All the Sacrifice of Shadows (Starstorm #2)

Chapter 24

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

G uilt left Creslyn’s stomach riddled in a tangle of knots.

She’d already been slightly annoyed by Solarius—she approached him in the gardens earlier to ask more about his lunarstorm, which he’d readily discussed at length. But the moment she questioned him for more information about their mother, he’d shut down completely. Whether he meant to protect her from the threat of any entanglement that could be misconstrued as treasonous, or he simply wished to keep her in the dark until he gathered more evidence for his claims, she couldn’t be sure.

Either way, her mood was soured by Solarius’s quick dismissal of her inquiry, and she suspected he still saw her as his baby sister who needed to be sheltered, even though she’d rigorously proven otherwise during Novalise and Asher’s wedding. Perhaps if she hadn’t been so distraught about unleashing the whole of her potential for fear of being shunned, perhaps if she’d accepted the growing shred of darkness inside her, and released the full magnitude of her power, then maybe Solarius would be able to see the scope of her strength.

After all, Drake had seen it.

He’d seen the part of her she kept hidden from everyone else, including him.

Creslyn was acutely aware of Drake’s every breath, of the steadfast beating of his heart, of the way the bond continued to thrum with life despite his harsh criticism. Carefully, she leaned against him, resting her shoulder and cheek upon his solid chest. He didn’t flinch, nor did he offer her any form of comfort, and for that, she had no one to blame but herself.

Because he also knew what she had done. She’d claimed him as her mate, binding their souls together. Even though his magic called to hers, she’d forced the bond, never once giving him the opportunity to deny it. Or her. Yet, he did not seem to resent her for her actions. At least he made no such claims.

But what if he begrudged her for it?

Panic washed away all remnants of guilt. What if he didn’t want to be her mate? No, surely he did, or he would not have wasted his time marrying her. Besides, blood was as powerful as magic, was it not?

Drake ran a hand down the length of her hair, tucking it behind her ear as Svartos cut through the trees of the southern forest outlying Aeramere’s border.

His deep voice reverberated through her mind, a dark melody, one where she knew the words by heart. “I would have accepted the bond, whether or not you forced it upon me. I have wanted to claim you, to make you mine, since the first evening I laid eyes upon you. It just so happens, you did it first.”

There was a faint tease to his tone, and she sighed against him. “But Drake…”

Her voice trailed off as they approached the Veil, the shimmering shroud of gossamer that enveloped the realm.

The Veil.

“Drake! The Veil!” Creslyn bolted upright and twisted to face him, clutching both of his arms. “Queen Elowyn has not yet lifted the Veil!”

He ignored her. The arm wrapped around her waist tightened, clutching her close as he steered Svartos nearer to the sheer layer of protective magic that rippled and glistened.

“Drake, turn back!” She glanced over her shoulder, alarm firing through her as she realized his intent. “Turn back now or we’ll?—”

She screamed and buried her face in his chest, bracing for whatever horrors might afflict them as soon as they crashed into the Veil. But the impact never came. Instead, there was only the cool rush of air and the heady scent of earthy magic. It coated her skin, thick like honey, smelling of rich soil and overripe fruit. She eased back slightly, peering around as Svartos’s majestic black wings glided through the Veil with ease, coasting and soaring, until he veered left toward the Arcasian Sea, leaving Aeramere behind them.

Creslyn’s mouth opened and closed twice before she could form words.

“How?” she croaked. “We should not have been able to move through the Veil like that. It’s impossible.”

“Is it though?” Drake asked, and the arm he had fastened around her loosened, his hand sliding from her stomach to her waist. “Or have you been taught to believe your queen will keep Aeramere safe without ever questioning her abilities?”

“I…” She could not refute his claim.

Not once had she ever doubted Queen Elowyn. For the entirety of her life, Creslyn had always assumed Aeramere was safeguarded and protected from outside threats. But if Drake had been able to fly Svartos through the Veil and leave without any sort of consequence, what was to stop others from storming right in?

“How were you able to do that?” she asked, glancing up at him, and his cold green gaze slid to her.

“Fae glamour is nothing compared to the might of my power, kearsta .”

His response gave her pause.

Aeramere bordered a human kingdom, and for the most part they kept to themselves, save for when Queen Elowyn lifted the Veil during Midsummer to allow for a fortnight of revelry and matchmaking. If Drake’s magic so easily overpowered the glamour, then it would stand to reason that anyone of lesser magic, and those without any at all, should not be able to come and go through the Veil as they please. At the very least, she hoped that was indeed the case.

She stared at him then, at this man who was neither mortal nor immortal, not fae, or witch, or vampire, but simply something else altogether. Some otherworldly being who controlled midnight shadows, who was so often eclipsed by light and warmth, whose origins were a mystery to her.

Creslyn reached up, cupping the side of his face with her hand. His jaw clenched beneath her touch. “What are you?”

“I used to ask myself that question quite often when I was trapped in the shadow realm.” He rubbed his lips together, his steady gaze focused on the eastern horizon as Svartos took them higher, across the Arcasian Sea. “The answer never came, so I stopped asking.”

“Trapped?” Her hand fell away, and she frowned, confusion settling around her like a heavy cloak. “I never realized you were trapped there.”

He did not look at her when he said, “One does not like to dwell on their misfortunes.”

“How long?” she pressed, holding her breath as she waited for the answer.

A vein along his temple throbbed, and he rolled his neck in a slow circle. “Centuries.”

Creslyn was fairly certain all the blood leached from her face. She could not imagine being imprisoned somewhere for centuries, though if she hadn’t met him, the very same fate would have awaited her. She would have been confined to Aeramere for the duration of her existence, never knowing anything beyond its beautiful borders.

She toyed with the sleeves of her heavy silk gown, twisting the ribbons in her hands, and wrinkling the fine fabric. “Will you tell me about it?”

Drake watched her for a long moment. She sensed his hesitation, watched his gaze darken to the shade of a frostbitten forest as he debated how much to share with her. Not that she could blame him. She was asking for more from him, and though she would be disappointed, it would only be fair if he refused her, considering she’d kept part of herself from him.

“My first breath was in the shadow realm, the beginning of the curse set upon me by my very existence.” His fingers tapped a restless rhythm against her waist where he held her. “It is a cold and empty place, filled with ancient magic and sacred prophecies.”

“Prophecies?” Intrigued, Creslyn sat up straight, angling herself for a better view of him. “Are they?—”

“I cannot tell you about them,” he interrupted her quickly, though his voice was kind. “Even if I wanted to, I could not. The words would not come, the power of the shadow realm forbids it. All I can say is that I have seen the rise and fall of many kingdoms and worlds not our own. I have witnessed immense love, but also great loss. In the shadow realm, fortune and tragedy are a rite of passage. A burden each soul must bear.”

Her shoulders dropped. How horrible it must have been to be cursed to such a place. “However did you manage to escape?”

A look passed over Drake’s face, reminiscent of fondness, the sort of expression one might have when they were grasping for a memory from long ago, one that had almost escaped them completely.

“I met someone.”

Creslyn’s heart tumbled into the pit of her stomach. She had certainly not been expecting that as his answer.

“I see,” she muttered. “And?”

“She was a faerie. At the time, she was a princess, but she would later become queen after the death of her parents.” His Northernlands accent thickened as he spoke, as he wove a tale about some faerie princess, some past possible love that crushed Creslyn’s spirit. “She lived in Faeven and was of the Winter Court.”

“And she magically helped release you from the shadow realm?” she asked, focusing on the snowy white clouds they passed through as the sky blended from brilliant blue to warm gold. It was far easier to distract herself with the shifting of light than to give into the rise of envy needling away at her, prodding at her from the inside out.

“It was not so simple,” Drake mused, seemingly oblivious to her inner turmoil. “For days I watched her from the shadows, though I had the distinct feeling she was always aware of my presence.”

The pit in Creslyn’s stomach turned acidic, roiling with jealousy. She fisted her hands in her lap, twisting the ring she wore around her finger with quiet contempt.

He’d watched her.

“We often had conversations, me from the permeating darkness, her crowned in the silver light of falling snow.”

Bile scalded the back of her throat as the realization of his words speared through her like a sword.

Oh sweet stars, Drake had loved her.

Creslyn swallowed, her stomach turning. Her lungs hollowed out. She was going to be sick.

“One day,” he continued, barely sparing her a glance, “she offered me a bargain. She would help me leave the shadow realm on one condition—if I agreed to return any favor she asked of me.”

He lifted one shoulder, then let it fall. “So, I agreed.”

“I suppose you’re going to tell me she took your hand and pulled you into the light?” Bitterness tainted her tone, but she could not help it.

“As it would happen,” he chuckled, and that sharpened blade of resentment wedged itself deeper inside of her. “But she fell in love with the shadows and her perception of me, and I had already born witness to the prophecy of her fate. She left me in the winter woods, and I never saw her again until she called upon her favor.”

Creslyn gripped her hands together, squeezing them in her lap, and that darkness she held onto splintered open. “What’s her name?”

Drake’s dark brows lifted in mock amusement, sensing the shift in her demeanor. “Her name was Ciara Solasta, High Queen of the Winter Court.”

The name was unfamiliar to her, and only one word stood out. “Was?”

“She died in the battle for Faeven, defending her court and those she loved.”

“Oh.” A wave of nauseous guilt crashed into Creslyn. Of course she’d been foolish enough to be covetous of someone who was no longer alive. Someone who had sacrificed everything. Someone who likely did not give a damn about what others thought of her. “How awful.”

“Indeed.” Drake gave her waist a small squeeze, inching her closer to his lap. “Jealous of my past, are you, sweet wife?”

“No.” But she answered too quickly, and his mouth curved into a knowing grin.

“No need to lie to me, sjellhert . I find your envy most arousing.” He rocked his hips forward, his hardened length nudging against her thigh. “Shall I tell you of all of my past lovers, then?”

Creslyn angled her chin, glaring up at him. Two could play this game. “If you must but know that I will tell you of mine as well.”

“Trust me, Creslyn. You do not want to see me jealous.” His shadows unfurled, billowing and flexing in a show of strength. “For I am most unkind.”

“Are you quite certain?” she taunted, lifting the hem of her gown to her knees, dragging one leg up and over so she straddled him. “There was a male from House Galefell who knew exactly how to make me?—”

“Do. Not.” Drake released the reins and grabbed her hips, yanking her flush against him. “Provoke. Me.”

“Threatening me again?” A rush of longing spread through her, gathering between her thighs, sending undercurrents of desire pulsing throughout her veins. Her body hummed, set on fire by the intensity of his glare. The diamonds piercing her nipples were like ice against her heated flesh, and her breasts ached for his touch.

“Never a threat,” he growled, his hands crawling up her back, making quick work of the laces there. Her bodice loosened, sagging in the front, and her sleeves slipped from her shoulders. Drake yanked it the rest of the way down so the soft fabric tumbled around her waist. His eyes were wicked dark pools of ravenous lust. “Always a promise.”

Their mouths collided in an inferno, a scrape of teeth and mesh of tongues, both greedy and desperate. Her fingers clawed through his silky strands of hair, grabbing fistfuls as she rubbed herself against his stiff erection in an attempt to relieve some of the pressure already building at her core. He grabbed her breasts with both hands, squeezing to the point of tantalizing pain, flicking his thumbs back and forth across her hardened nipples, and the bite of his leather gloves against the sensitive peaks was too much.

Drake swallowed her cry, devouring her.

In the next moment, he tore his mouth from hers, breaking their kiss.

He captured her neck with one hand while the other braced the small of her back, bowing her, forcing her to arch away from him. Flashing a cruel smirk, he whispered, “I believe your breasts require my attention.”

“Yes,” she gasped as his hot tongue left a blazing trail across her sensitive flesh, swirling along each curve so she shuddered in his arms.

He licked and sucked, tasted and bit. Each sting of pain evaporated with a rolling rise of pleasure. His mouth discovered every inch of her, and her head tipped back, a soft moan pealing from her lips as the frigid sensation of his shadows crawled over her, forming wraith-like hands that touched, caressed, and teased. They slid down her abdomen like fingers of velvet, creeping past her navel, then lower still. She strained, holding her breath, while the inky tendrils delved beneath the folds of her gown and pressed against the inside of her thighs, spreading them wider. Her magic beckoned his own, bursts of sunlight summoning the dark.

“Tell me, kearsta ,” Drake crooned softly. “Are you wearing anything beneath this gown?”

Creslyn shook her head, her waves of hair flying around her in the constant breeze. “N-no.”

“Good girl.” His smile was slow. Purposeful. “Because if I ever catch you wearing anything that will prevent me from fucking you any time I please, I will make certain you regret it.”

Before she could respond, one of the shadows sank itself deep inside of her.

She cried out as another entered her, and then another, until she was filled, until she thought she would break. They moved together as one, spearing into her slickness and then withdrawing, pushing into her, reaching for the apex that would send her crashing headfirst into a sea of absolute ecstasy. Darkness slithered over her flesh, touching her everywhere, leaving trails of frozen pleasure in their wake.

“Drake,” she gasped, reaching for his shoulders to find purchase.

But more of his shadows emerged, tangling around her wrists and legs, drawing her away.

Panic bubbled up the back of her throat, a cruel mix of heinous fear and sensual delight as his magic continued to stroke her, to coax her closer to the edge.

Drake leaned back, unfastening the belt at his waist, slowly undoing the buttons of his leather pants one by one. His eyes were the deepest hue of evergreen, the flecks of gold icy and sharp. The corner of his mouth lifted. “Do you want me to fuck you on the back of my dragon?”

His cock sprang free, and he fisted it, pumping it with languid movements, and his impressive length swelled in his hand, the thin shadows ribbing it moving in time to the ones buried deep inside her. She whimpered and squirmed, desperate for him.

“Or…” he drawled, “shall I watch as my shadows do it for me?”

“I want…” The words wouldn’t form, she was losing focus. There was only raw, mounting pressure as he jerked himself harder with practiced ease, each movement sending his shadows shoving deeper into her, so her muscles seized and her breath hitched. Her head fell back as the phantom-like cock inside her surged, stretching her wide.

Drake lifted her skirts with one hand to watch his power do his bidding. “I’m afraid you’ll have to be more specific.”

“You,” she rasped.

He clicked his tongue, then swiped his finger along her clit. “Me, what?”

Creslyn yelped, her legs trembled.

Oh gods, if she didn’t have him right this second, she was going to come undone. And she didn’t want his shadows, she wanted him.

“Then say it .” His thunderous voice sent a delicious tremor down her spine.

Her chest rose and fell in staggered breaths as she leveled him with a heated glare. If he demanded she be crude and unladylike in her desires, then she would give him exactly that and more.

“I want you to fuck me on the back of your dragon, Drake.”

She lurched forward, snapping her wrists free from the shadows that held her in place. There was a flicker of shock in his eyes, but it vanished as she threw her arms around his neck, shoving the fullness of her breasts right in his face. She positioned herself directly above him until the tip of his cock prodded against her slick folds where she was already full of his shadows.

“I want to hear you roar my name. I want you to send me to the stars. Until your seed spills down my thighs. Until you can no longer recall where you end and I begin.”

Then she sank onto his shaft, taking every blessed inch as the fullness of him joined the darkness that filled her.

“Fucking stars.” Drake’s hands captured her hips, lifting her up and down in frenzied thrusts, driving himself further inside of her than she thought possible.

She clutched at him, digging her nails into his neck as he plunged into her, and his shadows coiled into her heat, sending her higher. The bond purred to life in a heart-stopping clash of power, of darkness forged from other worlds and dazzling fragments of sunlit iridescence. Her blood hummed, her soul sang. The feel of him, the very essence of him, was a vast sea of devastating bliss, and Creslyn leapt, ready to drown in him.

“Creslyn,” he groaned, and this time she grabbed his chin, forcing him to meet her gaze.

“I said roar , Your Highness.”

Drake’s gaze turned feral.

He swelled inside of her, so hard and so fast, she forgot how to breathe. She clenched around him, gasping as the orgasm ripped through her, and she tumbled into the churning abyss. On one final push, he emptied himself inside of her, and then…

Drake roared her name.