Page 38

I can’t keep my eyes off Reign. Her beauty is captivating as she dances around the ballroom. I am not the only one to notice her either. Wanting to strike down every man staring at what is mine has my shadows stirring just under my skin. Then I spot Cora chatting with her. I watch, waiting, until Reign storms off toward the balcony. Just as I move to follow, Cora steps in front of me.

“Dance with me!” she says, her voice bright and insistent.

“Not now, Cora…”

“Lukene, we are to be wed. Dance with me…” She casts a pointed glance toward the throne. I follow her gaze and catch my father’s approving nod. He expects me to comply. Damn it. Sighing, I give in, leading her onto the floor. I close my eyes for a second, imagining it’s Reign in my arms as I move Cora through the steps.

“I doubt we will wed, Cora. However, on the off chance I am forced to marry you… I just want you to know that I did not choose you. That choice was taken from me.”

Her eyes narrow. There’s no affection in them. I’m just a trophy, a prize in her game to win power. Over the years, she’s grown colder, following in Vanna’s footsteps. They’re always together now. I suppose it makes sense.

Then Reign reenters, her expression tight as she downs her wine and begins to dance with James. I can’t take my eyes off her. Finally, I spin Cora away and step back. I’m done pretending.

I stride toward Reign, the room blurring into a haze of purple. She’s the only thing in focus. I cut in and begin to dance with her. I feel her anger, her pain, her frustration—her emotions press against me as if they were my own. And I hate that I am the one that caused them.

Our bodies dip, spin, and slide around the dance floor with the intensity of soldiers locked in a war. The floor is our battlefield, with each movement being a strike, a counterattack, and hesitation. There is passion and anger… and a fragile truce in our steps—both of us feeling vulnerable yet submitting to each other. Each movement fills us with desire, desperation, and need. It builds so much tension that I feel like l can reach out and grasp it.

She is everything I shouldn’t want, and yet she’s the only thing I need. She is the balance I crave. The light in my darkness, the hope in my despair, the answer to my prayers. I stare at her, thanking the Mother for this little piece of the heavens while I still roam this continent. I’m confused about what I have done in my miserable existence to deserve such a precious gift.

As the song draws to a close, I spin her out one last time and dip her low. My hand slides down the curve of her throat to her chest, drawing her back into me. I can’t resist the pull. Seeing the same need in her, I lean in, ready to claim her lips; however, Elm steps in, saving us both from the repercussions—his timing impeccable.

“Stop hogging the champion,” he teases, a grin playing on his lips.

I release Reign reluctantly, handing her over to him with a slight bow. The moment is gone, and I return to James, who fixes me with a sharp, knowing look.

“Luke, are you fucking crazy? What was that?”

“I know… I know.” My voice drips with guilt, and I rake a hand through my hair.

“Good thing Elm’s got more sense than you,” James snaps.

“I can’t let her go… I think I lo?—”

“Don’t,” James interrupts, his voice low but urgent. “Too many listening ears. Don’t make this worse.” He rubs his temples in frustration. “Vanna hasn’t taken her eyes off you. She was just whispering with Raymon. Something’s brewing tonight—stay close to Reign. You know the games Vanna plays. I’ll personally watch your corridor.”

The weight of his words settles over me. This man, more a father to me than my own, offers unwavering love and loyalty once again. “That won’t be necessary. I’ll make sure she stays with me. Nothing will happen.”

James nods, satisfied but still wary.

I turn my gaze back to Reign, who now sits with Kylo, Lilyana, and Elm. She laughs easily, her cheeks rosy from the wine. Every glance she steals in my direction ignites the urge to whisk her away to my room, but I resist. I want her to enjoy this night with her friends.

Tonight, I turn down every maiden who approaches me. No dance, no idle conversation—nothing compares to what I’ve already shared with Reign on that floor. After a long stretch of watching from the sidelines, I say my goodnights to James and make my way to Kylo, Lilyana, Elm, and Reign.

“Luke! Dance with me!” Lilyana exclaims, her voice too loud and eager.

“Not tonight, Lilyana.”

“Oh, please! Just a quick one…” she asks again, pleading. I should, but I want to get back to my room. I have had enough socializing for one night.

“Not tonight. I am heading to bed now. Next time.”

She pouts, giving me a sulking look as I kiss the top of her head. Then I turn to Reign. “Let me walk you back to your room.”

She hesitates for a moment, a swirl of emotions flickering across her face, but nods.

“Alright. Goodnight. I will see you all tomorrow.” She hugs each of them goodnight and follows me out of the ballroom.

We walk in silence until we reach her door. She pauses, her hand hovering over the handle.

“I am angry and upset with you…” she admits, her voice low and steady.

The words hurt, but I’m grateful she feels comfortable saying them. “I know…” I reach for her hand, but she pulls it away, her glare sharp.

“No Luke… I am really angry with you.”

A smile tugs at my lips. “I know, Reckless, I know. And I love your feistiness when you are angry.” I wrap my hand around her wrist, pulling her closer, my arm slipping around her back.

“It wasn’t my choice to become betrothed. I have no intention of marrying her or anyone else they deem fit for me.” I confess. I want to tell her I’d pick her, choose her—in this lifetime and the next—that it will always be her… but I don’t.

“You’re sleeping in my room tonight,” I murmur, turning toward my door and gently tugging her along. She plants her feet, refusing to move.

“I will not.”

So stubborn. So reckless. I grin. “You will…” I pull her closer, lowering my voice. “We both know you want to, and you will come with me in the end, so let’s just get going.” Her cheeks flush a deeper red, but she lets me guide her to my room.

Inside, I pull a nightgown from the armoire—a sheer, lacy thing Sasha tucked away for emergencies—and toss it onto the bed. “Dress while I stoke the fire.”

She picks up the gown, glancing at me with a small, uncertain smile. As I kneel by the hearth, adding a log to the embers, she calls my name softly.

“Luke?”

I turn, meeting her gaze. “Yes?”

“I can’t get the back of my dress undone. Can…” She looks at the ground shyly. Gods she is adorable. “Can you help me?”

The vulnerability in her voice makes my chest ache. “Oh, Reckless… I’ll never pass up a chance to undress you.” I chuckle as she turns, offering me her back.

The moment I undo the clasps, the dress falls open, revealing the thick, angry markings. I knew she had scars, but I never realized how bad it was. Her beautiful skin is marred, tainted with the history of the abuse she suffered. My hand drifts down her back instinctively, brushing the raised skin. She gasps softly.

“I… I didn’t realize your scars were so bad. Who did this to you? Big Al?” My voice is tight as I try to disguise the burning fury in my question.

Turning around, she grasps the front of her dress to keep it from slipping down and exposing her. “It doesn’t matter how I got them or from whom, Prince,” she says dryly.

“Was it in the Hollows?” I press her further.

She sighs as the fire blazes, casting a seductive glow on her skin. Shadows dance across her and the dim room, shifting with the flame’s frantic flicker.

“Those who have survived have scars, Luke, and those who did not went up in flames. I am not ashamed of them. I wear my scars proudly as a testament of what I have endured, of what I overcame. But the scars you don’t see…” She places a hand over her heart. “Those are the ones that are painful, shameful… Don’t ever look at my back with pity. I am not a victim.”

She leans over and picks up her nightgown again. “I have been cut deeply and bled, but I also wielded the blade and have blood on my hands. I’m neither victim nor villain… or maybe I’m both.”

We lock eyes for a long moment, understanding passing between us with every blink. She lets the gown slip from her hand, pooling at her feet, standing before me in nothing but panties. My gaze drags down her perfect body, lingering on her peaked breasts. She steals my breath, leaving me speechless. Grinning, she slips the sheer nightgown over her head, fully aware of her effect on me.

“I grow tired of this conversation. Let’s go to bed.” she says, climbing onto the blankets and gesturing for me to follow. My cock throbs painfully, straining against my pants, begging to break free.

Well, two can play at her games. I walk to the armoire and pull out a pair of sleeping pants. Stripping naked, I stand exposed, my hardened length fully displayed. Her hungry gaze never leaves me, as she licks her lips. I pull on the pants slowly, drawing out the moment, and her eyes track every movement.

When I finally climb into bed, nervousness creeps into my body, making my movements awkward. I have never been nervous with a woman, yet I find myself rattled with Reign. I want to please her and make her cry out to the gods, but I won’t make a move until I know she wants it.

We lie on our sides, facing each other. No words are spoken, but the exchange of glances and breaths says everything. Her eyes drift to my chest, and a sudden impulse rises within me.

“Give me your hand...” Her brows pinch in curiosity, but she obeys. I guide her hand to the side of my chest, over my heart, not the center where the rose tattoo is covering my scar.

I grunt at the contact, squeezing my eyes shut. She tries to pull her hand away, but I hold it steady, pressing it flat against me. Sucking in a deep breath, I will my rapid heartbeat to calm. After a moment, my breathing evens out, though my heart still gallops beneath her palm.

When I open my eyes, her lavender gaze is soft, glistening with unspoken emotions

“It’s okay. I just wanted to see if I could handle you touching me here.”

Her breath matches mine, fast and shallow. I have this undying desire to kiss her. I feel engulfed in her flames, and yet I want to burn in them. I slide her hand to the back of my neck, pulling her closer until our bodies touch. Then I kiss her.

It’s not a slow lazy kiss, but a greedy one, full of hunger and desire. She meets my passion with the same ferocity. We are teeth and tongues and clashing hunger. I feel like a starving man, and she’s the only meal that will satisfy me. Kissing her with the same intensity as my heart rate, I run my hand up her leg to her plump ass, gripping it firmly to pull her against my throbbing cock.

Trailing kisses down her neck, I tug the front of her gown down with my teeth, revealing her perfect breasts. With heavy-lidded eyes, I meet her hungry gaze before licking the tip of her breast and sucking her nipple into my mouth. She moans, and the sound alone nearly undoes me.

Trailing tender pecks back up to her mouth, I bring my hand around to her front, over her panties. She sucks in a deep breath, making me immediately halt.

“Is this okay? Do you want me to stop?”

She shakes her head, and I can’t help but smile at how beautiful this goddess before me is. Smiling, I rub her clit through the silky fabric, savoring the way her eyelids flutter shut. I claim her mouth again, kissing her deeply as my hand slips beneath her panties.

Rubbing my hands gently over her, I dive slightly deeper, moaning at the slickness I am met with. Unable to wait any longer, I push a finger into her. Her loud moan vibrates against my lips, and I swallow it greedily, deepening the kiss. Plunging my finger in and out, she begins to rock her hips, meeting my thrusts with increasing fervor.

She reaches down between us, her tiny hand gripping my rock-hard length. “No. Let me touch you first.” I flip her onto her back, positioning myself on top of her. She yelps at the motion but quickly laughs. Sitting up, she rips off her nightgown before lying back down.

“Gods and goddesses, you are the most breathtaking view I’ve ever witnessed,” I confess. Laying fully on top of her, I kiss her again, trailing my lips down her throat and the center of her chest. Summoning my shadows, I have them pinch her nipples lightly. She gasps, and I can’t help but chuckle. As I lower myself toward my prize, my shadowy grasp seizes both of her wrists, restraining them above her head.

“No! No!” Panic laces her voice. I immediately release her and sit up, the terror etched on her face making me feel sick, knowing I somehow caused it.