Page 36 of The Call of Crimson (The Crimson & Shadows #2)

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

OPHELIA

M y skin blisters and cracks as lightning races through my muscles, filling me with a familiar and bitter pain. A nauseatingly sweet scent permeates the air from the blackened flesh of my arms.

“You stupid, worthless female,” my father hisses. “Layne was the only child worth anything, and now he’s dead because of you.”

I gasp, fighting to stay conscious through the pain. Words are impossible, so I let him rattle on.

“Layne’s Gift was at least useful in negotiating trade and alliances. You can’t even create a Faerie light,” he sneers. “I could’ve at least used you to secure an alliance through marriage, but you had to go and give yourself to the court whore.”

I can take his insults and attacks on me. But Elijah? No. He needs to leave Elijah out of it.

A surge of strength fills me, and I stand abruptly. My fingers wrap around his throat and begin squeezing.

The scene shifts.

My hand is no longer around my father’s neck, but Layne’s. His skin withers, going grey, the life draining out of him.

“No!” I shriek, realizing what I’ve done. I release my grip on his neck, and his body drops to the floor. Blank eyes stare up at me.

Knock.

“Lord Elijah,” a muffled voice calls, dragging me out of my dream.

“Eli,” I whisper, nudging his sleeping form behind me.

He nuzzles his face into the crook of my neck, tightening his arms around me.

Another knock, louder this time.

“Elijah, someone needs you,” I say again, trying to pull his arm away.

“Oh yeah, baby?” he whispers, rolling his already hard length against my backside.

Warmth spreads through me at his arousal, lighting every nerve ending. “I’m not talking about me.”

“Are you sure about that?” He runs a hand up my thigh to my center, his fingers trailing lightly over my sex. “I think if I dip my fingers into your pretty pussy I’ll find it ready for me.”

“Lord Elijah, this is urgent,” the voice yells.

Groaning, Elijah pulls away and throws the blankets off. “Fuck Breyla for leaving us in charge. I never got woken up in the middle of the night before.”

He pulls a robe and stalks toward the door. Before he opens it, he shoots me a look that promises this isn’t over.

I bite my lip, shivers running through me at the silent vow in his eyes.

The door flies open, revealing a disheveled guard.

“What is it, Samson?” Elijah asks.

“General Jade just sent word. We’re experiencing multiple attacks along the border.”

“Which border?”

“All of them.”

“Hold on,” Elijah says, closing his eyes. His brow creases for a heartbeat before he opens them again, sharp and clear. “Say that again for me.”

“Rimor is experiencing multiple attacks along each border right now,” Samson repeats.

“How many casualties?” Elijah asks.

“Our best guess is several dozen so far, but it’s hard to say for sure.”

“Are any of those civilians?”

Samson swallows hard, his eyes dropping to the floor for a brief moment before shooting back to Elijah. “A few.”

My heart sinks at the thought of innocent lives being lost.

“Send three hundred soldiers from the capital and divide them between each border,” Elijah commands Samson.

“Yes, sir,” Samson acknowledges. “And the refugees?”

“There are refugees?”

“General Jade evacuated Caedel after it began burning. The entire city will be here within the week.”

“How many?”

“A thousand give or take.”

“Dammit,” Elijah sighs, rubbing his jaw. “When the staff wakes, call a meeting. Let them know what’s happened and have them begin preparations. They’ll need to ready all the guest wings and the main hall for the survivors. If that’s not enough, we'll have to use the inns and the brothel.”

“Understood. Thank you, Lord Elijah.” Samson bows and leaves.

The door clicks shut softly, leaving us alone.

Elijah sighs and turns to me. “Fuck you, B. Tell Ayden I’ll punch him in the godsdamned face for taking you from Rimor and leaving me to do this without you.” He isn’t talking to me, but Breyla, somehow. “I love you, though. Good night.”

He shakes his head, refocusing his gaze on me.

“So where were we?” Elijah asks, prowling toward the bed, a hungry gleam in his eyes.

“Uh uh.” I shake my head. “We’re circling back to what I just saw you do.”

“That party trick?” he asks, cocking his head slightly.

“With those I have a strong connection, I can allow them to see through my eyes for short periods. It’s one-way, so they can see and hear everything I do, but I can’t hear or see anything from them.

It’s how I communicate with Breyla at a distance. ”

“Who knows you can do this?” I ask.

“Breyla and Jade. And now you,” he says, climbing into bed and straddling my hips.

He leans down, brushing light kisses along my neck, rolling his hard length against my center.

A soft whimper escapes before I catch it. I lace my fingers through his hair, tugging him gently back.

“Elijah, why am I just now learning about this?” I don’t bother hiding the hurt in my voice.

“I’m sorry, doll.” His eyes shift from heated to regretful in an instant. “I didn’t even think about it. I wasn’t keeping it from you. I just use it so rarely that it didn’t occur to me to tell you.”

“I share everything with you, Eli. I just want to know you as you do me,” I whisper.

“I know you do, and I cherish you for trusting me with that.” He cups my chin, kissing me softly. “Do you want to see how I see you?”

My heart answers before my mouth does. “Yes.”

“Close your eyes and trust me.”

I shut my eyes, exhaling slowly.

“You’ll feel a pressure inside your head—that’s me. Don’t fight it.”

A moment later, a foreign but not unpleasant sensation brushes my mind, like a hand caressing my thoughts. I tense briefly, then relax into it.

“Good,” he praises, his voice low. “It should feel gentle, like a soft nudge. Keep your eyes closed, but let me in.”

The soft caress grows, and an image begins to form behind my closed eyelids.

Black hair that almost glows blue in the moonlight ripples out around me on the bed, flushed pink cheeks, pale skin, and peach lips. It’s like looking into a mirror with my eyes closed.

It’s me, as he sees me.

“Do you see how beautiful you are?” Elijah whispers.

“I don’t know about beautiful,” I murmur. “But I see myself.”

“Let me show you some of my favorite ways I see you,” Elijah says, his voice thick with emotion.

“Okay,” I breathe, keeping my eyes closed.

The view shifts, the perspective sliding away from my face and slowly down my body.

“What are you doing, Eli?” My voice trembles with uncertainty.

“Showing you one of my favorite views,” he says, and I can hear the grin in his voice.

The image lowers, down my stomach, hovering over my hips. My breath catches as I feel his hands push up the hem of my nightgown, baring me to him.

The fabric slides over my hips, leaving me exposed.

I glimpse my navel as he lays a kiss there, then trails them languidly down to my pelvis.

The soft, dark curls come into view right as I feel his fingers brush lazily along my inner thigh. My legs are sharply pushed apart as the perspective changes once again.

I’m staring directly at my own sex, something I’ve never seen before.

Liquid heat pools in my core. The sight is somehow both erotic and overwhelming.

“Do you see that pretty pink pussy, darling?” Elijah murmurs. “How it’s already glistening for me?”

A soft moan escapes my throat at his filthy words.

“Use your words,” he growls.

“I see it,” I whisper.

“Good,” he praises, voice low and rough. “You’re about to see a whole lot more.”

That’s all the warning I get before he dives straight into my center, his tongue licking a firm line from my opening to my clit.

I whimper and write against his mouth.

From the vision in my mind, all I see are the soft folds of my body, flushed and glistening.

The sight is still undeniably arousing.

He slides two thick fingers inside me, curling them with deliberate precision, while his tongue flicks and sucks at my clit.

He devours me as if I am his last meal, savoring every inch of my tender, swollen need.

I cry out when he changes the rhythm, thrusting his fingers deeper, then curling them hard against that hidden place inside me. His tongue circles and presses, never letting up.

Pleasure builds sharp and fast, and then detonates.

“Fuck, Ophelia,” Elijah groans. “I wish my Gift worked with taste, too. I need you to taste how sweet you are.”

The view shifts again. He looks up at me from between my thighs, his lips shiny with my release.

His fingers gather my slickness and lift it to my mouth. “Open.”

Without hesitation, I part my lips, letting him slide his fingers inside. I suck them hungrily, savoring the tangy sweetness of myself.

A groan rumbles from his chest, and the next moment, he thrusts into me with a single, deep stroke

“Elijah,” I gasp, stretching to take him in.

“Yes, baby?” he murmurs, rocking into me in slow, rolling thrusts.

“More,” I beg.

He chuckles, the sound deep and sensuous. “You’re going to watch yourself as I fuck you now.”

“Yes,” I pant. “Please.”

“If you open your eyes before I tell you,” he whispers.

Thrust.

“I will blindfold you and bind your hands.”

Thrust.

“Then I’ll turn you over my knee and spank your perfect ass until it matches the flush of your cheeks.”

My core clenches at the image his words paint.

“Fuck,” he pants. “You like that, don’t you?”

“I shouldn’t,” I gasp, feeling him rock deeper inside me.

Not with all the pain I’d been dealt at the hands of my father.

“It’s okay to like pain with your pleasure,” Elijah utters softly. “Take control over the pain you allow, turn it into something beautiful, and rename it.”

I blindly reach for him, my hands finding his neck. I pull him down, crashing our mouths together.

The vision goes dark as he closes his eyes to kiss me, nothing but the heat of him, the fierce way he claims my mouth, filling my senses.

He nips my bottom lip, soothing it with his tongue. For every hurt, he chases it with pleasure.