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Chapter Forty-Eight: Rhea

My eyelids flutter open, the edges of a dream fraying away as I focus on the sitting area that’s visible through Nox’s open bedroom door. My breaths are easy, and my heart beats in a slow and steady rhythm. How long has it been since I’ve woken up feeling so at ease? Have I ever felt that way before? I had moments of being content in the tower, days where nothing unexpected would happen. Where my uncle wouldn’t visit and Alexi would. But there was always an underlying current of anxiousness within me, rocking me as if I was driftwood in the sea. Reminding me that any moment of calm was nothing more than the eye of a storm and that the chaos of tumultuous waters would soon find me again—leaving me broken and battered on the floor.

Like he can sense the direction of my dreary thoughts, Nox curls his arm more tightly around my waist, the warmth of his body pressing into me from behind. Since Bella had come into my life, I had only slept alone for a handful of nights. There were the few after I had asked Alexi to free her from the tower—before she came back dying and my magic saved her. Then there were the two nights I had slept in Bahira’s room. Maybe it makes me weak or a pathetic excuse for an adult woman, but I like waking up knowing that I’m not alone.

I interlace my fingers with his, taking in a deeper breath. The moon may have the stars, but at least I have you. The phrase rings in my head, and I wonder if it will always be meant just for Bella or if there will be a day when my heart might be okay with saying those words to Nox. I think of my happier memories of Bella. How she brightened my days when it would have been so easy to live in darkness. How she saved me from completely spiraling into a despair so deep after Alexi’s death that there would have been no return. And, for a moment, I feel the weight of that permanent grief that sits so heavily on my chest lighten a fraction. Maybe pushing the memories away, trying to force myself to become numb to them, only keeps that boulder in place. What if, instead, I could chip away at it by keeping that part of my heart that is exclusively hers unguarded and free? The guilt and sadness might never disappear completely, but maybe they could dwindle down to the size of a pebble. Still there, still something jagged and rough, but smaller—more manageable.

Warm lips meet my shoulder, Nox’s gentle kisses causing my skin to break out in goosebumps. “Good morning.”

Butterflies take flight low in my stomach at his sleep-roughened voice. “Good morning to you.” I wriggle again but still my movements when I feel him hard against my low back.

“I had a particularly rousing dream,” he murmurs into my hair, his fingers flexing beneath my hand.

A blush pinches my cheeks as I huff out a laugh. “And here I thought it might be because of me.” Bold. It is so unusually bold of me to speak this way, but if fear and meekness thrive in oppression and anguish, then the opposite might be true in freedom and safety. While I won’t say that I’ll ever be completely fearless, in this moment, it isn’t trepidation that is making my toes curl and need light up my veins.

“Who do you think the dream was about? It’s always because of you, Rhea.” My legs clench together as his fingers move idly on my bare stomach beneath my satin chemise. “Did you think you were the only one who thought about the other’s hands on them? That I might not think of you in sleep as often as I do awake?”

“You’ve never hinted otherwise,” I tease, arching more into him.

Nox chuckles, and the sound is as silken as the wetness growing between my legs. “I’m a gentleman. I wouldn’t dare speak of such things.” The tips of his fingers dip beneath the waistband of my undergarments, causing my breath to catch.

“I recall you saying something about not being one during a game of naughts and crosses back in the tower.”

He kisses my shoulder again before leaning in closer to my ear. “Do you want me to be a gentleman now?”

My eyes go straight to his as I turn my head, the silver in them blazing bright. I find I don’t care that it’s the first thing in the morning or that I probably look a mess. All I can think about is his touch—the warmth of his skin and softness of his mouth. Our lips brush, and I move the hand still holding his farther down to where I’m aching to feel him.

A small gasp from me separates our kiss when his long fingers reach that sensitive bud. He moves them deftly, gathering every ounce of pleasure until it all pools low in my stomach. I can’t help the moan that leaves me when—after teasing—his hand drops even lower and one of his fingers slides delicately inside of me. His groan from behind rattles my back, satisfaction in the sound at the wetness he finds waiting for him.

My own hands grip onto anything I can to brace myself—one on the sheets in front of me, and the other reaching around behind me to dive into his hair. Nox’s mouth is on me the entire time. Sometimes showing my neck attention, and sometimes tangling his tongue so perfectly with mine that it draws out the memory of the other things his tongue can do.

He takes his time, murmuring his appreciation for how my body is reacting to his touch. Adding a second finger, he coaxes me past the brink of release over and over again until I feel completely boneless and I’m not sure where my body ends and the bed begins. When he removes his fingers, my arousal shining along them, he sucks them into his mouth, and I forget how to breathe . There is nothing but the longing to join my body with his again, to be the beginning and the end of each other.

I muster enough strength to sit up, pulling my chemise off eagerly and throwing it to the ground. Nox laughs, the sound cascading over me, before he pulls me on top of him, my knees straddling his hips. I brace myself on his broad chest, leaning over to kiss him.

“Tell me what you want, Rhea,” he says against my lips, his voice husky and deep.

I gasp at how hard he feels beneath me, his hands guiding my movements back and forth along him. “I want you ,” I answer.

“Where?”

I suck his lower lip into my mouth before dragging my tongue along it. Nox likes hearing me tell him exactly what I want, even though I know that he has no trouble deciphering it on his own. At first, I thought it was because he wanted to make sure I never felt like he was taking advantage of me. Then I thought it might be his way of making me feel more comfortable with my desire, with being vocal in an intimate situation. But now I think he simply finds pleasure in me telling him what I want—what I need —and knowing he is the only one who can give it to me.

“Inside of me,” I whisper, smiling when he curses in response.

His touch is searing as his warm hands slide up the sides of my body, his thumbs tracing a delicate path along the underside of each breast before moving over my peaked nipples. I rock myself over him, the exhilarating anticipation making my entire body burn bright and my magic hum against my bones. When we’re both panting, the air thick with our magic, he effortlessly flips us and quickly removes what remains of our clothing.

“Say it again,” he murmurs against my neck, his fingers moving over my breast before gliding down to the warmth between my legs. “Tell me where you want me. Only me.”

Stars above , I love when he’s like this, when it seems like he can’t get enough of me. The first time he had ever said that I was only his , he froze as soon as the words left him. It was as if he hadn’t meant to say them out loud. I could see that an explanation of what he meant—or worse, an apology—was on the tip of his tongue, but I only pulled his face to mine and kissed him until I felt him relax. I love his possessiveness of me because it doesn’t feel like possession. It feels like longing and desire and… love .

I graze my hands up his torso, my breath faltering when I feel the slick tip of him brush against my thigh. “I need you inside of me, Nox. Please. ”

I have had him every day since our first time, sometimes multiple times a day, and it never gets any less magnificent. The desire he draws out of me is only sated for a time before I begin to crave him all over again. I swear that every time we join, I discover something new. About myself. About him. About how our bodies meld and peak and fall apart together.

He doesn’t hesitate, and I don’t think either of us is fully breathing when he pushes in slowly, letting my body gradually adjust to every perfect inch.

“You feel so good,” he groans into my heated skin once he’s seated to the hilt. “Fuck, every time, you feel perfect .” He moves slowly—consciously—measuring each thrust of his hips.

The fire that simmers low in my belly is begging for all of him. I want him as uninhibited and lost in this moment as I am. “More,” I say with a gasp, my nails scraping down his back. His breath stutters in response, the arm bracing his body flexing near my head. “I need more.”

His eyes lift to mine, tendrils of his raven hair dancing above his eyebrows as his self-control disappears. The cadence of his hips slows, but each pump hits me deeper and deeper until I’m writhing beneath him. I groan out his name, praying to him with my body—my breath.

He snaps upright so that he’s on his knees with my legs thrown over his shoulders, his arms wrapping around my thighs until he’s hugging them to his chest. His thrusts are calculated and drawn out, the deeper angle torturously perfect. He’s a conductor, and my body is his choir as it hums and sings to his every command. My fingers reach to grip onto his knees while my back arches as pleasure, hot and sweet, rolls down my spine. Shouts that might be his name or a cursing of the gods or something in between leap off my tongue as my muscles flutter and spasm, my climax unraveling within me.

Nox tilts his head back, the sunlight caressing the column of his throat and his chiseled chest as his hands squeeze my legs tighter. All I can do is watch as the muscles of his powerful body contract as he joins it with mine. He separates my legs, brazenly looking at where we are connected. The sight alone draws a breathy moan from me, but then he pulls out, the fullness of him gone. I don’t have time to protest because his mouth is quickly on me—his tongue inside of me—all while his hands slide up my body to my breasts.

“ Oh gods ,” I rasp, stars bursting behind my eyes as I cover his hands with my own. It doesn’t take long under the ministrations of his mouth for me to become undone again. Through the buzzing of my satiation, I hear him chuckle quietly, moving his lips intimately against me before crawling his way up my body. His mouth crashes onto mine, stealing my oxygen. My sanity. My existence . There will never be enough of this— of him .

Pulling back, he gently brushes the hair away from my face as his eyes roam over me. “I am so fucking unworthy.”

“No more unworthy than I am,” I reply, though a small spark within me flares in defiance at that thought. No. I am worthy of this moment, of him —of whatever I can make of this life in newfound freedom. If I dare to believe it, perhaps I am worthy of even more . And so is he.

My name is a tortured sound paired with a deep thrust as he fills me to the hilt again. I move my body with his, content to watch him come undone as I swallow his groan of pleasure with a kiss when he finishes. The room falls mostly quiet, nothing but our heavy breaths and joined magic sizzling in the air. Nox kisses my forehead as he slowly pulls out, murmuring his love for me before tucking me into his side when he rolls to his back.

“Will it always be like this?” I ask him, my body perfectly aching and languid.

His fingers drag back and forth on my shoulder as he takes his time to answer. “I will try my best to ensure it is.”

I smile as I look up at him, his face reflecting the same contentment I feel in my soul. “I think this is my favorite part,” I whisper after a moment, kissing his warm skin.

“I don’t know if I should be offended that it’s after sex that is your favorite.”

I laugh, lifting up slightly to adjust so that my arms are stacked on his chest with my chin resting atop them. “Oh, I like the sex too.” His eyes heat as he bends his arm back and rests his head in its crook. “I just mean this moment. Where it feels like the world pauses just for us.”

He stares at me, that all-knowing gaze piercing me until my cheeks begin to flush. “Come closer.” His hand reaches up to wrap around the back of my head while he pulls me gently into a kiss. “I love that feeling too. Though, if I’m being totally honest, the little gasps you make as you come are my absolute favorite.”

Our laughs mingle together between more sweet words and the pressing of our lips. I don’t know for sure what happens in the Afterlife, but I can’t imagine it’s anything more blissful than this.

We’ve gotten a short reprieve from the council summoning Nox daily to talk about his time in the Mortal Kingdom. I know that he’s creating a barrier between their questions and me, but I can see what he won’t confess—it’s starting to wear him down.

“If the council wants to meet with me, I will do it. Not doing so makes it feel like we have something to hide,” I tell him as we walk to the training grounds.

“We do have something to hide, Rhea, and that is precisely why I don’t want them to interrogate you.”

“Do you not trust me enough to know how to respond to their questions?” I try to keep my tone light, but it’s impossible to deny the pinprick of hurt in my chest. I know everything Nox does for me— everything— comes from a place of love and needing to keep me safe, but talking with the council seems like an easy way to eliminate one of the major worries I know he holds.

“Hey.” His voice is gentle as he lays a hand on my forearm to pause our steps. “That’s not it at all. It has nothing to do with you and everything to do with the fact that I know they will pick you apart. There is a reason they wanted to suggest the betrothal to Haylee. Her uncle is on the council, and he is an affluent member of the kingdom. On paper, to them , it strengthens the kingdom to have the two of us as rulers.”

I swallow a bitter knot down as I nod my head. “And on paper, it’s less so for you to marry a supposed commoner.”

His head tilts to the side, a concerned look drawing his brows together. “You know I don’t care about that. I don’t love you because you happen to be a princess, and the council can do nothing about it but annoy me with their questions. I don’t want to subject you to that. They will not be kind about it.” He speaks as if from experience, and my stomach sinks at the thought of him enduring their tongue lashings at my expense. He forces a smirk to lift the corner of his mouth as he glides his fingers down my arm. “Don’t give me that look, Sunshine. It’s not anything I’m not used to, nor is it anything that keeps me up at night.”

“But it makes sense for them to want to question me, doesn’t it? For safety? You could help prepare me for it. I just— I don’t like having to lie more than we already do. If interviewing me gets the council off your back and makes them feel more comfortable about our arrangement , then I don’t see why I shouldn’t do it.”

His smirk falls slowly as he studies me, likely trying to think of a reason that will convince me that it’s better to let him carry the weight of this invisible burden. But I can’t let him do that, not after what we promised to each other.

Rising up onto my toes, I cradle his face in my hands. “Nox, I’m not interested in standing by and letting life happen to me anymore. I know you want to bear this responsibility on your own, but you can’t ask me to let you in to help if you aren’t willing to do the same for me.”

I had already done so much in the weeks since I woke up from my time in the Middle that I never thought I would. I felt bolder than ever, stronger than ever. Which wasn’t exactly saying much when the bar of measurement for those things was so low, but it felt like it could be enough to do this too.

“I don’t deserve you,” he whispers as he wraps his arms tightly around me, squeezing me to his chest.

“You are more deserving than anyone in this existence. There is only you.” I repeat his words back to him before grazing his lips with my own. Our kiss is gentle and sweet, a language spoken and understood that is all our own.

When we separate, Nox nods his head in concession. “Okay. I will help prepare you to meet with the council.”

Cassius meets us on the training grounds, and we spend the rest of the day working on my Forms. I’m waiting for that moment where I feel as good as Nox looks after one of his own sparring sessions with Cassius, but so far, all I’ve managed to feel is exhaustion.

After a ten minute cool down, which mostly involves Nox rubbing my sore muscles and infusing his magic into them to take the pain away, I’m led towards a table of different weapons that Cassius set up before Nox and I arrived.

“Okay, Blondie,” he says, clapping his hands out in front of him. “Everyone in the Mage Kingdom goes through basic weapons training where they learn to handle each of these with beginner-level skill. However, many choose to hone in on a specialty. Bahira’s is the spear, while Nox is a master swordsman. I, myself, am not too bad with daggers.” He slips a short dagger from its sheath on the broad dark leather strap going across his chest. Most of what Cassius wears is leather armor, the material covering all the major points of contact on his body—shoulders, torso, and thighs. He also has leather vambraces that lace up from his wrist to his elbows. Beneath the leather, he wears tunics of varying colors—today’s is dark green—and black trousers. He flips the dagger across his knuckles before catching it by its metal tip and then extending it out hilt first to me. “See how it feels in your hand.”

Impressed, I wrap my fingers around the silver and black stone handle, the slender dagger uniquely beautiful.

“I could teach you the art of slashing your enemies up close. It’s an intimate way to watch the light leave someone’s eyes.” His eyebrows tip inward towards his nose, a feline expression pulling the corners of his mouth up.

My eyes widen as I stare at him until Nox barks out a laugh and shoves Cassius in the shoulder. “The only thing Cass has ever witnessed dying is his own pride every time he fails to woo a potential partner.”

“Hey!” his best friend shouts, throwing his arms out to the side.

I laugh, holding his dagger back out to him. “Maybe something a little less intimate ,” I suggest, turning back to the table. There are swords of all sizes—some so long that they might be two-thirds of my own height.

“Shortswords might be a good place to start,” Nox states, seeing where my eyes have gone.

But those don’t exactly feel right either, the glistening blades too similar to the weapons used by the King’s Guard. Despite Cassius’ teasing, I don’t want to train with a weapon purely for the ability to kill someone. I want to learn so that I can defend myself. Maybe it is stupid to think of those things as being distinctly different, but to me, they are. I take note of the many intricate daggers, some have pommels filled with sparkling multicolored jewels and swirling designs in different hues of metal. There are wooden clubs that look like they weigh more than I do, short axes and hammers, and even a spiked metal ball attached to a wooden handle by a chain. I am drawn to none of them, and it isn’t until I reach the very end of the table that I find something that sparks my interest.

My fingers brush against the feathered end of an arrow as Cassius leans his hip against the table’s edge, his eyes dancing with glee. “A bow? I like it,” he says with a playful nod, picking up the large curved bow and handing it to me. “Yes, I think this is a very good choice. Don’t you, Nox?”

My gaze lifts to his as he dips his chin, a glorious smile on his handsome face. “An archer. It’s perfect, Sunshine.”

They spend the remaining daylight hours teaching me all about how to nock an arrow, swapping the larger bow for one that looks like it’s fit for a child. My feeble arms are still too weak to draw it back very far. Despite how poorly my attempts start, there is a sense of rightness within me at learning to wield this weapon. Maybe it is intuition, or perhaps even Selene guiding me somehow, but as we pack up the weapons, the sun now resting for the day and the moon high in the nighttime sky, I can’t help but feel a trickle of pride work its way into my heart.