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Chapter 24

Morgana

L eon is unusually pensive as we travel back to our lodgings, and more than once I catch him looking at me as if I’m a puzzle he can’t work out. It unnerves me, almost as much as the blood I saw him handing over. Etusca once told me the dryads only practice a few types of blood magic normally—the kind of simple test that was done on me in Elmere, for example.

But Leon didn’t come to Hallowbane for something any old healer would be willing to do. So what was he doing with that blood? And who does it belong to? I suspect it might be one of those mysteries I never get an answer to.

Everyone seems glad when we’re back at our suite in Corrin’s gambling den. The soldiers sink down onto the soft poufs and chaises in the lounge with groans of satisfaction, shucking off their boots and pouring themselves more wine.

“This one’s mine and Phaia’s,” Damia says, peeking into the rooms and picking what I suspect is the nicest one. “Alastor, you can bunk in with us.”

The blond fae sighs with relief. “Thank the gods. I thought I was going to have to share with these reprobates.”

“Hey,” Stratton tosses an apple at his head that Alastor catches. “We’re a delight to room with.”

“Only if you don’t mind an unholy mess and a distinct lack of grooming,” Alastor says, his eyes sliding toward Eryx. “You know I’m all for some good man musk, but even I have my limits.”

Hyllus coughs in a way that sounds suspiciously like a stifled snicker.

I watch them enviously as they settle in after their long day. I wish I could relax like them, but the things I’ve learned in the last few hours keep running through my head.

Leon notices, of course, brushing past me as he heads to one of the unclaimed rooms.

“Come talk with me,” he says.

I don’t know if I should follow, if it’s right to keep putting myself in situations where I’m alone with him. But I’ve been so untethered today I’m desperate for that grounding influence again, that still, solid presence he embodies.

I follow him to the room, where he’s leaning against the wall, far from the bed. I risk sitting down on the soft mattress, meeting his gaze.

“How are you doing?” he asks.

Just the question makes me want to crumple inward. It’s hard to be strong when you’re on your own, and it’s even harder when someone comes along and offers you a kind word or listening ear. It can break down all your defenses in an instant.

“I feel so betrayed,” I say, letting the words pour out of me. “I knew my parents didn’t care about me—at least not in the way parents should. But Etusca was supposed to be the one I could trust. She was all I had for so long, and now all that time we spent together doesn’t feel real—how can it be, when nothing she told me was real?”

“She stayed with you a long time for a dryad,” he says. “I’m not making excuses for her, of course. But that means something. Some of her care for you had to be real.”

I nod miserably. “I felt so bad when she started getting sick from being away from the Miravow.”

“Do you know where she is now?” he asks.

“I hope she’s gone home,” I say. “But it’s possible she’s still at the palace in Elmere, wondering where I am.”

Even the thought of her worrying about me gives me a stab of guilt.

“A huge part of me still wants to believe maybe she didn’t know what she was doing,” I continue. “Or that she had reasons that would make sense if I heard her explain them. But is that me looking for the truth or wanting to ignore reality?”

“You’re hoping people turn out to be better than they seem,” Leon says. “Most of us do that when it comes to the people we love. We hang onto that stubborn idea.” He pushes off from the wall, straightening. “But that doesn’t mean we should be complacent. Whatever her intentions, your nursemaid has given you a gift. You’re powerful, Ana, and that’s why you must keep training. You can protect yourself if you work at mastering your magic.”

“And what about you?” I ask, remembering the things he’s kept from me—the things he’s decided to leave unspoken. I lean back on my hands, staring into his eyes with a hint of challenge. “Are you better than you seem? Or are you one of those people I need to protect myself from?”

He stalks toward me, his eyes dark as storm clouds.

“I can’t be the judge of that,” he says. “But maybe you should ask yourself if you really want protection from me. Because I’ve seen your dreams, princess, and they weren’t about me keeping my distance from you.”

He stops in front of me, his legs nearly touching mine, and I know he’s inviting me to cross that line the way I do in my fantasies.

“I’m starting to think this whole kidnapping thing was just an elaborate ruse to get me to spend a night in your bed.” I smirk, stretching lazily, my body arching toward him. I see his eyes drop to my breasts, pupils dilating with lust.

“Believe me, after a night in my bed, I wouldn’t have needed to kidnap you,” he says. “You would’ve walked straight out of that palace of your own accord, begging me to take you again.”

I swallow, a little lost for words, until his smug smile pulls me out of it.

“Confident, aren’t you?” I say, standing and closing the distance between us until I can feel the heat of his breath on my face. The last time his mouth was on me, it erased all other thoughts. It made me feel strong and alive. After the blows I’ve been dealt today, I want to feel that way again.

“Of course I’m confident,” he says, the rumble of his voice making my nerves jump. My eyes fall to his lips, and his hand reaches for the back of my neck. “I already know exactly the sound you make—what you taste like—when you come for me.”

Then he pulls my face to his, our lips colliding in a bruising crash. My hands fist in his shirt, and I moan as he slips his tongue into my mouth, taking control as he tilts my head back for deeper access. It’s only a few steps backward to the bed, and he guides me there with his body, pushing me down.

I reach out to pull him down with me, but he resists, kneeling above me.

“Now if you ask very nicely, I’ll make you come again,” he says. His hand slides under my skirt, caressing my knee before he trails his fingers up my leg. They stop at my thigh, his thumb rubbing small circles. Even that makes me twitch, and he grins at my sensitivity.

I roll my eyes, trying not to show how much he affects me, but my body wakes up more with each word he speaks, each tantalizing image he plants in my head, every touch that shivers over my skin. I couldn’t walk away now any more than I could fly out of here. He has me right where he wants me. And where I want me too.

Because two can play this game.

I sit up, reaching out for his shirt, ripping open some of the buttons to expose an expanse of tan skin. Gods , his body is perfect, and I don’t hesitate to follow my impulse, dropping my head to lick across his abs.

Leon hisses with pleasure as I work my way up to his neck, nipping at the taut skin, then lapping the spot with my tongue. I let out a satisfied hum when he makes a deep, feral noise in response. He doesn’t let my mouth roam for long, however, cupping a hand beneath my chin and lifting my head.

“Tell me something, Ana,” he says.

“What?” My voice comes out husky.

“In your dreams, when we were together…”

I drop my gaze, still embarrassed by the memory.

“No,” he says, lifting my chin again. “Don’t do that.” His eyes burn into mine. “Don’t be ashamed. But tell me the truth. Do you want slow? Careful? Gentle? Or…do you want it how it was in your dream?”

He dips his mouth to mine again, capturing it roughly, kissing his way up my jaw and tugging my earlobe between his teeth, before whispering into the shell of my ear.

“Tell me what you want, Ana.”

All my life, I’ve been told I’m too fragile. Too weak. In my fantasies, I’m nothing like that—I’m hungry and full of passion. In my dreams, the person I’m with knows that too. He doesn’t hold back, doesn’t want anything less than all of me, and is hungry to give me all of himself in return. No holds barred.

“Yes,” I say. “I want it like it was in the dream.”

“Good,” he purrs.

“But harder.”

He groans and it’s like I’ve cut the leash holding him back. His hands are on the back of my dress, quickly pulling the fastenings open, slipping my arms from the sleeves. I try to keep up, focusing first on his shirt and then turning my attention to his pants.

But he grabs both my wrists in one of his hands, pulling them up above my head as my back hits the mattress. My dress is still on, but it’s loose now, falling down to expose me, and with his free hand he slides it lower, baring my breasts. He cups one, his thumb teasing my nipple, making the skin dimple as a ripple of pleasure dances through me.

“Like this?” he asks.

He switches to the other breast, pinching it a little harder, making me buck and squeal with delight. My whole body’s burning, and every sensation stokes the flames higher.

He pauses, his eyes meeting mine, and I can read his unspoken question.

“Keep going,” I gasp. He’s still holding my wrists, but the rest of my body is free. I lift my leg, hooking it behind his thigh, trying to pull him in closer. He lowers himself a few inches, letting his body settle in between my legs. I wrap both legs more firmly around him, squirming against him and relishing the friction between us.

He groans as I press against his hard length.

“Take me,” I order breathlessly. “Just like you saw in my dream. I don’t need you to be careful; I can handle it.”

“I know you can,” he says, tugging the last of my dress off me so only the thin fabric of my underwear remains. “And I’ll give you what you want. What we both want.”

His hand dips between my legs, lips curving into a smirk as he feels that I’m soaking wet. He rips my underwear off, the cool air brushing against my wet, sensitive flesh. My entire body thrums with anticipation that explodes into pleasure when he slides two fingers inside me and scissors them like he did before. Before I can respond, his thumb is strumming on my clit, the vibration doing things to my insides. He pumps his fingers in and out, his thumb pinching my needy flesh.

He's playing me like some damn instrument and I want more.

I gasp, my legs locking as he twists and curls his fingers upward, brushing against my inner walls. He keeps his promise—he’s not slow or gentle—but the precision of his touch has me writhing with every quick thrust of his clever fingers. He twists his hand again, his palm presses down on my clit and he grinds against me as if he’s trying to drive me insane, one intense sensation at a time. I rip one of my hands free from his grip, grabbing a handful of bed sheet to help me ride out the intensity of my pleasure.

Then, just when I’m teetering on the precipice, he withdraws.

“Fuck!” I growl—half frustrated, half overwhelmed by the pleasure still tingling through me.

“Don’t worry princess, that’s coming.”

Leon reaches into the pants I half unbuttoned earlier and frees his straining cock. I bite my lip, thinking of taking all that inside me. My eyes roam over every hard, beautiful inch of it, and the ache at my core intensifies.

“Don’t be gentle,” I remind him, my eyes climbing up his body to meet his.

He makes a noise like all his birthdays have just come at once and wraps an arm around me, flipping me over and pulling me onto my knees. Eager and desperate, I lean back to grind against him, rubbing against the hard head of his cock. He growls and seizes my hip, then he thrusts forward.

I bury my head into the sheets to muffle my cry as he fills me. The pressure is exquisite—just the perfect amount of pain with my pleasure, stretching me, setting my nerves alight. Then he pulls back and drives into me again, making my whole body quiver.

“That’s it, princess. You can take this. You’re so strong.” He says the last three words in time with his thrusts, using a bruising grip on my hips to pull himself deeper.

I can’t think beyond his words in my ear, telling me how good I am, how well I take him, as he batters the bundle of nerves within me, edging me back toward the climax he denied me before.

“Leon,” I gasp, and he slows a fraction, making me hiss with displeasure. “Don’t. Stop.”

He laughs, delighted.

“Still not enough for you? You want more, princess?” he asks and lifts my lower half off the bed so I dangle in his relentless grasp. This puts his cock at a new angle. I release a moan so high and loud I even startle myself.

“Leon,” I plead. “So close.”

“Not yet. Stay with me, Ana,” he says, but I can feel my nerves reaching their crescendo now, darkness dancing at the edge of my vision.

My nerves are pulled tight as pleasure coils inside me. If I can’t release it soon, I’m convinced I’ll implode.

His hand finds where our bodies connect and slides northward, fingers ghosting across my clit. I twist under his touch, driven wild with the intensity of what he makes me feel. He passes over it again, timing the strokes with each thrust, two—three—times, and then I’m falling, squeezing my eyes shut as I careen over the edge.

My moan as I come is long and low. I wish the moment would go on forever, pleasure ricocheting off every nerve. My muscles contract around Leon as the climax rolls through me, and his voice joins mine in a roar as he follows me over the precipice.

I release a shaky breath as my climax fades. I’m oddly weightless, flying high on the ecstasy still coursing through me.

Leon wraps his body around mine and slumps down onto the bed, pulling me against him. I can feel every curve of his muscles and mentally measure the sheer size of his huge arms beside mine. To be joined with such a powerful being makes me feel strangely invincible.

I wriggle deeper into his arms as I bask in that sensation, letting it carry me into happy dreams.