turned to find Sarelle, her hands clasped together.

She was spinning a silver ring around her finger—the focal point was coated in stardust and diamonds and looked eerily similar to a tiny wolf skull.

“Hello, sister.” He leaned forward slightly to inspect it.

“Is that an animal skull on your finger?”

Sarelle immediately tucked her hands behind her back.

“I don’t want to discuss it.”

He levied her with a wary look.

“Very well…”

“Sol.” She entreated him again, her sapphire eyes pleading.

“You must do something.”

“Must I?” he asked, already knowing why Sarelle had approached him.

“Lady Narissa has made her sentiments quite clear. She wants nothing to do with me.”

Rubbing her lips together, Sarelle’s gaze flicked to Narissa, then back to him.

The female in question was now stumbling toward the balcony, tripping over the hem of her wedding gown with every step.

“Solarius, please.” A small wrinkle of concern furrowed across her brow.

“I don’t know what transpired between the two of you during your courtship, and I will not ask as it is not my place, but Narissa is obviously hurting. I beg of you, save her from further shame this evening.”

“Further shame?”

Solarius glanced around the ballroom as Narissa lurched past a group of ladies whose blatant snickers of disdain could be heard over the strumming of music.

His insides simmered at their mocking sneers and vicious glares.

He handed Sarelle his untouched drink and popped his jaw.

“Fine.” He rolled his neck, mentally preparing for whatever battle he was bound to face with his new bride.

“I’ll go fetch her.”

Sarelle offered him her gratitude, but Solarius was already stalking toward Narissa, who had vanished through one of the stained glass doors leading to the outdoors, hunting her like predator to prey.

He had no idea if she would actually listen to him, he’d never witnessed a drunk Narissa before.

For all he knew, she may very well try to toss him over the balcony’s edge.

He made brief eye contact with Ariesian, who was in a deep conversation with their youngest sister, Creslyn, and her new husband, Drake Kalstrand.

Solarius had no doubt he would be privy to the information they discussed at a later time, but knowing Ariesian, he wouldn’t want to sully Solarius’s wedding night with talks of treason.

Ariesian tilted his head, just slightly, to where their mother stood upon a small dais in Prince Aspen’s company.

Trysta was rambling on about something, gesturing over the grandeur as though she was somehow responsible for any of it, while Prince Aspen maintained an expression of tedious boredom, his gaze fixated on something or someone at the back of the ballroom.

The hairs along the back of Solarius’s neck prickled and his skin crawled.

He didn’t care if he shared the same blood as his mother, he didn’t trust her in the least.

Stalking past the dais, he shoved open the majestic stained glass door depicting a mighty ocean wave crashing against the shore, and was assaulted by the frigid winter air.

There was Narissa, showered in the silvery wash of the winter moon, with a flurry of snowflakes dancing around her.

The pale blue wave tattoos on her ears glowed, and he caught glimpses of another decorating her spine before it disappeared beneath the seam of her dress.

Her wild golden curls whipped around her as she gripped the smooth, gilded railing with both hands.

She was trembling, though whether from the cold or some other source, he couldn’t be sure, and every so often her shoulders gave a violent shake.

Over the whisper of the wind and the call of the sea, Solarius could just hear the faint tinkling of bells.

Not bells.

Pearls.

Ivory pearls bounced off the stone balcony, the sound of it was almost enough to rip his heart from his chest.

Narissa was crying.

Fuck.

He approached her slowly, as to not frighten her, and tucked his hands behind his back.

“Rissa.”

She spun around and his lungs seized.

She was tragically beautiful.

Dark damp lashes framed her frozen green eyes.

Her cheeks and the tip of her nose were rosy from the cold, and when her glossy bottom lip quivered, he wanted to bite it between his teeth to keep it from trembling.

He longed to reach out and tuck one of those loose strands of hair back behind her delicately pointed ear.

He wanted to capture her face and kiss her until such sadness no longer haunted her, until she was warm, and soft, and wanton in his arms.

But stubborn pride kept his hands firmly behind his back, fists clenched.

“Forgive me, my lord.” Narissa sniffled, then hiccuped, swiping hastily at her cheeks.

“I just…I needed…”

She waved one hand furiously between them.

“Air.”

Solarius rocked back onto his heels, the corner of his mouth tugging upward.

“I’m rather fond of air myself.”

She ignored his quip, continuing to wipe the tears from her cheeks before they could turn into pearls.

She huffed out a breath, the air misting before her, and hugged her arms around her body, swaying toward him.

Solarius gently cupped her by the elbow, steadying her.

“Perhaps we should retire for the evening?”

That was definitely the wrong thing to say.

Narissa blinked and her icy green gaze narrowed.

She damn near froze his heart from the inside out with those eyes.

“Oh yes,” she drawled, her siren-like voice slurring on the words.

“Of course.”

She attempted to yank her elbow free from his hold, but Solarius only tightened his grip and dragged her closer.

“Best to get the deed over with then, hm?” She smacked at his chest with her other hand in a pathetic attempt for release.

“Make it well and truly official?”

“Narissa…” he warned, but this time when she yanked away from him, he let her go.

For every few stumbling steps she took, he closed the distance between them in one stride.

“It’s fine.” She drew the word out and waved another flippant hand through the air.

“I’ll go to your bed willingly since it is now my duty as your wife but expect nothing else from me.”

Did she actually think he would bed her unwillingly ?

Solarius frowned as he stalked across the balcony after her.

“Wait just a damn minute, if you think?—”

Narissa whirled on him, hair flying like golden ribbons, snow clinging to her lashes, and the pale green of her eyes burned hot with defiance.

“Rest assured, my lord. I am quite used to males spreading my thighs to take what they want, then leaving me before the sun breaks the horizon.”

The fuck?

Solarius drew up short.

His chest expanded on a breath of rage, and fury pumped through his veins.

If someone had taken advantage of Narissa, if someone had dared to lay a hand upon her, they would know his wrath.

All he needed was a name and he would end them without hesitation.

“Who?” he demanded, reaching for her arm.

But Narissa dodged his grasp, and the look she sent him was one of pure loathing.

“You.”

Before he could require an explanation as to what in the blazing stars she was talking about, Narissa was already spinning away and stomping, albeit stumbling, back toward the ballroom.

“Oh no, you don’t.” Solarius lunged and snared her by the waist, hauling her back.

“You’ve already made quite the spectacle of yourself this evening.”

He twisted her in his arms so she faced him, then scooped her up and tossed her over his shoulder.

“Put me down!” She swatted at his back, but honestly, he would have been in more pain if he’d been attacked by a swarm of butterflies.

“Not a chance,” he mumbled, wrapping an arm snugly around her wiggling thighs.

He couldn’t very wall waltz back into the ballroom with Narissa tossed over his shoulder like a satchel of sand, mostly because he didn’t particularly care to give the lords and ladies of society anymore of a reason to snare them in their vines of vicious rumors.

There had to be another way.

His gaze skimmed the outdoor balcony until he caught sight of Reif Marintide lounging against an exterior alcove.

A sconce of faerie fire illuminated his silhouette, the flames flickering in the biting wind.

He stifled a yawn, then jerked his head to the right, where a winding stone staircase wrapped around a pearlescent tower that shone like moonlight.

“Straight up.” Reif swirled his glass of whiskey, the ice clinking together softly.

“Her room is the first door on the left.”

“Right.” Solarius nodded in gratitude.

“Thanks for that.”

He flashed a winning smile.

“Anytime.”

Narissa huffed as Solarius carried her past him.

“Traitor,” she hissed.

Reif scoffed and took a sip of his drink.

“You don’t know the meaning of the word, sweet cousin.”

Solarius started up the stairs with Narissa tossed over his shoulder, taking them two at a time.

He thoroughly expected her to keep pounding on his back, but it seemed as though she had settled and finally resigned herself to her fate.

“You know,” she said, heaving a dramatic sigh, “I am quite capable of walking.”

He had seen the way she wobbled and tripped over her skirts on the balcony.

She might have been in possession of two feet, but her balance had disappeared along with the last of the winter berry wine.

“Unlikely,” he countered, adjusting her in his hold as he reached the door at the top of the stairwell.

He grabbed the bronze handle, pushed open the ornate wooden door, and was immediately assaulted by oceanic wonder.

Narissa’s bedchamber was a dreamy, calming escape.

An ode to Azuralis, the sea goddess herself.

The walls were the softest hue of blue, embedded with shimmering pearls and crushed sea glass.

Gilded scales stamped the deep turquoise flooring and in the far corner, the hearth was flanked by two small waterfalls set in marble reminiscent of a dazzling sunset.

A curving bench was positioned beneath a magnificent stained glass window, the brilliant colors depicting two sirens separated by their own desires—one remained below the surface of the sea, surrounded by a forest of coral, while the other was perched upon a stone by the shore, her gaze trained on the moon.

Overheard, the tower reached a point, and there a chandelier carved from driftwood floated as though being carried by invisible waves.

But it was her bed that held his attention.

It was large and sumptuous, draped with a thick blush comforter, a canopy of pale teal, and a pile of downy pillows.

Carefully, Solarius set Narissa on the ground.

“This is quite the place you have here.”

“Yes, well. It is somewhat of a safe haven for me, and I would prefer it if you did not ruin it.” She crossed her arms out of spite, then tipped to one side.

He made to catch her, but she swatted at him and gripped the gilded spire of her bedpost.

“I am perfectly fine, my lord.”

“Whatever you say, my lady.” Solarius lifted both hands in surrender, then shoved them into the pockets of his pants.

If she wanted to teeter around her bedroom and risk toppling into the hearth, that was her prerogative.

He stepped back, giving her some space, then canted his head to one side.

“I thought I was supposed to be the one who was drunk tonight.”

She cut him down with a fiery glare, her nails digging into the bedpost supporting her weight.

Her expression shifted and the change happened so quickly, he almost didn’t register it.

One moment, she looked like she wanted to stab him in the eye with a seashell, and in the next, she appeared pensive and troubled.

Narissa dropped onto the bed, gently swinging her legs so her shoes embellished with milky blue gemstones slipped from her feet and tumbled to the floor.

“This is all your fault.”

Tension coiled through Solarius, tightening his shoulders and stiffening his spine.

He locked his jaw.

“By all means, Rissa love, tell me again how I’ve ruined your life. How positively miserable you are. How much you loathe my very existence.”

Apparently, for some crime he did not commit.

She sighed again, but it was more despondent this time.

Shoving off the bed, she tiptoed toward her mirror, her brow puckering at her reflection.

“Sometimes I hate you.” Her voice was quiet and there was a quivery break, the slightest catch in her breath, like she wanted to expand on her statement, then thought better of it.

Instead, she reached her hands behind her back and started fumbling with the laces of her gown.

Solarius inhaled sharply.

“What are you doing?”

“I thought…” Narissa twisted, struggling to untie the ribbons.

She reached one hand over her head while the other grasped blindly behind her back.

“That is to say, I assumed we…”

She met his gaze in the reflection of the mirror, and his scowl only deepened.

If she honestly thought so little of him as to assume he would bed her while she could barely remain upright, she was sorely mistaken.

Solarius Starstorm Celestine was many things, but he was not a bastard.

He would never take advantage of a female, wife or not.

He balled his hands into fists, keeping them tucked into his pockets so she couldn’t see the furious effect her assumption held over him.

“I have no intention of being intimate with you tonight, Narissa. You’ll be incoherent by the time your pretty little head hits that stack of pillows upon your bed.”

She snatched what looked to be a silk robe off the back of a velvet chair, but all Solarius could see was a brief glimpse of teal fabric and a hint of lace.

“And I have no intention of remaining in this gown all night. I would prefer to sleep in something more comfortable.” This time, Narissa turned, glancing at him from over her shoulder.

Golden blonde waves tumbled around her bare shoulders and when those eyes, frosty green and framed with dark, wispy lashes, found him, his heart almost stopped.

“Will you help me?” she asked softly, gathering her sea-swept hair to one side, exposing the column of her sun-kissed neck, where her flesh looked entirely too kissable.

“Please?”

Solarius’s jaw locked tight.

Fuck, he was in trouble.