A Dream of Fate & Flesh (Courts of Malice #2)

25. A Garden of Weeds

twenty-five

A Garden of Weeds

Rainer

S leep is a slippery shrew. When I finally fall, I’m relieved to be free of the common nightmarescape haunting me.

I exhale in relief tonight at the sight of my gardens. Turning to the sky, I revel in the sun’s bite. The Umbra Court sun shines more in my dreams than in real life—and even that’s a rarity I won’t take for granted.

Around me, vibrant roses bloom. They call to me, beckoning me forth. My castle stands tall, an enchanting backdrop beyond the gardens. The sight of home softens the sharp edges of my heart.

“Rainer?” Alessia whispers.

Turning, I spot my favorite rose of all standing barefoot in a thin nightgown. Her features are pinched, unsure.

My pulse thunders in my skull as I greedily gulp down the sight of her. “Mo róisín?”

I study her with apprehension, wondering if this is another nightmare or if it’s really her.

She grips her skirt, lifting it, and bolts toward me. I meet her halfway, closing the distance between us. I lift her by the waist, spinning her around.

As soon as she’s in my arms, I know it’s her.

“You came,” I say softly. I plant a kiss on the cheek before placing her on the ground.

“I will always come for you,” she says. Her tone is soft, but her tense expression worries me.

“What is it?”

“I...” She wilts, her body curling in on itself like a dying flower. “It’s nothing. Can we enjoy this time together?”

I’m just happy to be here—to see her—to not have nightmares tonight. With everything going on in my waking life, I expected my nightmares to be of the cruelest kind. Like the bloodlust, the nightmares are always more potent when I’m experiencing high stress.

But…

I can’t avoid everything from reality.

“Alessia.” I cup her face, bringing her gaze back to me. “You can’t come for me. In person. The queen knows.”

Her brow wrinkles. “Knows what?”

I shake my head. “Too much.” Everything . My jaw tightens, and I force the words out. “She knows you’re coming for me.”

“If you think that’ll stop me, you’re wrong.”

I slide my hands from her cheeks to the back of her head, weaving my fingers through her hair. I give a slight tug, and she gasps, color lining her cheeks. Her grey eyes blaze with desire, and I work to tamper my own.

“Listen to me, Alessia,” I growl, “It’s not safe.”

Her gaze narrows, flicking to my lips and back up. “There’s not much in this world that is safe.”

“If anything happens to you…”

“It’ll be a result of my own decisions,” she says pointedly. “You can’t stop me.” I release her hair, trailing my fingers over her throat and collarbone.

“The queen is trying to starve me.” I hadn’t planned on telling Alessia this but the words slipped out. She sucks in a sharp breath. “She’s trying to provoke my bloodlust.”

“Why?” She grips my hands, clutching them with desperation. “Do you think the queen wants to use you against me? If she knows I’m coming? Does she think you’ll… hurt me?”

“I don’t know. But the Elders meet in a fortnight to determine my fate. So I’m told.”

I swallow my guilt. Alessia doesn’t know about Sheila—the Tradeling I rescued in her honor. I’ve made such a mess of things. I can’t bring myself to tell her that, not wanting to face her judgment or pity.

I don’t want to cause her to worry.

“Her provocation won’t work. You stopped the first time, Rainer. You can stop again.” Her fingers caress my lips, exploring. Her cheeks flush again. “It wasn’t terrible, you know… I… I think I liked it,” she whispers. “It felt…” Her gaze softens, and she bites her lip. “It felt intimate in a way I’ve never experienced before.”

Her words slam into my chest, nearly knocking my breath away. A heat crawls up the back of my neck. She liked it?

All thoughts of the queen and Sheila fall aside as my eyes connect with Alessia's.

“How about we leave everything outside the dream right where it is?" she asks. "Right now, it’s me and you. Can we enjoy each other?”

My heart thuds to the tune of yes, and my mouth is desperate to meet her skin. Instead, I stay quiet and study her, wondering what she’s not telling me. There’s something there, simmering below the surface. I worry for her, and I’m tempted to press her about what’ s going on, but I want to respect her wishes. I trust that she can handle herself.

Ever so slowly, I nod. "I want nothing more." My throat bobs as I swallow. I push my concerns down, not wanting to spoil the moment.

“Good.” She smiles shyly. “Now kiss me, Rainer Rohan Iorworth.”

A fire burns inside me as I wrap a hand around the back of her neck. I pull her to my mouth, kissing her like the greedy bastard I am. Breaking free of her mouth, I trail my lips down the side of her jaw. When I get to her neck, she shudders.

“Come on,” she says, tugging my hand. “Close your eyes.”

I immediately relinquish power to Alessia, heeding her command. She tugs me along, and I let her guide me wherever she wishes.

The scent of sweet, baked dough reaches my nose. “Where are we?”

“Here! You can look now.”

I open my eyes. We’re in my kitchen, just the two of us, and there are trays and trays of doughnuts in all varieties and flavors laid out on the counters.

“What is this?” I ask in awe.

“Like old times,” she hands me a chocolate-glazed doughnut.

I forego the doughnut, pulling her straight into my arms. “You, mo róisín, are the sweetest dessert.” I nibble her neck again, and she chuckles.

She jumps onto the counter, dangling her legs like a carefree child. “Come on,” she says, patting the surface beside her.

I follow suit.

“Rainer…” Her tone turns serious, and I face her. “I’m coming for you, whether you want me to or not. You can’t tell me what to do.”

I go tense, squeezing my hand into a fist. Then, I exhale, forcing my muscles to relax. “I know. Just be careful… please ?” I add the word, relishing how her mouth twitches and her eyes crinkle slightly at the corners whenever I say it.

She knocks me with her shoulder. “I love it when you use human manners.” She drops her gaze, twisting her hands in her skirt. A sign that she’s nervous. “I need to admit something to you." There's a long pause until she meets my eyes again and says, "Ezamae and Eoin are helping me.”

I freeze, and the blood drains from my face. A white-hot flame shoots through me. I take another deep breath, forcing myself to remain calm. “Eoin—”

“Sennah told him the truth. He says he owes you now.” She watches me carefully.

My jaw clenches. "I should've killed him when I had the chance."

Alessia gasps, her eyes widening. "Don't say that. Everything would be so much worse for you."

“Don’t fall for his tricks. He's full of shite.” I scan her face, trying to read the situation and hating that she's relying on two other males. I'm loathing myself for not being there with her. “Has everything been okay with the Aer Prince?”

“Yes,” she says, leveling me a severe look. “He hasn’t tried anything with me. And he won’t.”

I growl, gripping the counter’s edge so tight I fear my knuckles will crack. “You are too trusting, Alessia.”

Ezamae might not be on my list of enemies, but he’s still a red-blooded fae with the power of enchantment. My rose is a catch, and I wouldn’t be surprised if he lusted after her.

Red spots encroach my vision, and I exhale heavily, reminding myself to trust her.

“Don’t you dare underestimate me, Rainer,” she says, her tone sharp, as if sensing my envy-fueled spiral.

My nostrils flare. “Never.”

I reach for her hand, untangling it from her skirt and squeezing it. “It’s not that I underestimate you; I don’t trust the company you’re keeping.” It stings that I even have to explain that. “I don’t like that they’re with you. Helping you. Fae don’t help anyone unless something is in it for them.”

“Maybe,” she says. “Or maybe they’re like you—you helped me without getting something in return.”

Guilt flares in me again. Would she think that if she knew everything?

“You’re right that I’m like the other princes, but not in the way you think," I say flatly. “We always get something out of it.”

“Yeah, what did you get out of saving me? You seemed to have lost everything and gained nothing.”

The mood darkens. I hoped we’d avoid talking about this… at least for now. Stay in our bubble a little longer.

“You’re wrong, Alessia.” I pull her into my side, wrapping an arm around her. “I got you.”

We sit there in silence, just the steady breathing filling the air between us.

“Why didn’t you tell me about the trials to earn your magic? The Cave?” she finally asks.

“There's not much to tell. It's an experience that's different for everyone, and it's not earning magic as much as it is accepting it when you’re ready.”

“So I learned—the hard way.”

“I want to tell you everything, Alessia. About us, me, my world… We’ve had mere months together, and in that short time, the unthinkable has happened. We’ve barely had honest time to get to know each other.”

“I know.” She sighs softly, nuzzling deeper against me. I don’t deserve her kindness. “It feels like I’ve known you for a lifetime. Sometimes, I forget how little time has passed between us.”

“We have a lifetime to learn each other, mo róisín.”

“Not if I don’t get to you in time,” she mutters.

“We have a fortnight to figure that out. We will be together again.” I’ll stop at nothing to ensure she’s safe. “The Elders won’t be the ones to decide my fate.”

She bristles. “Fate.” She hops off the counter. A shadow crosses her features before she sucks in a deep breath and claps her hand. “You know what? We have plenty of time to worry about this in waking hours. Let’s have fun. I'm in charge of my own fate.”

I'm unsure what she's talking about, but she tugs me off the counter. When I turn, the kitchen is filled with ingredients—sacks of sugar and flour, baskets of eggs, jars of milk.

“Hey, where’d my doughnuts go?” I tease.

“Perhaps it’s time you learn how to make your own. You can’t rely on others for everything, Rainer.” She winks.

She grabs us each a bowl and walks me through the process, step by step, as we make our dough from scratch. The entire time, she’s patient, kind, and receptive to my struggles.

Admittedly, there's a strange release in kneading the dough. It's rhythmic and therapeutic. I'm able to beat it up a little and expel some of the negative feelings .

Alessia laughs. "Normally, we need to let the dough proof for a bit. But not here."

She shows me how to use a rolling pin to roll out the dough, then we use small tins to cut out perfectly circular shapes. She claps her hands excitedly, grey eyes alive with joy. Flour dots her lightly freckled cheeks.

“Did you mean what you said earlier?” I murmur, abandoning my dough to nuzzle into her sweet, soft skin. “You liked it when I…?” Still ashamed, I can’t bring myself to say the words, so I gently caress her throat with my thumb instead, implying what I mean.

But when she nods and whispers, “Yes,” the disgust I feel toward myself floats away.

Testing the boundaries, I scrape her neck with my teeth. A soft moan floats from her mouth straight to my hardening cock. She grinds against me, tugging me tighter to her.

“More,” she whispers. “I want you.”

“When I finally have you, mo róisín, it will not be in a dream.”

She throws her head back, and I nibble on her neck, grateful the bloodlust doesn’t swallow me in the dreamscape. She writhes in my arms, rubbing against my hardness. The friction between us sends my pulse skyrocketing. I’ve never been this consumed.

I inhale her scent, reveling in the way she smells like home. Sweet and delicate.

She reaches down and palms me through my pants. “I want you inside of me.”

Hiking up her skirt, I smirk when I discover she has no underwear.

“My, my, my,” I whisper, finding her center with my fingers. She’s wet and ready, feeding my temptation.

“Please? ”

Her begging lessens my control. Picking her up by the waist, I plant her on the counter and position myself between her legs.

"This is not very sanitary," she says breathlessly. Her cheeks flush, and she bites down on her bottom lip as she glances at the abandoned, half-made doughnuts around her.

I smirk. "Good thing it's only a dream, little rose." I work a finger into her slippery center.

Her breath hitches, and she thrusts her hips against my hand.

“Rainer,” she moans, “that feels good.”

Bliss overtakes her features as she tilts her head to the ceiling.

“Look at me,” I command.

When she locks her eyes back on mine a moment later, she holds my gaze. She’s the closest thing to salvation that I will ever have.

She palms me through my pants, working her hand up and down. Pressure builds at the base of my spine. I’m desperate to lift her dress, to bury myself inside of her. As much as I love her tightness on my finger, I need to feel her warmth wrapping around my…

“Rainer,” she whispers my name, clenching around my fingers.

The soft sighs she makes sends a bolt of lightning down my spine. She grips me harder through my pants, and my balls tighten. When she moans again, I can’t handle it. I lean my head against her shoulder, groaning her name as my cock pulses with release.

As the moment’s intensity subsides, the weight of what happened settles in.

What the hell was that?

I pull away, too embarrassed to look her in the face. Shifting, I try to adjust my damp trousers.

“Rainer?” she asks quietly. “Are you okay?”

I squeeze my eyes shut, throwing my head back to the sky with a defeated sigh.

“Hey.” She runs her hands over my shoulders, hugging me from the back. “I’m sorry. This is not the time, and I got carried away. I shouldn’t have—”

“It’s not you.”

“Then what is it?”

Silence stretches out, but I’ll feel worse if I don’t tell her what happened. I can’t let her think she did something wrong.

“I came,” I mutter.

She stills, her breath catching in her throat. I shake my head, hanging it in shame. She spins around to my front, pressing her lips to mine. She chuckles against my mouth, and the judgment swallows me whole, but when she pulls back, there’s no pity in her expression.

Her cheeks are pink, and her smile is almost smug. “That makes me feel incredibly sexy.”

“That I came in my trousers—in a dream ?” I rub my forehead.

“That you’re so attracted to me you couldn’t fight the pleasure.” Her eyes light up. “I’ve never felt a power like that before,” she whispers, kissing my jaw. “I can’t wait to do it again.”

I reach down, tickling her sides. She doubles over with high-pitched laughter, trying to swat my hands away. “No! No!”

“That will never happen again." I scowl. “You can’t begin to imagine how embarrassing that is for a male to admit.”

“It will be my… personal challenge… to make that happen again.” She giggles breathlessly at my onslaught .

I pull back, letting her catch her breath. The joy on her face is so radiant, so beautiful. Hell, maybe I would come in my pants again to see her smile like that.

“You have nothing to be embarrassed of," she says. "Your pleasure is beautiful.”

Her eyes trail down to my crotch, and she raises a brow. “Hold on.” She closes her eyes, appearing entirely focused for a moment. When she opens them, she smiles proudly. “There.”

I glance down. I’m in a brand new pair of black trousers. This time, it’s my turn to chuckle. “That is quite a talent you have there, manipulating my dreamscape.”

The follow-up to what that means sits on my tongue, but I can’t tell her yet. Not that I want to keep things from her, but because she deserves to figure out who she is before I burden her with that information. Plus, it doesn’t necessarily mean anything… right now.

“Rainer?” She waves a hand in my face.

“Hm?”

“You had that look… the one where you’re stuck in your head.”

I grip her hand, planting a kiss on the back of it. “One day, I will have you in my bed and will make love to you the way a proper lady deserves.”

She tilts her head at me. “Bold of you to assume I’m a proper lady, ” she mimics. “Perhaps I like you taking me like this—in a fit of passion amongst the doughnuts.”

I groan, trying to keep the lust from shooting straight below the belt again. “I will take you however you want me to, but it will be in real life. You deserve more than a dream. ”

I’m helplessly, eternally bound to her. Forever her captive. The moment she appeared in my dreams, sparing me my nightmares, I knew she’d own my heart.

Hours go by as we bake, snack, kiss, and tell each other happy tales of our pasts.

Part of me never wants to wake up again, not if it means staying here with her. Because I know when I wake, I won’t have the privilege of cherry-picking happy moments to dwell on. No, I’ll be forced to face the worst life has to offer.

As long as I get out of here alive and get back to her, it’ll be worth it.

I’ll take the good, the bad, and all the challenges life wants to throw at me as long as she’s by my side. She is my beautiful, decadent, blood-red rose in a garden of weeds.