Page 25 of Crown of Betrayal and Blood (Dragons of Tirene #3)

Chapter Twenty-Five

We regroup inside Sterling’s chambers. Agnar closes the door behind us with a click.

Sterling crumples into a chair, his shoulders heaving. When I catch his gaze, I search for any sign of the darkness that now lives behind Leesa’s eyes. Has it already started to wrap its tendrils around him too?

For a heartbeat, I wonder if this is just another mask, a facade to draw me close. But no, I can’t believe that.

I smother my suspicion under layers of hope and trust and move to stand next to him. My hand finds his, and I offer solace with my touch. Fear for my sister, for Sterling, for the kingdom we’re sworn to protect still churns within me.

“You shouldn’t have to comfort me. Not now.” Sterling brushes my hair back. “After what happened to Leesa?—”

“Leesa’s sick, not dead.” Somehow, I manage to keep all my doubts from coming through in my voice. “Blair was your brother in all but blood.”

Agnar strides over, his expression grim.

Bastian accompanies him and flinches at my comment. A gray color tints his typically pale skin. “That…that wasn’t Leesa. Surely there’s a cure for whatever the drachen did to her.”

“There has to be. And we will figure it out and save her. Healer Luci,” I beckon her to join our tight circle, “come over here. This is the healer I spoke to before about Leesa’s symptoms after the drachen attacks. And Sterling’s as well.”

He stiffens under my touch and stares at me with confusion in his eyes. “Me? Why me?”

I quickly recap the headaches, along with his strange, inexplicable behavior and restless sleeping. And how Leesa’s actions tonight proved Luci’s preliminary diagnosis.

“Leesa was deep in hypnosis when the drachen,” my throat tightens around the words, “showed her things. I think it left a piece of itself, maybe. Something that’s been festering.”

Luci nods, clasping her hands in front of her. “It fits with divine possession. I’ll need a priest’s consult. I’m sorry, but I haven’t had the chance yet.”

“Then go. Now.” Sterling’s command brooks no argument.

Luci doesn’t hesitate. She spins on her heel and disappears through the door.

Sterling’s gaze drifts away, his face contorting with fear. “I was enthralled by the drachen too. Twice.” His voice cracks on the confession. “What if?—”

“Try not to worry.” Agnar’s tone is oddly calm. “I was briefly caught in its snare during the first attack, too, but no symptoms here.” He taps his temple with a wry smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

My heart pounds a frantic rhythm. “I don’t know why it’s different for you, Agnar. No headaches lately?”

He shakes his head.

Pulling himself up, Sterling marches over to a shelf, his movements stiff. He grabs a bottle, uncorks it, and pours the amber whiskey into a glass. He downs the contents in one swallow.

“How long until I’m nothing but a puppet?”

In a blur, he rears his hand back and thrusts the glass against the far wall. The vessel shatters, punctuating his question like he’s daring fate to answer.

His torment causes my heart to fracture even further. I hate that the man I love is haunted by the specter of what might come. Fear claws at my insides, but it’s hope that keeps me rooted here. Hope that we can fight this, that we can survive whatever twisted game the drachen are playing.

I shudder, scanning Sterling’s face for any sign of the sudden shift I dread. “Agnar was attacked weeks ago, and he seems okay.”

“Then maybe there’s a chance for me yet.” Sterling’s words are a half-hearted attempt at reassurance. We all know it’s not that simple. “At least until we both start changing.”

“Stop. Thinking the worst won’t help any of us right now.”

If only my thoughts matched my words. I keep thinking about what would have happened if Agnar had attacked at the same time as Leesa. Sterling would probably be dead. Maybe Bastian and I would be too.

Working together, with the element of surprise in their favor, they could’ve slaughtered us all.

“We can’t lock you up, so don’t even suggest it.” Agnar’s piercing blue eyes bore into Sterling’s. “The kingdom’s still reeling from Jasper’s death. We all need you to take your place on the throne. And hells, we don’t even know if you will turn.”

“You’re right.” Sterling nods, shoulders slumped. “Just keep me unarmed. And guarded.”

“Of course. I’ll be one of those guards.” Agnar clasps Sterling’s shoulder. “If this gets worse, then we’ll consider more drastic measures. House arrest could be spun as an illness. A malady brought on by stress, nothing more. To protect your reputation until we can find a cure.”

“And we will find a cure.” Bastian frowns, rubbing his chin. “Was Leesa really able to control your fire, Lark? I know you used your magic to protect us when she was attacking, but when you defended, it looked like you had to struggle against her.”

“You didn’t miss anything. When I threw up fire to keep her from assaulting me, she pushed my flames back against me.” I shake my head in disbelief, wrapping my arm around Sterling’s shoulders as I recall my terror. “I couldn’t believe how strong she’d become. She’s never been able to overpower another person’s magic like that, let alone mine.”

Bastian frowns. “She must have accessed eyril somehow.”

Sterling scowls. “From where? I thought we got rid of it all.”

I chew the inside of my cheek. “Maybe she had some with her when she was taken from Flighthaven and has been hoarding it this whole time? Or maybe we missed some of the smuggled eyril, and she got ahold of that.”

Agnar clears his throat, breaking the weighty silence as his eyes dart between Sterling and me. “I’m going to leave you alone for tonight, but I’ll be back in the morning to check on you. I’ll make sure a guard isn’t too far away. That all right?”

I don’t miss his meaning. He’s going to give Sterling and me one last night together before he and the other guards are with him at all times.

Sterling grunts. “Yes.”

Gods bless Agnar. He’s been through hells tonight, yet he’s holding his shit together and ensuring we’re taken care of. I could kiss the man.

Sterling reaches for Agnar on his way out the door. They embrace each other, their foreheads touching. I catch soft murmurs, followed by a strangled sob.

“I know, brother,” Sterling whispers. “I know.”

After one last back thump, Agnar straightens and leaves.

Bastian, a shadow of concern in his hazel eyes, stands too. “I’m going to check Leesa’s quarters. Maybe I’ll stumble across some clues regarding whatever else she was doing.”

“Okay.” My smile feels more like a grimace. “We’ll get her back, Bastian.”

As Bastian and Agnar leave us alone in the room, Sterling shakes his head. “I should have been paying more attention to Leesa’s behavior and realized she must have gotten her hands on eyril.”

I inch closer to him, my heart aching. “No one could have known this would happen.”

“You knew something was off.” He looks at me, his brown and gold-flecked eyes reflecting a storm of emotions. “You even found a healer to help figure out what was happening.”

Hopelessness takes root in my chest, creating an almost physical ache. “But there was nothing I could do for Leesa. We still don’t know how to stop this corruption beyond the lead about finding phoenix tears in the Hidden Valley.”

He says nothing as he swipes a thumb over my cheek.

When it comes away crimson, I remember Blair’s blood splattering on my face.

Before Leesa licked it from her knife.

Bile roils up in my stomach.

Sterling stares at his thumb, and I forget to breathe.

Instead, he wipes his hand on his tunic. “I need to bathe. Feel free to join me.” Without waiting for an answer, Sterling heads for the bathing chamber.

I don’t bother undressing. There’s no way I could wear this outfit again, even if the blood could be removed. So I simply trail after Sterling, still fully dressed.

With a mere thought, flames race up my back and destroy my outfit.

As my clothes burn away, heat flashes in Sterling’s gaze. “Mine too?”

Even after everyone he’s lost, he’s somehow able to function.

I pull the shirt from his chest, flames pouring from my fingers. The fabric breaks apart, shriveling into cinders that fall to the tile. He yanks his pants off and keeps stripping.

Still desperate to get clean, we head for the shower.

Sterling steps in, pulling the chain that lets the water rain down. It pours over us, warm and inviting. As the water rushes over my head, I finally stop trembling. The cascade is wide enough to easily accommodate the two of us and soak our fully extended wings.

He grabs the soap and lathers his face before gently washing mine while I release my hair from its braid.

Sliding around each other, we clean ourselves quickly. After that, our frantic movements slow.

Then, in a moment of vulnerability, Sterling kisses me. He tastes of fear, longing, and desperation.

I wrap my arms around him, pulling him close. Things escalate quickly, driven by the urgency of our situation.

“We can’t. It isn’t safe.” Sterling’s protest is a whisper against my ear, his breath warm and shaky. “ I’m not safe.”

Tears mingle with the water dripping from his ebony hair. His expressive eyes are glazed with pain and hunger as they scour my face for any hints of fright.

My fractured heart splinters again.

I squeeze my eyes shut and give myself a second to tame my rampaging emotions before reopening them.

“I’ve put you on your ass before.” Stepping forward, I slide my breasts against his chest. “And I promise to do it again if necessary.” I nibble at his bottom lip and slip my hands over his hips. “Deal?”

He shudders as I shift, my belly gliding over him where he’s pressed rigid and ready between us. “Lark, I’m serious. We don’t know for sure what turned Leesa.”

“No, though I’m pretty sure shower sex didn’t play into it.” My attempt at humor falls flat, but my hands continue to roam over his muscular back, tracing the lines of tension that map out the battles he’s fought, both physically and within the tangled web of court politics. “This will remind us we’re alive. That we still have each other.”

He’s still for a moment, that soldier’s discipline holding him taut, but then something breaks, and his restraint crumbles. He responds with renewed fervor. His lips trail fire down my neck, and every touch ignites a spark that threatens to consume us both.

My head drops back, and I nearly prove myself a liar as the water hits me in the face. I have to hold my breath so I won’t choke. Reaching up, I pull the chain to turn off the water. The heat Sterling is teasing out of me with his hands between my legs is enough to ensure we won’t get so much as a chill.

Putting my hand on his shoulder, I try to push him back, but he seems to have the same idea.

Instead of moving away, he sinks to his knees. His tongue, chilled and agile, follows his fingers, replacing them as they glide back and deeper.

“Oh, gods.” I part my shaking legs. “I’m not going to be able to stand if you keep that up.”

“Not a problem.” He groans into my sensitive flesh. “I’ll take you however I can get you. I just need to be inside you.”

Our coupling is a tempest, a clash of elements that drowns out the world. Sterling’s icy magic hovers at his fingertips and mouth. A shocking contrast to the heat that radiates from my own skin. It’s a dangerous dance we perform on the wet tiles, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.

His hands roam, strong and sure, while mine grasp at him, memorizing the contours of muscle and skin and engraving this memory onto my soul. My moans echo against the tiles as he drives me wild. The sensation of his mouth on my core is glorious, and I never want it to stop.

At the same time, I want to touch him. Taste him. Feel his hard cock inside me.

“Sterling,” I gasp, struggling to form a coherent sentence. “I need you.”

He freezes for a moment before springing into action.

I don’t have to tell him twice.

He pushes up behind me, hands grazing over my skin from my breasts down to my waist. With practiced ease, he pushes into me, replacing the chill of his tongue with the heat I’m so desperately craving.

We have to work together, clinging to each other in order to move. I clutch the wall, body pressed against the slick tile.

He grips my hips, fingers digging into the soft flesh. Each stroke is frenzied, a wild, wordless declaration.

As he thrusts forward, I arch back, meeting him in the middle over and over again.

Sterling grips my wet mass of hair, winding it around his fingers. Gently, he tilts my chin toward him. He trails kisses along my jaw, down my neck, and over my right shoulder.

Pleasure builds, higher and higher until I’m afraid I might combust.

“Don’t stop.” I grit out the words, moisture burning my eyes at the intensity. “Don’t you dare fucking stop.”

“Never.” His grip on my hair tightens, stinging my scalp at the roots as he continues thrusting.

“Yes.” My body quivers at this new, delightful pain. His pace becomes erratic, and I know he’s as close as I am.

“Come for me, love.” He grinds out each word as we reach that pinnacle together. It’s a bittersweet crescendo, a mixture of pleasure and pain so intense it borders on the divine.

I’m left trembling and weak, our demons temporarily washed away as Sterling blankets my body against the tile.