Page 75 of Her Soul for a Crown

Anula touched the empty place at her throat and glanced in the gilt mirror.

Tendrils of jasmine laced their way past the blood-and-grime-soaked sari discarded on the floor and wove into her long tresses. The scent of smoke leached out. The anxiety did not.

Breathing deep, she wrapped her robe tighter and hunched over a bowl of water, sinking a cloth inside.

With the inner city half-burnt, there’d be no cleansing ceremony in the Kuttam Pokuna bathhouse with oils and prayers.

Mercifully. It wasn’t as though masking herself with perfumes would help her rule.

She wrung out the water and began to scrub, her gaze fixed on her face in the mirror, not on the lack of mehendhi.

“You are going to take a layer of flesh off, if you continue like that,” a voice said behind her.

“A new skin for a new Age,” she scoffed, until the knowing spiked her senses. That voice—she’d heard it before. She dropped the cloth.

“I expected something less macabre for your first act as raejina.”

Anula spun. Before her stood not a specter nor a ghost nor a shadow.

Sharp chin and sharp jaw. A long, rounded nose. Wide, full lips. Thick, luscious lashes and heavy brows curtaining—

Saffron eyes.

Her heart sped as she took him in. His midnight hair, his bronze skin.

His. His. His.

Shadow made flesh.

“How?” she whispered. “I thought you were dead.”

“I was,” Reeri said, saffron ablaze. “You saved us. The cosmos was reborn, the Heavens rebalanced. It is the same and yet new, all it was ever meant to be.”

Anula’s heart squeezed. “And your Yakkas?”

A smile lifted the side of his face. It was vibrant. “Free. Alive. The new Lord has granted them permission to descend when they are called to Earth through a bargain. No tethering necessary. No human possession required.”

Hope flickered. “You can come whenever I call?”

“The Yakkas can, yet the Lord is bound by the balance of the cosmos.”

She held her breath. “And who is the Lord?”

Reeri’s smile slipped. “You may call me ‘Lord Reeri, the Blood Yakka, of the Second Heavens.’”

Anula’s hands numbed. “Then is this it?”

“No,” he said quickly. “Unless you wish it be.”

“No,” Anula nearly shouted.

Light returned to his saffron eyes. “Then this is not the end.” He shifted, suddenly nervous and awkward, clearing his throat and glancing at her through long lashes. “The Lord’s fetter rebalanced as well. I may return once a year, during the Maha season.”

Anula’s heart skipped a beat. She stepped closer, the scent of cinnamon and rainwater wafting over her. “The whole season?”

He nodded.

“You can stay with me half the year?”

“If you wish.”

The answer rose quickly, but she paused. This shouldn’t be a choice all her own. She bit her lip. “And what do you wish?”

Reeri let out a heavy sigh, as though a dam finally breaking and the water released. “I wish to stay, Anula. I wish to stay by your side until your dying breath and every day into eternity.”

The words crashed into her, set her heart free.

She leaped into him. He caught her with strong arms and squeezed tight.

Anula’s fingers curled against his spine as she buried her face into his shoulder.

His nose trailed up her neck, breathing her in.

Every sense narrowed to his touch. She never wanted him to let go.

“I love you,” she whispered into his ear.

“I loved you before I knew what love was,” Reeri replied.

The words soaked through her and watered her soul. She kissed his neck and then his cheek, his jaw, his chin, his nose. And finally, she pressed her lips to Reeri’s. Warm and soft and gentle.

“Everything a kiss was meant to be,” he breathed against her.

“No,” Anula purred. “It’s so much more.” She pressed harder into him, thirst swelling. They stumbled into the table, knocking the bowl and drenching her robe.

Reeri lifted her by her roundness, carried her across the chamber, and dropped her on the bed.

She couldn’t kiss him fast enough, hard enough, to keep up with the need roaring within her.

He growled softly and tore the sash from her robe.

It spilled open, baring her naked body. Reeri gazed upon her, hunger flashing in his saffron eyes.

A tremor rippled along his arms. “You are beautiful.”

Heat grew at her core. He dipped his head, making a trail of kisses on her neck, her collarbone, sending a sizzle across her breasts as he licked and nipped. She moaned as her nipples hardened beneath his tongue, groaned as he suckled. Warmth pooled between her legs.

He traced her curves and the arc of her hips.

Gooseflesh prickled, her body trembling.

His tongue flicked out, licking her from nipple to navel, tasting every inch.

She dragged her hands through his silken hair.

A groan quivered his lips. He breathed her name as he made his way down one thigh, lifting her leg onto his shoulder and spreading her wide.

She trembled with anticipation, but he paused, his mouth finding hers again. Gentler this time.

Anula groaned, and he pressed a finger between her legs. She ground against him, begging him to go harder, faster, and when it still wasn’t enough, she grabbed his hardness.

Reeri shuddered. “Are you sure?”

She pulled his hand from her legs and sucked his wet fingers. A growl vibrated his body. He spread her wide, and his head slipped below her hips. With deliberate slowness, he kissed her opening and blew a cool breath.

Anula whimpered. Once, twice, until she was pleading.

And then he gave her what she desired.

His tongue sent a shiver along her spine, igniting the heat at her core. He moved first in circles, tempting and teasing. The sensation tingled over her body, washing her with want and need and a kindling drenched in oil. He flicked and licked rhythmically, ripening her bud.

“Yes,” she moaned.

The heat built within her, her toes curling with every circle, her hips grinding with the music he played on her folds.

Faster he moved, stroking and nipping. Anula arched up, thrashing under his spell, until she was begging to be set on fire, praying to be taken completely, cursing at the stars watching from above, until finally, she broke like a monsoon cloud, pouring out.

“Cursed,” she breathed when the deluge ended. “Yakkas.”

“Yes?” Reeri reappeared, kissing the inside of her legs and then her torso, making his way to her lips, the scent of her on his mouth.

“Now is not the time for jests,” she said, chest heaving.

He chuckled, a languid smile softening sharp features, entirely satisfied with himself. “What is it time for, then?”

Anula wrapped her legs around his waist and flipped over, straddling him. She bent forward and pressed a kiss to his neck, then his jaw, following it with her tongue.

“Wait,” Reeri breathed. He brushed the spray of her hair to one side, cupped her seat, and slid her back to the bed. He wrapped her in his arms and whispered, “We have our entire lives to explore each other; mayhap we save something for tomorrow.”

Anula pouted, her lips swollen, above and below.

But he had a point. There was no rush, and she intended to explore every inch of him.

She settled into his chest, memorizing its planes and the prickle of his hair, the way his arms made her feel safe, the way he smelled like home, and the way the fire within her burned steadily, satisfied and wanting simultaneously.

She would kiss him every hour of the day, touch him twice as often, just as she had dreamed.

They held each other for hours, or minutes, Anula didn’t know which, nor did she care. Reeri ran his fingers through her hair, humming a tune in the language of the cosmos.

“You will be radiant in a crown,” he said.

Anula’s eyes flashed open. Her ease guttered.

Reeri paused, noticing the change. “I believe I promised you one, or do you not wish to complete our bargain?”

Anula swallowed, her gaze flashing to the raja—raejina’s—crown. Spikes of moonstones and rows of rubies glimmered threateningly. “Fate said ours was gone. That I owe an oath to the Divinities now.”

“Yes, that is true. Yet as long as I exist, I will keep my promises to you, Anula.”

Fear twisted up her spine, quick as a viper and just as deadly.

“Do you want the crown?”

“No. Yes.” Anula groaned and buried her face in a pillow.

A gentle hand rested on her back, rubbing soft circles across her shoulders and down her spine. She braced herself for the blessed gift to speak. Only to remember that it had been taken to mend.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Reeri asked softly.

One look and she was undone. Wrapping her arms around his waist, she buried her face into the curly hairs of his chest. “Yes, I do. What if I’m not any better than a usurper? I could make more mistakes, destroy the kingdom instead of rebuild it, and fail everyone.”

“Those are good fears.”

“How can fear be good?”

“It has come to my attention that when we fear letting others down, it actually shows our love. And if all we do comes from love, then have we not already begun in victory?”

“You sound so sure.”

“I am, because we proved this. We loved and we won.”

“But how am I supposed to do that again, and again and again, every single day of my reign?”

“Did we win alone? No, we won together, and with others. The cosmos created communion for this very purpose. We get to partner with others to do impossible tasks. The weight is not solely on you, Anula, because you are not alone. You must only look and see.”

Faces flashed in Anula’s mind. Kattadiya, courtier, soldier, citizen. Reeri. Who else would she add? Not that she was making lists. Though it was comforting to know who her allies were and who might become her friend.

“I believe in you, Anula,” Reeri whispered. “In your heart and your soul.”