Page 46 of Once the Skies Fade (Immortal Reveries #2)

Chapter 46

Matthias

E very part of me ached from today’s trial. The healers had done their best to patch up the gash in my calf, but they could do little to help the fatigue that had settled into every other muscle. Thankfully, I walked into my room to discover dinner and a hot bath waiting for me. The queen and this tournament may have seemed bent on pushing us to our deaths, but at least we were provided some comfort until then.

Kicking my boots off, I pulled my shirt up over my head as I walked toward the tub set up in the alcove opposite the hearth where a fire crackled hungrily. I had just started to slide my pants down when something moved out of the corner of my eye. Deep shadows—darker than expected even with the moonlight streaming in—gathered on the far wall where the tapestry hung.

I stood still. Staring into the darkness, I had that same inkling I’d had back in the forest.

I was being watched.

The hair on my arms and neck rose. I couldn’t see her, but I could sense her.

That scent of ripe fruit and violets was subtle yet intoxicating. It could have simply been a lingering trace of her on my clothes from the other day, but with those tossed in the laundry basket in the corner, that was unlikely.

No, the queen was here.

Watching.

Could this be part of the tournament? Was the queen spying on each of us? Testing to see how we’d react?

Pushing out a slow, exaggerated breath, I shrugged. In one quick motion, I shoved my pants to the ground and stepped out of them, grinning at the faint sound of a gasp. Perhaps it was my own ego making me imagine it––after all, it wouldn’t have been the first time I had elicited such a reaction.

When I reached the tub, I dipped a hand into the water and swirled it around gently, but I didn’t get in.

“Hey, Killer,” I said quietly, keeping my eyes on the inviting water.

Silence answered me.

Except for a quietly quickening pulse, barely audible, but clear now that I was listening for it.

“I distinctly remember saying you don’t need to use your shadows to ogle me,” I said, giving a breathy laugh. I stepped a foot into the bath and slowly climbed in, sinking lower until all of my sore muscles were submerged in the steaming waters.

“You’re welcome to join me if you like,” I crooned as I lay my head back and closed my eyes. “Plenty of room for two.”

For a while I simply lay there, letting my muscles relax in the heat, wondering how long it would take for her to find the nerve to step out of her shadows and speak to me. Rolling the kinks out of my neck, I waited, listening to her quiet heartbeat dancing along with mine.

I had nearly convinced myself that my mind was playing tricks on me and that she wasn’t actually here, when her whisper sliced through the silence, much closer than I expected.

“You’re filthy,” she breathed, pulling my eyes open. Staring down at me, she seemed to be struggling to keep her gaze locked on my face.

I flashed her a smirk. “You have no idea, Killer.”

At this her eyes indeed shifted lower, and I could have sworn she was fighting to hide a smile.

She cocked her hip out and rested a hand on it. “Did my staff not provide you any soap? Or do you just expect water alone to suffice?”

Lifting my arms out of the water, I rested them along the edges of the tub. “Oh, there’s soap around here somewhere. Want to find it for me?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. You can find it yourself.”

“Where’s the fun in that though?” I asked, reaching my fingers out until they just grazed the soft fabric of her dress. A little further, and I managed to pinch a bit of it and tug, urging her to move closer.

“I’ve already had a bath,” she insisted, though by the look of her dry hair, that must have been hours ago.

“Is there some rule that you can only have one per day?”

“I have no need of a second one.”

“They’re not just for cleaning, you know,” I said.

She pursed her lips and trailed her gaze down over my arms and chest before finding my eyes again. “Perhaps they should be, in your case.”

I couldn’t help but laugh softly, nodding. “Perhaps you’re right.”

Sitting up, I shifted in the tub and leaned over the side opposite from the queen. A small table had been situated there with all manner of soaps and oils and salts, all more complicated than any male needed, honestly. I selected one of each, and swiveled back to Calla, cradling the items in my hands.

Her face twisted with incredulity. “You said you lost the soap in the water.”

“No, I didn’t. I said it was around here somewhere, and so it was.” I lifted my hands to her and shifted my expression into one of pleading innocence. “Any chance you can show me how to use these?”

“You don’t know how to use soap?” Her eyes were wild with skepticism.

“Don’t be silly. Of course I do, but what are these other things for?”

Slowly, Calla lowered herself to kneel beside the bath, taking a moment to move her dress out of her way before taking the two bottles from my hand. Reading the labels, she wrinkled her nose in disgust.

“These will never work together. What else did they leave you?”

Reaching back over to the table, I collected the remaining four bottles and offered them to her in my open palms. Gingerly she fingered the bottles’ labels, humming sweetly to herself, and I couldn’t help but watch her as she concentrated on something as frivolous as bathing scents. Her forehead crinkled in the middle, and the corners of her lips twitched. Finally, she plucked two of them from my hands and waved away the others.

She set one on the floor beside her, and then carefully removed the stopper on the other, slowly pouring a small amount of oil into the water. A warm, sensual fragrance surrounded me, slightly sweet and intoxicating. Replacing the stopper, she placed that bottle next to the first as she used her free hand to swirl the water, her fingers coming dangerously close to brushing my thigh.

“What is that one?” I asked, my voice not nearly as strong and controlled as it should have been.

“Amber,” she said as she retrieved the other bottle filled with tiny grains. She proceeded to sprinkle the light green salt into the bath, once again swirling the water with her hand as she spoke. “Balsam salt. Ideally added with the water to allow it to dissolve before you get in, but it should still help you relax.”

She started to pull her hand from the water, but I caught it with mine, not really sure what I was planning to do next and surprised that she didn’t retreat from my touch.

“Thank you,” I said. “Not just for this, but for what you did for Oryn, too. I heard he was sent home to his family today.”

Calla only offered a slight smile as she bowed her head. She started to pull away, but I squeezed her hand in mine, holding her fast. I met her gaze, expecting to see the usual wary discomfort she displayed around the competitors, but there was no sign of it in her deep brown eyes now.

Maybe it was the flickering lamp light—maybe I was simply imagining it—but there was a longing there I had only witnessed once since we’d met. Like she wanted to surrender, to give in. Like she hungered for something more than the empty loneliness life had dealt her.

“Could you help me, Killer?” I asked, holding the soap toward her. “I can’t reach my back with how broken that last trial left me.”

“What happened?” she asked, slipping her hand from mine.

I lifted my leg out of the water to show her the gash in my calf. “Just a little love tap from a friend,” I said, too tired now to feign any humor.

A low rumble pulled my attention. She scowled at my wound, and the muscle along her jaw pulsed fiercely.

“It’s noth—” I started to assure her I was fine, but her gaze quickly snapped to mine.

“Who did this?” She growled out the words, sounding more like an agitated bear than a grieving queen.

I shrugged, trying to hide my wince as I lowered my leg back under the water. “Isa handled him already.”

“A name, general,” she demanded, her dark eyes burning into mine. “Some things demand…royal treatment.”

“He’s already had the pleasure of receiving such treatment, actually,” I noted.

Understanding flashed across her face, and I half-expected her to immediately stand and rush out the door to find Korben. But she didn’t, and instead she glanced down at her lap, her jaw still working steadily as she seemed to focus on her breathing. I was about to apologize—why, I wasn’t sure—but she was soon lifting herself up onto her knees and reaching to take the soap from me.

My heartbeat quickened, and she hadn’t even touched me yet. I chided myself for being so easily swayed by such a simple action, but when she dipped both hands with the soap into the water, her knuckles skimming along my hip, I had to remind myself how to fucking breathe.

“The ring you wear,” she said. “Does it hold any significance?”

Lifting my hand so she could see it, I explained, “It was my father’s. Passed down through the generations. Supposedly brings good luck, though I don’t ascribe to that type of thinking.”

“It’s kept you alive this long,” she said softly.

I shrugged. “I’ve kept myself alive. Well, with the help of Connor and our soldiers. And you.”

An oddly comfortable silence fell between us, and then she released a light sigh that conjured a ripple of flutters across my bare skin. Her touch was light at first, fingertips trailing up my arm and over my shoulder, and I shifted sideways to allow her easier access to my back. Then the soap slipped across my upper back and over the other shoulder, and I couldn’t contain the traitorous sigh that escaped me as I closed my eyes. She glided the soap along my skin in slow circles that became long strokes.

“What’s this tattoo?” she asked.

I cleared my throat. “A laurel branch.”

“For victory in the war?”

I shook my head slowly. “For my niece, Lorynne. So I’d remember what I was fighting for.”

“And the letters?” She traced over them with her finger. “G.H. A lover’s initials, perhaps?”

I might have chuckled more at the slight tinge of jealousy in her voice, but the memory of Gabriel dying on that battlefield flashed in my mind, dampening my spirits.

“For Lorynne’s father, Gabriel Hawthorne. He was my sister’s husband.”

“Was,” she echoed in a whisper, and I nodded.

“Killed during the war.”

“Were you there?”

I nodded again, my throat tightening against my will. I hadn’t lied when I told Connor that I’d dealt with this pain, that it had ceased to hurt, that I’d moved on. But, somehow, Calla’s touch—and the reminder that she possessed the same powers that had killed him—seemed to split that wound open again.

Could I tell her how he’d died? How would she react?

“What happened?” she asked, tentatively. When I didn’t answer right away, she added, “You don’t have to talk about it. I shouldn’t have?—”

“A Shadow Keeper,” I said, cutting off her apology. Her hands stilled on my back, but she didn’t retreat. For a handful of breaths neither of us moved, until I dared to peer over my shoulder to see how she was faring.

Her expression was blank, similar to when she’d collapsed in the forest that first day, but different, more in control. Her shadows were contained this time, though she wore that same lost stare.

I turned around to face her, encouraging her to move her hands to the edge of the tub, the soap slipping from her fingers and sliding down into the water. I rested my hand on hers, brushing it with my thumb as I tried to search her eyes for any hint as to what she was thinking or feeling.

“It’s okay, Killer. It was a long time ago.”

“Don’t call me that right now,” she whispered, looking straight through me.

“Alright, Calla. What can I do?” I asked, not really sure what to expect from her.

“This was a mistake,” she said, standing. She turned, not for the door, but for the tapestry on the back wall where I’d seen her shadows.

Without thinking, I rose and stepped out of the tub, ignoring how the air chilled my skin. All I knew was I couldn’t let her leave. She stopped mid-stride but didn’t turn to face me, instead dropping her chin to her chest, her hands clenching into fists at her sides.

I approached slowly, noting how the muscles in her shoulders tensed with each step I took. She didn’t move, but her pulse raced, gradually growing quicker the closer I got. When my chest was nearly touching her back, her breath hitched, and she swallowed hard.

“You came here for a reason, Calla,” I said, sending my words to warm her ear. She trembled, leaning slightly back against me before straightening away again. “Why?”

Being this close to her, her overwhelmingly sweet scent lit an unwanted fire in my core. When my body responded to the blaze, she shocked me by leaning back, pressing her backside into me. Slowly, she rolled her hips, and fucking stars, I couldn’t stop my eyes from closing. Or my hands from finding her waist.

She slid her chin over her shoulder as she continued to shift and roll and press against me.

Her voice came out husky with lust, little more than a ragged breath. “You said you were mine to handle, when I need a release.”

That had been a joke meant to rile her dragon guard, not an invitation, but now that she was here, no matter the logic that screamed a warning in my mind, my need—pulsing and growing within me—would not let me deny her.

“So I did,” I said, brushing one hand over her stomach, daring to inch higher and higher, ever so slowly, expecting her to stop me at any moment. My fingers trailed over her breast and slipped inside her dress. She shuddered as I grazed over her pebbled peak, pinching it lightly. My lips caressed her ear, and I breathed out the question, “And does my Killer need a release now?”

I realized my use of the nickname too late, but she only rolled harder against me, her head falling back against my shoulder, offering the tender skin of her neck to me. Dropping my mouth lower, I nipped at her skin, dragging my teeth down to her bare shoulder. When I pulled back, I noted the hint of ink trailing across her shoulder blade and sliding underneath her dress. Trailing my finger along it, I opened my mouth to compliment the design—vines of thorned ivy—but she spoke first.

“I need a distraction, general,” she whispered. She reached one hand up, tangling her fingers in my hair. “Can you give me that?”

The sweet scent of brandy coated her words, and I froze. “How much have you had to drink?”

She stilled, and for a moment I worried I’d offended her, but she finally whispered. “Enough for me to ignore every reason I shouldn’t be here, but not so much you should feel guilty for giving me what I want.”

“Well then, distraction is my specialty,” I said, kissing her neck and shifting my hand to explore her other breast. She hummed, her chest thrumming against my hand, but then she stepped away from me.

I didn’t resist, letting my hands slip away from her body and raising them in total and utter surrender. A brief warning flashed in my mind, wondering if she might be here to kill me as she possibly had her husband. But when she turned, her tear-soaked eyes finding mine, I saw no danger, no risk, only a desperate desire to escape.

I could be that escape for her.

She held my gaze as she undid the laces down to her waist, and her tongue peeked out to wet her lips as she slowly gathered her dress in her hands, lifting it ever higher until she slipped it off completely and dropped it to the floor. She wore no shift beneath, wore nothing at all, and simply seeing her standing there in all her bare confidence was a delight in itself.

When I met her gaze again, any trace of tears had vanished, and now she wore a sly smirk on her lips. Slowly she backed away until she hit the tapestry, beckoning me forward with a curve of her finger. As I complied, her shadows slipped loose, spilling from her palms. I waited for them to come for me, but instead the dark trail of shadows caressed her skin, over her torso, down her hips. When they slipped between her legs, she laid her head back against the wall, her mouth parting to let her ragged breath escape. She held my gaze as her shadows moved over her skin, pulling a moan from her chest. If I wasn’t careful, she was going to undo me before I ever got to feel her.

“On your knees, general,” she commanded as her shadows slipped down her thighs, lifting her leg out to one side to invite me to taste her glistening center.

I ignored my own throbbing need and knelt at the queen’s feet. Her shadows shifted her leg up over my shoulder before slipping under my chin and gently nudging my head up. If I’d thought she was intoxicating before, it was nothing compared to being this close, breathing in her warmth. Trailing one hand along her raised thigh, I kissed the other, teasing her with my breath and tongue and teeth as I moved closer to her center.

With a sensuous, impatient growl, Calla slid down the wall, her shadows holding me against her—as if I had any desire to stop now. My own needy groan hummed past my lips as they found her bundle of nerves, relishing in the way her hips moved against my mouth. And when I finally let my tongue slip out to taste her, I lifted my eyes to see her head tilted up, one hand fisting her dark hair, her other holding her breast where her thumb worked heavenly circles.

I couldn’t get enough of this female, who tasted sweeter than any other I’d enjoyed over the years. I was so engrossed in drawing out her whimpers, in savoring her, that I didn’t notice her shadows—sensual and warm now, instead of the icy cold I’d experienced before—had moved down my chest and torso to where my body begged for release, their heat caressing every inch of me. Her darkness seemed to react to my need, moving with me as I pushed both of us toward that blissful end we both craved.

I worked my tongue and fingers faster against her, inside her, all the while her shadows kept pace along my length. Moving with her rolling hips, I fed off the sound of her pleasure filling my ears, my room, my world. I wanted nothing more in that moment than to give her everything she wanted, anything she needed, whatever she demanded. With our heartbeats racing together, our groans building off one another, we soared over that edge together, a perfect harmony of ecstasy. I gripped her thigh, still teasing her as her warmth tensed around me and my body trembled against her shadows, until we both stilled.

Slipping her leg off of my shoulder, I pulled away from her, my hands holding her waist, as I rose to my feet. Her shadows slowly retreated back into her palms, now pressed against the wall by her sides. When she finally opened her eyes to find me staring at her, a thin smile graced her perfect lips, but when I moved closer to claim those lips for myself, she stopped me with fingers pressed to my mouth.

She shook her head.

“That will do, general.”

Stepping past me, she gathered up her dress and slipped it over her head. She looked back once, not at me, but at the tapestry-covered wall behind me. Huffing out an annoyed breath, she turned and walked out into the hallway without another word.