Page 32

Chapter thirty

D imitri brushed his lips over the side of Astrid’s throat. He licked the straining tendon, and felt her pulse thrum against his mouth. He grinned as she caught her breath.

“Once I clean up, I want your lips on my cock, wife,” he purred.

Astrid shoved her elbow into his ribs as though she weren’t pinned beneath him. Then, she sighed. “I can’t.”

“Is this all you can take, Princess?” he asked, languidly rocking his hips. He leaned over her, catching her lips in fleeting kisses as she gasped and moaned beneath him.

He gripped her face, holding her firmly, but gentle enough not to hurt her. Her eyes fluttered open, midnight glazed with pleasure.

“I need an apothecary,” Astrid said between deep breaths. “Contraceptive, Dimitri. I don’t want the consequences you intend to wrought on my body.”

Because no one would willingly carry cursed heirs.

Dimitri buried the chasms of hurt her words unearthed.

He covered his ill-omened birthright with violence and temper but for the first time, he didn’t want to inflict pain to cover his own.

He withdrew from her and fastened his trousers.

A numbness crept through him as she sat.

His princess was flushed with a thin sheen of perspiration, and quickly buttoned her stolen garment.

There were no playful stares between them. No sweet smiles. None of the easy affection he’d witnessed of established couples he’d observed during his years at court.

Your cursed blood is an abomination. Dimitri’s father’s voice boomed through his mind, just as it had each time he’d slipped past his mother to approach the fallen king.

He was an abomination, and Astrid would run at the first opportunity. Love would never strike between them, but he might earn her loyalty.

Dimitri stepped into her and was surprised when her arms encircled his neck. He lifted her against him and guided her toned thighs around his waist. He smoothed his shirt over the curve of her ass, holding it in place as he made his way to the temple’s balcony.

Her arms tightened around him, and her teeth chattered. “Dimitri, it’s cold.”

The winter chill kissed his wings as he squinted against the sun. He patted her thigh and assured her, “It’s a short flight.”

“What?” Astrid gasped as he leaped onto the railing.

He waited and she squeezed closer before turning her head to peek at the pines lining the cliff below. His princess immediately buried her face in the crook of his neck.

“Put me down. I want to go down,” she insisted through her chattering teeth.

Dimitri leaned forward, embracing the transient moment of weightlessness he loved. Astrid shrieked and with a powerful beat of his wings they were airborne.

“I am going,” Astrid yelled between his wingbeats before her feral nature overwhelmed her, “to feed you to the Mothers’ serpents myself.”

“You’re holding me so sweetly,” he teased, nuzzling her temple. “I need to take you flying more often.”

“I’m getting frostbite.”

He reached behind himself and cupped her chilled toes. A warm breath fanned over his throat, and she shoved her foot into his palm.

Dimitri couldn’t help but chuckle. “You are not very tempered for someone who threatens murder as often as you do.”

His neva remained silent as he scaled the next cliff.

Dimitri crested the trees and shadows gave way to sunlight.

The air was thicker here, warmed by the billowing pillars of steam that stretched over the thermal spring.

He had the impulse to fold his wings and dive, opening them in time to level and skirt his wingtips in the spring as he soared.

The female clutching him would need many more flights before she was seasoned enough for such a maneuver.

He gave her an easy descent and landed quietly before gently lowering her to the pebbled stones surrounding the spring.

“Undress,” he instructed, shrugging out of his suit jacket before folding his wings through the slits.

His neva hugged herself and moved closer to the thermal spring. “I’m not taking my clothes off outside. Anyone could stumble upon us.”

“I’ll protect your modesty.”

He withheld the fact he’d grown tired of coming here only to be shunned by the other members of court.

They made a show of huddling together as to not get within ten feet of him, claiming his cursed blood contaminated the waters.

Dimitri’s patience had frayed too thin, and he’d slit the side of his throat, pouring his cursed blood into the spring.

They fled and never returned.

Astrid gave him a sidelong glance and began unbuttoning her shirt dress. “If someone flies over here, I expect you to bring them to me,” she said. Then, Astrid tossed the shirt on the smooth rocks and waded into the pool.

Dimitri finished stripping and joined her before asking, “And what will you do with them once I’ve dropped them at your feet?”

She stepped deeper into the spring and took a seat, allowing the clear blue water to—somewhat—cover her breasts. “I’ll take their eyes.” She glanced at him over her shoulder.

Dimitri wandered to the water’s edge and plucked a small yellow flower from one of the plants bordering the pond.

He took a seat behind her and pulled her closer, until her back met his chest. The heat from the water seeped into his wings and Dimitri groaned, stretching them out.

They spanned either side of them and he hooked his chin over her shoulder.

“For you,” he said, holding the small flower in front of her.

Astrid took the yellow bud, smelled it, then flicked it away.

“I won’t accept the wildflowers you bring your simpering females.” She said this with no bite in her voice as she leaned into his chest.

He collared the front of her throat and tilted her face upward. “It’s the contraceptive you’ve been shrieking for,” he said, maintaining the bloom’s proximity with the curve of his wing.

Astrid shook from his grasp and retrieved the flower from the water’s surface. “Do you make it into a tea?” she asked, glancing back at him.

“You eat it, or the leaves. The leaves are bitter, though there is some sweetness to the petals,” Dimitri explained.

He stroked her back while she scrutinized the yellow petals and pink center. After a few moments, she shoved his wing out of the way so she could approach the thorn-stalked plant and examine its heart-shaped leaves as it grew from the ground.

“Do you eat a flower daily?”

“No,” Dimitri replied simply. “Ingesting the plant monthly will keep you free of the consequence you think I want wrought upon your body.”

Astrid laughed, then took a delicate bite of the flower’s petals and chewed thoughtfully.

“Should you find yourself housing an unwanted guest,” Dimitri outstretched his wing and touched his talon to a small, hanging bud. “One seed from this plant will cleanse you of it.”

“Will a handful cause hemorrhaging?” Astrid asked before popping the remainder of Dimitri’s flower in her mouth.

“Who are you trying to kill?”

“Anyone who stands between me and the Serpents’ Crown.” Astrid leaned against Dimitri once more, and lifted her gaze skyward.

“Your kingdom is fallen, and still, you cling to it.”

Astrid glared back at him then turned her attention to the reflective surface of the water. “It’s my birthright—something you could never understand.”

Bitterness tugged down the edges of his smile, but he ignored the barb she unknowingly hurled. His neva didn’t truly want a kingdom. Her crown equated to privilege and freedom. Those were things he could provide.

“And if I were to offer you a wardrobe?” he asked.

Astrid glanced back at him again. Her midnight eyes glittered with calculation. “In exchange for what?”

He took her hand, bringing it to the surface. She splayed her fingers as he traced circles on her palm. “Would an array of gowns brighten your mood?” he asked.

“Not as much as your severed head,” Astrid said, lacing her fingers with his, “but it’ll do.”

“I’ll set an appointment with my clothier.” Dimitri pressed a kiss to her temple.