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

40. What Lies Ahead

forty

What Lies Ahead

Alessia

W e march through the Terra Court halls like guilty men being led to a guillotine. Rainer’s pinky brushes mine, reminding me I’m no longer alone. Even with all the stops, the past few days traveling here went much faster than the journey to Ethyria.

Sennah rushes toward us. Her hair is pulled back into an elaborate updo, highlighting the confident beauty she wears so well. The jagged ends of her wafer-thin dress skim the floor as she walks, fluttering around her feet like fragile insect wings.

“Oh, I’m glad my doltish brother fixed things,” Sennah says as she approaches us. “I kindly nudged him to make amends and…” Her lips tighten as she glances at each of us, then searches beyond. “Where is he?”

My heart drops into my bowels. I glance at Ezamae. What did he do with the Terra Prince’s body?

“What is that look for?” The princess grips my elbow, pulling me into an alcove away from the males. Surely, they can both still hear us, but I’m sure it’s purely for display.

“Tell me Eoin caught up with you.” Her lips are downturned, and a crease marks the center of her forehead.

I nod, unable to speak through the lump in my throat.

“Tell me you didn’t leave him alone in the wild.”

I wince, unable to give her the confirmation she seeks .

She sighs, her eyes fluttering shut as a hand lifts to her forehead. “Alessia…” She shakes her head and gives me a pleading gaze. “My brother is many things, but he is not as bad as you might think. He needs… friends, I think.” She sighs, turning out the window. “I know he uses his magic unwillingly on you, but it’s not that he was trying to control you. It’s the only way he knows how to help others, to be useful.”

Tears form in my eyes, and I face the window, unable to stop her speech.

“As beautiful as his power is to others, it haunts him. He fears using it, yet he will never deny someone in need.”

Guilt claws at my windpipe, and I suck in a deep breath. I squeeze my eyes shut to hold the storm of emotions back.

“He’s not an arse because he means to be. It’s because he’s constantly falling victim to the emotions he’s taken,” Sennah continues, unaware of my turmoil. “Those feelings he relieves you from, they go straight to him. Unlike the physical pain that subsides in moments, emotional pain lingers.”

My hands instinctively shoot up to cover my mouth, trying to stifle the sound of a sob escaping. Facing the window, I can no longer hold the tears back. They crawl down my face, blurring my vision until everything becomes hazy.

The realization sinks in—Eoin isn’t coming back—and suddenly, the absence of his presence is loud.

Sennah is unaware. I feel her behind me—feel her confusion—but she doesn’t know why I’m breaking.

The guilt of his death will haunt me for the rest of my life.

Two sets of soft footsteps reach us. A hand lands on my shoulder .

“Mo róisín,” Rainer whispers in my ear. “Let Ezamae and Sennah speak.”

I nod numbly, blinking the blurriness away. As I turn to leave, I catch Sennah staring at me with an odd expression on her face. Ez steps between us, murmuring something low.

Rainer places a firm hand on my lower back, guiding me away from the alcove as the two royals speak.

Seconds later, a heart-shattering scream breaks through the opulent hallways. It ricochets off the high ceilings, piercing everything in the near distance. A few pixies flit by at full speed. A passing servant stops, eyes wide, before turning and bolting in the direction they came.

Sennah’s scream grows raw and hoarse, transforming into sobs that almost drop me to my knees.

Rainer’s arm around me is the only thing that keeps me upright. “I got you,” he murmurs.

My feet won’t move any further. For a moment, I think Rainer might pick me up, carry me away. But instead, he leans me against the wall and grips my shoulders gently.

“ Alessia! ” Sennah’s cold, hollow voice calls. Her shoes clack rapidly on the floor as she hurries toward me, her expression a mixture of raw pain and fury.

Rainer sidesteps in front of me, but I put a hand on his arm. “It’s okay,” I mutter blankly. It’s my fault she lost her brother.

I deserve this.

I take a few steps toward Sennah and shut my eyes, bracing for the onslaught of her power. For the sting of a slap.

Her footsteps go silent, and her delicate, floral smell fills my nostrils. Rainer’s heat at my back gives me the strength to face her .

Though I’m still too much of a coward to look her in the eyes.

Suddenly, I’m hit with a shroud of heat.

Except… it’s not painful. It’s soft as Sennah wraps her arms tighter around me, pulling me to her.

“It’s not your fault,” she says hoarsely. “It’s not your fault.”

The tenderness is so unexpected and so needed that the dam breaks and the two of us hold each other, sobbing. Although the loss is different for each of us, there’s a mutual understanding of the gravity of grief.

It’s not a competition.

There’s no blame.

Only the shared responsibility of burdening the sorrow.

“The sorceress will be found,” Sennah says. She pulls back, tears streaking her proud face. Her chin tilts up, her gaze hard. “ I will deal with her myself.”

“I’m… I’m truly sorry for your loss, Sennah,” I whisper—a human apology is the only way I can offer condolences.

She nods sharply and sucks in a stuttering breath. Turning on her heel, she strides down the hallway, fleeing with grace to prevent us from seeing her disintegrate. Her wispy skirt billows behind her as she moves, amplifying her bold presence.

I turn to Ezamae. “You need to go to Umbra Court—get Viv.”

“Who?” His forehead scrunches.

“Viveka. She’s an owl shifter, a friend of the princess. She might be able to… help here.”

Ez puts a fist over his chest and nods sternly, which I return half-heartedly.

This way, at the very least, Sennah won’t be alone. She’ll have someone nearby who cares for her until we can come back and check on her. She’s strong, but it’s horrible she’s forced to be. I hate leaving her in this state. Just like I hate leaving the young Tradeling in the queen’s clutches. We need to figure out this Spiritus court and ancestral magic situation quickly so I can move on and assist the others.

Perhaps I was meant to find my freedom to help others find theirs.

Bringing Rainer to my room in Eoin’s palace feels odd… especially considering everything that transpired the last couple of weeks.

We enter the sitting room and cross through to the bedroom. I kick off my shoes, and though I’m tempted to throw myself face down onto the bed, I know I should get cleaned up. I enter the changing room, avoiding my reflection in the mirror.

“At least he made you comfortable,” Rainer says behind me.

As I gaze around the room, memories of my conversations with Sera flood my mind. My chest feels heavy with grief for Eoin and the pain of Sera’s betrayal. It’s nearly unbearable.

“I wasn’t comfortable,” I say, finding a clean nightgown. “Nice things aren’t what bring me comfort.” Without bothering to hide my body, I drop my leggings and pull my shirt off overhead, leaving me in just the utility corset.

“Are you okay?” Rainer whispers in my ear, squeezing my hand.

I frown at him. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

He gently pauses, spinning me into his chest. “Don’t do that with me.”

“Do what? ”

“Pretend.”

“I’m not pretending.” I scoff, but it’s weak and forced.

“Why are you lying to me, mo róisín?” He plants his forehead against mine.

“I am not weak. I am strong,” I mumble, the phrase I always use when I’m close to crumbling. How many others have to die because of me? Eoin. Felix. Char. Even though Char didn’t truly die , it doesn’t make the grief any less real.

“It’s not weak to admit you’re not okay.” He kisses my forehead. “Strength comes in many forms. It’s not always loud or aggressive or fierce. Sometimes, it’s quiet and personal. It’s in how we carry our burdens without letting them topple us. It’s how we create space for others, even when we barely have space for ourselves.”

I sniffle, his kindness overwhelming me. “Char used to tell me, ‘Broken little girls turn into indestructible women.’ But I don’t feel very indestructible right now. Quite the opposite, actually.”

He smiles softly, placing a finger under my chin and forcing my gaze to his blue eyes, which look unusually tender and warm despite their iciness.

“I beg to differ. You are that indestructible woman. Look at you.”

I try to shake my head to disagree with him, but he swiftly cups my cheeks in his hands, holding me gently in place. “Look at you,” he growls.

Rainer whirls us around, forcing me to look at myself in the floor-length mirror. He stands firmly behind me, his broad, warm chest a wall of certainty and reassurance. He brushes the curls out of my face and over my shoulder, then places his hands on my shoulders .

His eyes are locked on mine in the mirror as he leans in, his breath a whisper in my ear. “Look at her and tell me what you see, Alessia.”

I swallow the thick lump in my throat, hesitantly shifting my gaze from his reflection to mine. I’m almost afraid of what I’ll see there.

I’ve seen so many things in the mirror lately.

The sad, lost girl with too few meals and too many bruises.

The strong, empowered girl with too much fight and too many battles.

In the Cave of Reflection, I saw many versions of an unfamiliar girl with a familiar face as she peeked from the past and the future.

“What do you see?” he repeats.

I try to pull free of him, embarrassed, but he doesn’t let me.

“Stay,” he commands.

He slides his hand over the strap of my corset, down my shoulder. I shudder at the promise of his touch. Slowly, he unclasps the first hook, and the constriction around my chest loosens.

“Tell me. What you. See,” he demands, more forcefully this time.

Warily, I lift my eyes to the mirror. I see… I see the sum of mistakes. I see a body that was used and abused for too long. A Tradeling tattoo marking me as property. A young, freckled face that seems too young and naive for this world. Grey eyes that are too dull and too sharp at the same time. Tangled, wild hair not meant for reckless adventures and neglect.

“I see the person who got Char—as I knew her—and Felix and Eoin killed,” I say, voice cracking. “Who almost got you killed.”

A girl who was meant to die in that fire all those years ago .

Rainer stills. He rests his chin on my head, gazing at me through the mirror. His icy eyes cool the magma burning inside me. “That’s not what I see.”

“It’s me who doesn’t deserve you ,” I whisper. A sob bursts into my throat, catching on all the things I can’t voice.

Rainer shakes his head. He leaves a trail of kisses from my ear, down the side of my throat, to my shoulder. His fingers continue working, undoing two more hooks from their eyelets. As each hook is released, my breath deepens, the tension releasing its grip on my body.

A buzz of desire courses through me, and that woman in the mirror transforms into something I haven’t yet seen. Her cheeks tint pink, and her eyes light up like shooting stars. She’s suddenly a woman who looks safe and loved.

I continue staring at my reflection as Rainer leaves kisses on my skin. My forehead and jaw relax, the tightness subsiding and softening my face even further. The angry line between my brows smooths a little more with each brush of his lips.

“I want to touch you,” he whispers, freeing my corset entirely. He gently pulls it from my body, tossing it onto the floor.

Oh .

One of his strong hands reaches up, cupping my breast. My eyes stay locked on the mirror, inciting a buzz of temptation deep in my belly. My nipples harden into beacons of pleasure. His other hand trails down my rib, over my hip, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake.

“Is this okay?” he murmurs into my neck, nibbling my skin there.

I nod, mesmerized by the sight in the mirror.

His fingers slowly carve around my hip, toward my underwear. He grips the waistband and gives a forceful tug. My body lurches, and I gasp. A sharp rip punctuates the air. The air caresses my most intimate parts as I’m freed from my final constraints. Rainer tosses the torn fabric to the ground, resuming his tender exploration.

“Are you still okay with this?” he asks again, his voice low and husky. His erection presses into my bare backside, the layer of his pants forming a barrier between us.

“Yes,” I whisper.

His hand makes its way between my legs, gently prodding them open. I widen my stance to allow him entry.

I’m already slick by the time he runs a finger across my center. He groans, bowing his head and resting it on my shoulder. His hips buck as he grinds against me, searching for friction of his own.

“Take off your clothes,” I tell him. His hands freeze, but he lifts his head to meet my gaze in the mirror. “I want to see you.”

Without waiting for him to respond, I turn around and yank his shirt up. My movements are sloppy and awkward, and the shirt gets stuck over his head. I chuckle as he helps me remove it all the way. I reach for his belt, my fingers practically shaking. He sucks in a sharp breath, watching me scramble to take it off.

His pants slide down, and he kicks them off. I take a moment to admire his body. He’s strong, riddled with muscles, and decorated with dark ink. It is a lethal weapon, indeed, but also an instrument of pleasure. The mere sight of him sends a flare of unparalleled desire through me.

My fingers wrap around his shaft, working up and down .

He hisses in unrestrained pleasure and moves his hips in motion with my hand. It spurs my rhythm on, and I work with him more confidently.

“You feel better than my dreams,” he murmurs. He reaches for me, his strong fingers wrapping around the back of my neck as he pulls me to his mouth. His lips meet mine with a tenderness that betrays his possessive touch. “You taste better, too.”

He drops to his knees so suddenly that my hand is left empty, tingling with the ghost of his velvety skin.

“I’m going to kiss you here now,” he whispers between my legs. His hot breath has me clenching, and I nod. “Place your hands on my head.”

I oblige, working my fingers through his thick, onyx waves.

He spins us around in a smooth motion, making me feel weightless. “Eyes on the mirror. I want you to watch yourself come on my tongue.”

I’ve never wanted someone so badly that my sensitive bits ached. But now, I pulse with a need so delicious that it’s borderline painful, a shameless beg to be filled up.

“ Now , Alessia,” he demands. His tongue flicks out, caressing my clit as he punctuates his command.

A needy moan pops out, and my fingers tighten in his hair. Wanting more , I obey him, lifting my eyes to the mirror.

“That’s my good girl. My good little rose.”

He lifts my leg over his shoulder, and my eyes widen. I grip his hair tightly, steadying myself. He laughs between my legs, but the sound is muffled as his mouth returns, bringing a wave of soft, damp heat .

I gasp at the sudden onslaught and wiggle to find my balance. His hands cup my backside, holding me in place.

Rainer works with me, experimenting with various amounts of pressure and different rhythms. He must pay attention to what I respond to, because soon, he’s moving just the right way.

So this is why the brothel had a mirror above the bed. Now I understand.

Soft moans fill the air as he draws me closer and closer to the point of no return. He brings a wave of deliriously violent pressure crashing down on me, and I tug his hair, screaming out his name. My leg shakes, threatening to give out.

Rainer pulls back, a smug smile on his glistening lips. He sets my leg on the floor, holding me steady while I catch my breath.

I stare at him in awe, wanting more of that. More of him.

“Shall we move to the bed?” He scoops me up, cradling my body tenderly to his chest. He deposits me on the bed with care and immediately drops between my legs again.

“Wait, I—it’s your turn for pleasure.” I lean back on my elbows and peer at him.

“Trust me, mo róisín. I am receiving plenty of pleasure from this.” He caresses the inner part of my thigh. “Do you know that your femoral artery is right here?” His voice turns husky. “Deep, deep inside.”

My heart pounds violently against my ribs, propelled by the temptation in his words.

“Have you ever bit anyone there before?” I whisper.

He holds my gaze, studying me. “Never.”

“Do you… want to?”

The smile he gives me is dark and taunting, his lengthened teeth shining in the dim light. “With you, I want everything.”

“Bite me,” I beg. “ Please , bite me.”

His mouth descends again, but this time, his head sways to my thigh instead of my center. A quick, sharpness pierces my skin, morphing into a burst of adrenaline that radiates to my bones. I buck beneath him, sucking in a breath as I revel in the moment. Stars burst behind my eyelids as they flick shut, unable to stay open. My veins tingle, as if he’s infusing me with passion—with life —rather than taking from me.

Time slips away as we lose ourselves to each other and surrender to our pleasure, our love filling the gaps in my heart and soul.

***

“Would you like me to fetch valerian tea, for old time’s sake?” Rainer asks when we finish.

I nuzzle into his neck, and my lips brush the skin there. We’re both more than satisfied with one another, having found plenty of intimacy in foreplay without ever progressing to actual intercourse.

I can’t imagine what that will be like if this is already the most pleasurable experience I’ve ever had.

“I don’t think I’ll need any help sleeping after that.” Unless he still has nightmares and needs it for him . I pull back, meeting his gaze. “Do you think you’ll still have nightmares, with me here next to you?”

He pulls me back down to his chest, murmuring into my hair. “I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep at all with you here.”

I frown. “So we should get tea?”

His chest vibrates with silent laughter, and I feel silly. He plants a kiss on my head. “How could I possibly find sleep when I have you in my arms for the first time?”

My stomach flutters like a thousand pixie wings as my face breaks out into an untamable grin.

I hold him close, reveling in the feel of his skin against mine and greedily gulping down the scent of him.

Though I crave this endlessly, a nagging in my gut tells me fate might have other ideas. I’m anxious for what lies ahead.