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Chapter forty-three

A strid woke with the dawn wrapped in Dimitri’s warm embrace.

He slept on his side with his wings outstretched behind him.

The morning light cast shadows over his sharp cheekbones and his dark hair had dried at odd angles while he slept.

She brushed aside the strands that had fallen into his eyes.

Her touch was soft and gentle as it followed the arch of his brow.

Her sword was strikingly handsome. The corners of her mouth lifted as she breathed in his scent of winter night with a hint of pine.

He’d been sweet last night in his own way, cleaning her and changing the linens.

He’d tucked her into bed, and she’d grumbled, protesting the sound of running water a few moments later.

Graymalkin chirped from the windowsill and Dimitri groaned, squeezing her closer. The fluffy gray and white cat cried again, and Dimitri’s lips grazed her shoulder before muttering, “I’m coming you little tyrant.”

Astrid smiled as he dragged himself from bed and trudged to the sill. She believed she could manage a life with him. A love match was never part of her future anyway. Royal marriages were strategic and served their kingdoms. At least the cock she was tied to was useful and…

Her thoughts drifted as she admired the unyielding planes of his chiseled body.

How they flexed and coiled with his movements.

He turned his back to her, opening the window for Graymalkin.

The sunlight shone through his gray wings as he stretched, backlighting the membrane from mauve to pink amidst the dark veins.

She’d prefer to bar his soul from his wings and remove the unsightly appendages from his perfect back. Astrid dismissed the notion. Most Ledivites would choose death over losing their wings and Dimitri was no different.

He closed the window and returned to bed. His callused palm rasped along her side before he pulled her to him. The room was comfortably warm, but the heat he radiated soaked into her bones.

She turned toward him and smoothed her fingertips up his forearm. “Keres told me you commissioned a temple for the Three-Faced Mother.”

“Keres talks too much,” Dimitri muttered as he closed his eyes.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Dimitri slipped his wing beneath the silk sheet instead of responding. The serpentine scales dragged across her thighs as he moved them higher. Astrid caught the leading edge of his wing and strained to keep her voice neutral, if not understanding. “I do not want your wings on me.”

“I’ll teach you to like them,” he said, overpowering her and dragging his wing up her middle.

Astrid shoved at the joint of his wing, tenting it over her. “No. You will compromise with me.” The imposing weight of his wing lifted, and she tentatively released it, relieved when it remained above her.

He lazily blinked at her and grinned, flashing his straight white teeth. “What would you like to bargain?”

“I’m your wife, you need to make room for me,” she insisted.

His wing neared and Astrid shoved it back to its original position.

“ Compromise , Dimitri. I want to cut your wings off, and you want to rub them on me—things neither of us want. So, we’ll meet in the middle.

You keep your wings, but you don’t touch me with them. ”

His eyes hardened and a malicious gleam lit behind his eyes, staining his molten gold stare. “No.”

This stubborn male was impossible. Astrid brought his hand to the side of her face and kissed his palm. “You can touch me, just not with your wings,” she said, smoothing her fingertips down his forearm.

A muscle twitched in his jaw and Astrid tensed. She cursed herself for not having the foresight to slip one of her hair stick daggers under her pillow.

To her astonishment, he lifted his wing.

The black silk sheet billowed and fell, piling low on her waist. He pulled his hand away from her face and fisted the material, yanking it up until it came past her shoulder.

His wing fell over her next. The heavy bones squeezed her as his talon tucked between her and the mattress.

Astrid struggled against her silk confinement and kicked at Dimitri. “Get your disgusting wing off me.”

“My wing is not touching you,” he countered, slipping his hand beneath the sheet and over her hip.

Astrid took deep breaths, calming her seething fury.

Managing him would take time. He was too obtuse to understand curling his wing over her with a thin silk barrier was still touching her.

The constriction of the membranous cage eased when she stopped struggling and Astrid shifted to her side to face him.

“Your wing is too big and it’s heavy. You’re hurting me,” Astrid said.

An arrogant grin curled the corners of his mouth, but he relented. His wing unfurled and he drew it away, leaving the far edge of it spread over her thighs.

“Sleep, neva. It’s early.” With that, Dimitri closed his eyes.

Serpents devour him.

She wasn’t a throw pillow. If he expected her to lie still while he slept on her for a few hours, she was going to slit his throat.

Astrid recalled her failed assassination attempt.

Stabbing him wouldn’t get her out of his bed, and if she tried to leave, he would swaddle her in the curve of his grotesque appendages.

Physically fighting him was pointless.

She inched closer and Dimitri made room for her, lifting his chin over her head. This close, his clean scent surrounded her—snowfall deep in a forest. She pressed a kiss to the hollow at the base of his throat and did her best to embody the defenseless, whiskered moniker he’d given her.

“I’m hungry,” she whispered, tracing small circles on his chest.

He was silent for a moment and Astrid soured. She’d been a moment from nipping the tendon running along his neck when his abrupt exhalation shifted her hair.

“I’ll bring you breakfast,” he said before smoothing her strands back into place and rising from the bed.

Astrid rose with him, slipping into the smoke colored, strapless dress Viktor designed for her. Dimitri donned his court finery and arranged his hair. He stepped into her, running a finger along the plum blossom branches comprising her newest corset.

“I see you appreciate my gift,” he said, scrutinizing the tiny flowers.

She took his hand and when he met her eyes, she motioned toward his closet. More than a dozen intricately-designed corsets and pauldrons lined the walls. She leaned into him and whispered, “I need my own closet.”

He chuckled and stepped away from her. “I’ll have an earth weaver adjust my walls and add a new closet.”

“I’d like to see the temple,” she said, desperate for the solace only found kneeling before the Mothers.

Dimitri pinched her chin and leaned into her, stopping before his lips met hers. His lashes lowered as he gazed at her mouth. “Anything else you’d like to demand, neva?”

Astrid stood on her toes and met him in a soft kiss. “I’m asking, not demanding, my lord,” she said, tracing her night-streaked nails over the sleeve of his topcoat.

He squeezed her closer then turned, leaving the room.

Astrid cataloged her victory. Dimitri was eager to please her. Starved for affection. She’d secured her Death Spirit, and now all that remained was steering him toward the Serpents’ Crown.

Astrid watched the sway of his wings as he strolled down the hall. Would he be willing to decimate Ambrose’s court as he’d done to hers? They could take Clorea and Ledivion both, merging them into a single kingdom and ruling side by side.

A besotted King and his soul weaver Queen.

She would need the Mothers’ guidance. Astrid started toward her makeshift altar but froze at Dimitri’s desk.

A snow plant rested on its side at the corner of the desk.

She picked it up, inspecting the tiny red flowers over its thick stalk.

The bottom had been cut cleanly. There were no teeth marks or other evidence to signify it as Graymalkin’s latest discovery.

Astrid set it back down and took a shaking breath.

Sterling and her cousins were coming for her.