Page 23

Chapter 22

W itnessing Azriel’s panic attack on Noctium sent Madan into a spiral. His brother was crumbling before his eyes, and he wouldn’t be the one to sit around and watch the inevitable happen—he’d already cut his brother down from one too many rafters. They had more to lose than ever before, and if they couldn’t unlock the secrets of the dhemon ritual, they would be in grave danger of losing the war long before they could even consider attacking Valenul.

Ehrun would make sure of it.

If, however, they could reconnect the extremist dhemon to the Underworld and Rhana, they had a chance. Azriel was serious about enlisting the dragons in their battles against Loren, and if there was one dragon he knew who could tear down an entire vampire army, it was Sehrox.

Madan made his way into the great hall several days after the Noctium celebrations to find his brother in his dhemon form on the throne again, Ariadne on his knee. According to Whelan, a second throne had been commissioned, but until then, he had to endure watching his two half-siblings share their place as King and Queen.

Whether or not Azriel had been honest with Ariadne about what occurred on Noctium, it wasn’t Madan’s place to know. They’d returned to the celebrations together after his brother collected himself and appeared relatively normal from then on. But the man who looked like a calm and controlled Vhaltrin was not who Madan had seen for the rest of the night.

No. Madan knew what made Azriel smile, laugh, and dance alongside his people that night. Alongside his worried wife. It was the version of his brother that he’d long since locked away, set loose only temporarily in the confines of Melia’s prison. The only thing allowing him to present himself as a level-headed leader was the plan to raze the entire Valley if needed to protect the woman now on his lap, and it was she who ensured that side of him wasn’t unleashed too early.

Did she know what he wanted to do? Did she know that her home was at risk of being destroyed by the man she loved?

It wasn’t his place.

So Madan plastered on a pleasant look and made his way over to them, the ancient book Sasja had found clutched to his chest. Papers on which he’d taken notes frayed from the edges. They had the location of Anwenja, buried deep in the western mountains, but now he knew how to find it. The caves were, of course, a vast system of tunnels, and a mere pinpoint on a map wouldn’t do without knowing where to enter and how to traverse the maze.

Azriel dragged his gaze to Madan upon his approach, red eyes shifting from adoration directed at his wife to feral annoyance. “ Rholki .”

On his lap, Ariadne stiffened. There was no way in the world that she hadn’t noticed his change in demeanor over the last few nights. Azriel had grown cold and distant towards all others, doting solely on her and no longer lavishing his praises to the dhemons who had gathered beneath his figurative banners. It was an abrupt relapse into the stand-offish persona of his time as a guard.

“ Alhija ,” she murmured just loud enough for Madan’s vampire ears to pick up. “What is wrong?”

With a hum, Azriel tilted his head towards her. “Nothing, my love.” When he refocused on Madan, he added, “I’m sorry. You have something to share?”

“Yes.” Madan looked at Ariadne appreciatively. The last thing he needed was to take the brunt of his brother’s temper, and that had been easily sparked since Noctium. Having witnessed it once, Ariadne had stayed by his side regularly to fend off the anger. The weight of such a critical role, however, weighed heavy in her eyes.

“Let’s hear it, then.” Azriel sat back.

But Ariadne stood, peeling herself from her husband’s hands with a glare at him. “Let us sit together.”

Madan smirked at Azriel, who glowered back at him. “Yes, Brother , let’s sit together to talk.”

Grumbling, Azriel pushed up from the throne and followed them to the bench seats at a table. While his brother sat across from him, Ariadne plopped down beside Madan and sent Azriel a look that clearly stated Be nice . If only he’d had her to fend off the half-dhemon’s grumpiness for the last five centuries. His life would’ve been far more peaceful.

“What’ve you found?” Azriel’s tone lightened a touch. He leaned forward to close the distance between them.

With a flourish, Madan snapped open the old book and pushed the first page of notes toward the Dhemon King. “We know where Anwenja is. What we don’t know is how to access it, as the precise location given by Sasja is in the middle of a mountain. This is a list of possible starting points.”

Ariadne frowned beside him. The writing, though using the common tongue’s alphabet, would not appear recognizable. “Are these places?”

“Yes.” Madan pulled out a black-inked map he’d copied of the western region of the Keonis Mountains. On it, he’d overlayed the tunnel system in red ink with blue dots marking entrances. Each dot was labeled with a number that corresponded to the list. “The tunnels in these mountains are a maze, and not all of them have been documented. What I’ve done here is create a single map with as many of them as possible.”

Placing his smallest finger over a section of crossing red lines, Azriel’s brows creased. “Are these interceding or at different depths?”

Madan shot him an exasperated look. “An excellent question.” He sighed. “I have no idea.”

With a groan of the bench, Azriel leaned back and closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. “We have five entrances, no less than fifty different paths to choose from, and zero sense of where each tunnel goes other than they intercept with Anwenja’s location. This doesn’t seem like much to go on.”

Annoyance fluttered in Madan’s chest. He pulled out another map, identical to the last except for the addition of purple dots that put an abrupt end to many of the red lines. “This one shows where there are known cave-ins blocking tunnels.”

“But the tomb could be behind them,” Ariadne said quietly. “How are we supposed to get through?”

Azriel shifted forward, eyes snapping open as he laid both hands palm down on the table, stabilizing himself. He said nothing, emotions swirling in his gaze as he studied his wife. Had Madan not known they did not succeed in getting Ariadne a bondheart, he might have thought they were having a silent conversation in which he wished to force her to stay behind.

In an instant, Ariadne bristled. “We already talked about this. You are not leaving me behind.”

On one hand, Madan agreed with Azriel’s initial response. Ariadne posed a danger in Anwenja, particularly with them not knowing where Ehrun was now or if Sasja had fed him their plans. On the other, he enjoyed this hardened version of her. Where once she would have wilted under even a scrutinizing eye, she now stood with determination.

What he didn’t enjoy was getting between his thick-headed half-brother and stubborn half-sister as they dueled over who was in the right. As if it were a true contest of wills. Azriel would break his own spine bending over backwards for her.

Yet the fire didn’t die in his brother’s eyes as he studied his wife. “This is not the time to discuss this.”

“On the contrary, this is precisely the time to discuss this.” Ariadne poked the map with a delicate finger. “This is where we will find what we need for the ritual. What if I need to be there with you?”

“She has a point,” Madan said, raising his eyebrows.

“Stay out of it,” Azriel snapped.

“Do not speak to him that way.” Ariadne sat a little straighter. “I warned you what would happen if you left me behind again.”

At that, Azriel blanched. “My love—”

“Do not ‘ my love ’ me.” Ariadne’s voice rose, drawing the attention of a handful of dhemons farther down the table.

Perhaps Madan shouldn ’ t be a part of the conversation after all. He looked between them, uncertain what she’d warned Azriel of in the past but suddenly very eager to know. Rather than interject to ask, he sat very still. He’d survived growing up as the only vampire amongst dhemons by doing exactly that—remain still and quiet and collect any information he could.

To his delight, Ariadne pressed on with a more even tone, “What if Ehrun attacks while you are away?”

Madan did not know how Azriel’s midnight sapphire complexion turned green, but the tinge appeared nonetheless. His red eyes went distant, his bond no doubt tormenting him with the very possibility.

After a beat, Azriel said, “Mhorn would always protect you.”

“And if he dies?”

“Fuck, Ariadne!” Azriel scrubbed his face with his hands before letting them drop to his lap. “What if he attacks while we’re looking for the tomb? I just want you to be safe .”

Another tense moment, then Ariadne leaned across the table and hissed, “I would rather die fighting beside you than calling your name for help in this prison.”

Blowing out a long breath, Madan began gathering his maps as quietly as possible. Her words struck him hard in the chest, and if they’d had that big of an impact on him, he didn’t want to consider how Azriel felt at that moment. He’d shown them what he had. It was up to them to decide what to do with the information.

“I’ll speak with you both later,” he murmured as he gathered the book back to his chest.

“Thank you, Madan,” Ariadne said without taking her eyes off her stunned husband.

Yet Madan had not put nearly enough distance between them before Azriel growled back at Ariadne, “I want to be very clear…I never said you wouldn’t be joining us. I merely need time to get every facet of myself on the same page about you coming.”

In an instant, Ariadne’s tone changed. “I think we are on exactly the same page about me coming .”

Growing up in the dhemon culture that put no shame on showing affection didn’t change the fact that Madan wanted to stay as far from his siblings’ sex lives as possible. Such a crass statement did wonders in shoving unwanted images into his mind.

“ Gods damn you ,” Madan sent through the vinculum to his brother. “ You set that up on purpose .”

“ Your fault for not moving fast enough ,” Azriel replied. “ And for encouraging her .”

Madan rolled his eyes, letting the irritation course through the connection. “ It’s better for you if she joins anyway .”

The only response he received was a mixture of annoyance and the vague sense that he was right. Of course he was right. The last thing they needed was for Azriel to literally lose his mind in the middle of a mountain.

Azriel’s voice rose up behind Madan just as he reached the entry hall. “Everyone get out. Now.” A pause as feet shuffled toward the exit. “And shut the door behind you.”

Grumbling his displeasure, Madan tucked the book under his amputated arm and took the stairs to the second floor three at a time, putting as much distance between himself and his half-siblings as possible.

Ariadne did not turn to watch the great hall empty, but she heard the voices fade, then disappear behind the closed door. Instead, she and Azriel remained locked in a silent battle of wills. Fear danced behind his eyes despite his tight jaw and the sudden rush of sexual tension between them.

“This is not a debate,” Ariadne said after a long minute alone with him. “I will go to Anwenja.”

He blinked long and slow, sucking in a deep, steadying breath. “And I never said you couldn’t. We both know that the people of Auhla need a leader.”

“I am no Yvhaltrin without you.” She lifted her chin a fraction to look down her nose at him, much like she had when she had been his charge back in Laeton. “They will not follow a Caersan.”

“I know you need to be in Anwenja with me…” His voice trailed away, cracking under the strain of holding himself together as whatever snagged in his mind had him grimacing. Those perfect ruby eyes scanned her face, defeat making his shoulders slump.

Standing, Ariadne moved around the table, closing the distance between them with the unspoken fear heavy in the air. “Everyone dies one day.”

Azriel sucked in a sharp breath as he turned to watch her approach. His tone grew dark and dangerous as he growled her name like a warning.

She grabbed his horns and held him steady to delve into his soul with her own. “If my love was enough to keep you alive, we would live in peace forever.”

Tears welled in his eyes, and he swallowed hard, but he did not respond. Her heart cracked, watching him choke back his darkest fears.

“But that is not how the world works.” When he tried to look away, to hide his emotions, she tugged his attention back. Her throat closed, each breath burning like fire. When next she spoke, the words rasped. “We must not live in fear of what could be, but should we die, let us do so together.”

Azriel nodded, the movement causing the annuli of his horns to grate on her palms. “Until the very end, my love.”

“Until the very end,” she agreed and closed the space between them to kiss him soft and sweet. The taste of salt on his lips told her that the tears had broken free, slipping down his cheeks.

When they broke apart, she gave him a small smile. There was still so much of this world that they were meant to explore together. An endless well of space and time for them to occupy before they were forced to kneel at the feet of the gods. And Ariadne was determined to see that through one way or another. To take each step in tandem with him and, gods willing, with their souls finally bonded.

But the fear of losing him too soon for her sake was enough to make her heart ache. “Azriel, I—”

Before she could tell him just how much she loved him—just how much she worried about his safety, as he did hers—his mouth crashed back to hers, hard and eager. Azriel wrapped his arms around her waist as he swung his long legs over the bench and hauled her to him. She barely had a moment long enough to suck in a breath before he lifted her from the floor, her fingers still curled around his horns and gripped her thighs so that her legs hooked around his waist.

“I couldn’t exist without you,” Azriel murmured, his sharp teeth dragging against her lip. “Please stop saying you’ll leave…I can’t bear it.”

Guilt curled in her gut. She knew the words would prove effective, but she had not considered just how big of a threat it was to him or how much it truly hurt him. Though he had tried to play it off in front of Madan, she had seen the terror.

Still, she would not stand by and let him decide her fate. Not when she finally had a voice in the matter. “Then stop trying to leave me behind.”

“I would never. I just feel helpless and…scared,” he admitted, voice cracking. “And I’m not accustomed to the feeling.”

That someone would not be frightened was a strange thought for Ariadne. After spending so long terrified of her own shadow and powerless to stop her own misery, it did not make sense for a man centuries older than herself to have never experienced such incessant terror.

“Separating us will not make that feeling go away.” Ariadne hooked her feet together as Azriel started walking forward and adjusting her grip behind his neck. “It will only make it worse.”

Azriel hummed in agreement and ran his lips down her throat. “If only I could bury myself in your bones so we would never be apart.”

Before Ariadne could register where he was taking her, he bent, bringing her to a seated position again. Looking around, she found herself on the throne with Azriel kneeling before her, nothing but fierce reverence in his gaze. He ran his hands up her legs, dragging the skirt of her dress high to expose her thighs.

Heat flared in her core in tandem with the tension easing from her chest. When Azriel had demanded the hall to empty, she had prepared for an argument. Now, she understood precisely his intentions. Her breathing hitched at the thought of what his eyes promised to deliver in such a public setting.

But Azriel spoke before she could say anything, “You told me you wanted to indulge in me on my throne.”

At first, she gaped at him, lost for words. When she spoke, her voice had turned far huskier than she expected. “Yes.”

“Oh, my love.” He kissed the inside of her knee. “This is your throne, and I wish to worship you on it.”

Her eyes flew to the door. Her vampiric hearing picked up no noise outside, but that did not mean no one stood in the entry hall wondering why the doors had been closed. The thought of it thrilled her, yet being there in that moment and on the precipice of making good on her promise sent her heart racing.

Another kiss on her other leg. “Eyes on me, alhija .”

Ariadne sucked in a sharp breath at the gravelly command. She did as she was told, and Azriel’s responding hum of approval had her melting into his hands.

Watching her from between her spread legs, Azriel tugged her to the edge of the throne. The first kiss at the crux of her thighs, over her underclothes, drew a light gasp. His lips curled mischievously. Then he tilted his head, baring sharp teeth, and bit the thin fabric separating him from his goal. In one swift yank, her panties tore, exposing her.

Azriel inhaled and released the breath with a groan. Without a word, he ducked his head, scooping the back of her legs up with his horns, and brought his mouth to her sex. The sudden warmth of his tongue had her hips rising to meet him, eager for more.

“What if someone comes in?” she breathed, her gaze shifting back to the door.

Another hum as he sucked and licked her bud. Red eyes flared in her periphery, dragging her attention back to him at the same moment he dug his fangs into her thigh.

Pleasure crashed through Ariadne as the initial shock of pain dissolved with each pull of his mouth. He had achieved his goal of keeping her eyes on him without uttering a single word. The bite had done its job, refocusing her completely on every one of his movements—including his fingers as he eased two into her slick sex and rubbed her with his thumb.

“Gods!” Ariadne arched her back.

Releasing his hold on her thigh, blood ran down Azriel’s blue chin as he said, “They can’t hear you, my love.” In went his fingers. “But I want to.” Out. In. “I want to hear you scream for me.”

A swirl of his thumb had Ariadne biting her lip. “But someone—”

“So?” Another pump of his fingers accompanied by that tantalizing pressure. “I want them to know.”

Her mind was blank except for the aching pleasure building in her core. What was he even talking about? “To know what?”

“That you belong to me,” he breathed, bringing his mouth back to her sex to replace his thumb with his tongue for a long, slow lick. “I have seen the way some of them look at you, and I want them to hear you moan my name.”

With that, he sank his fingers in deep, curling them just right to stroke that soft spot inside her. At the same time, he did precisely what he had promised: indulge. His mouth lapped her up, sucked her in, and drove her straight to the edge.

Ariadne dug her fingers into his hair and worked her hips in tandem with his motions. Her breathing hitched, and before she knew what was happening, she tumbled over that sheer cliff of pleasure.

“Say it,” he demanded with a mind-numbing curl of his fingers.

“Azriel,” she moaned.

“Louder.” He licked again, teeth grazing gently over her bud and prolonging the orgasm that much more.

Another groan, her mind not quite keeping up.

Her sex gripped his fingers, but he pulled them free before she could ride out the sensations. Azriel eased her legs off his horns and sat back on his heels, licking each digit as he studied her.

After a moment, her breathing slowed again despite her racing heart. “That was—”

But Azriel shook his head. “We aren’t finished.”

“What?”

A wicked grin spread across his face at that. He stood, grabbed her hand, and pulled her up with him, where she swayed on shaking legs, much to his amusement. Then he spun her around and yanked the laces of her dress free. The fabric loosened, and her breath caught as he pushed it off her shoulders, his hands guiding it down the curves of her body where he collected the ruined undergarments and released it all to pool on the floor.

“I said louder ,” he said from behind, his breath caressing the shell of her ear and sending a shiver through her naked body. “And I won’t stop until I’m satisfied everyone has heard you.”

Ariadne tilted her head back to look up at him in alarm.

Before she could say anything else, Azriel pivoted around her to sit, shirtless, where she had been mere seconds before. He unfastened his pants without taking his eyes off her. His hard cock sprung free, and he stroked the full length of it, lips parting.

How could she deny him? How could she deny herself?

Licking her lips, Ariadne stepped from the pile that was her dress and knelt before him. This is what she had wanted. To see her husband, her King, her Vhaltrin , where he belonged—on his throne waiting for her.

Azriel angled himself, and she drew her tongue from base to tip, savoring the softness of him. She paused a moment to look up at him, then licked that sweet bead at the head of his cock. He let out a sharp breath, eyes glinting, and she took him in her mouth.

Gods, she loved the way he felt along her tongue—the fullness of her lips stretched around him—the way he groaned and buried his fingers into her hair so when his hips bucked, she took more to the back of the throat—how he moaned her name as she worked her mouth along his length.

It did not last as long as she thought or as long as she hoped. Gripping her hair, Azriel eased himself out of her mouth before bending at the waist and kissing her hard.

“I didn’t bring my Queen here,” he said, “for her to kneel on the floor.”

“Did you not like it?”

At that, Azriel groaned. “Oh, alhija , I loved it. But I want you up here where you belong.”

Grabbing her hips, he guided her onto the throne, where she straddled his legs. She rose up on her knees so when he held himself for her, she could ease onto his cock. The sheer size of him filling her drew a low moan from them both.

“This time,” he breathed as she rocked her hips, drawing him in and out of her in a slow rhythm, “I want to hear you scream.”

“I do not think…” The words trailed away as her mind went numb with every inch she took.

Azriel hummed and drew his hands up her sides to grip her breasts. He sat back, dragging his heady eyes up her naked body. “I disagree.”

Disagree? Ariadne would have to disagree as well. She could lose herself to him without so much as a second thought. And she wanted to. Wanted so badly to let their bodies move together to the point of shattering.

By the way he thrust up into her, he felt the same. Yet he was driven by more than desire.

The bond throttled him, whispering the need for him to not only claim her for the world to see and hear and know but to prove to himself that she was real, alive, and just as desperate for him as he was for her.

There had been a time Ariadne had been ashamed to show herself to Azriel. She feared ridicule and judgment. Between the scars on her body professing she belonged to someone else and the mar on her soul reminding her of her phantom worthlessness, she believed he, of all people, would view her as less than and cast her away.

Never had he made her feel inferior. Never had he insisted she belonged to him any more than he belonged to her. Never had he judged her for who she was.

And that only made her want him more.

So she pushed her fingers into his hair on either side of his face and pulled him in for a hard kiss. Their mouths clashed in a tangle of tongues and clack of teeth. She moaned against him, sucking his lip and relishing the feeling of him against her.

When they pulled apart, breathing hard, Azriel dipped his head to swirl his tongue around her taut nipple. The other he pinched and rubbed with his fingers, sending waves of pleasure through her with each touch.

Ariadne arched her back, bringing her body closer to him as she rode him at a steadily increasing pace. The fire in her veins built, that pressure in her core growing for a second time. Between his touch and the fullness of his cock, she could not think of anything but the way he made her feel.

“Azriel,” she moaned, louder this time.

He released her and trailed kisses across her collarbone before sitting back again. Gripping her thighs, he thrust hard, drawing from her a louder cry.

“Don’t be shy,” he breathed, meeting her rocking hips with his own. “More, Ariadne.”

She bit her lip again, but this time, he cupped her jaw and pulled it from between her teeth with his thumb. Before he could react, she drew the finger into her mouth and sucked, each pull synced with a pump of his cock. Azriel groaned, his eyes shuttering.

“Fuck...” Azriel sat up and lifted her from him.

The sudden emptiness had Ariadne gasp, but it did not last long. He stood and moved behind her where he instructed, “Knees on the throne, Yvhaltrinja .”

Ariadne did as she was told.

“Mm.” He ran his hands up the back of her thighs to grip her rear and slid the full length of his cock into her again. She groaned at the new angle, his hands on her hips as he draped his hard body over her and said, “Hold on, my love.”

At first, Ariadne fumbled with the armrests. The strange spread of her arms, though, would not do. Instead, she grabbed the back of the obsidian throne, stretching her body forward at a tilt.

“Just like that.” He thrust hard. “You’re so beautiful.” Thrust. “And you take me so well.”

It was as though he knew the sound was building in her throat. His cock rubbed that glorious place inside her, adding fuel to the fire that was a second impending climax. Though her fingers held tight to the stone, her arms shook at the strain of keeping her upright.

“Azriel!” It was the loudest cry yet. Louder than any time they had been somewhere far more private than this.

“That’s it.” He drove himself deep before pulling nearly out and thrusting in hard again. “Again.”

Her answering moan was long and took all her breath. Pushing her hips back to meet him, she succeeded in making Azriel shout a curse of surprise.

Then, he pounded into her with more vigor. The sudden change of pace tore another cry from Aridne, and within moments, she shattered around him. Her sex gripped him hard, and she pushed back again, impaling herself on him as she took the full length of his cock.

“That’s it,” he breathed and kissed her neck. “That’s my Queen.”

Riding out her climax, Azriel found his own. He cried her name just as loudly as she did his, letting it be known to the entire keep to whom he answered—to whom he belonged.

For Ariadne was not a prize to be claimed before them. She was their Queen and he, her King.