Crown of Ellova, Vol. 1 (Crown of Ellova Duology)

Chapter 37

CHAPTER 37

K ole spins me around to face him. “I knew you’d save a dance just for me.” He looks far too pleased with himself and much too close as he uses his larger body to push me towards the dance floor.

Annoyance rolls through me, and I make no attempt to hide the expression from my face. Kole just smirks at me.

“You really must ask before one can accept the dance, and you,” I say, shoving him away, “did not ask.”

This only makes him laugh. It’s not a malicious laugh, just one where he seems to think we are both in on the same joke, as if my expressed desire not to dance with him is some sort of playful game. I instinctively glance around for Leon. Not that I can’t handle the fae male in front of me, but I’m worried about Kole’s face meeting Leon’s fist if he doesn’t move away from me by the time he returns.

Unfortunately, Kole is a powerful fae and any retaliation on Kole’s part could turn deadly for Leon.

Kole is wearing golden cuffs, which would’ve been perfect if I still had my powers. I could’ve molded the metal together and he’d be forced to spend the night begging any fae with metal magic or a blacksmith to help him. They wouldn’t have, knowing no jewelsmith would have done that without cause and it was likely a result of wandering hands.

The dance floor is hot and the other dancing couples press close to us, which doesn’t give me much space as I make a second attempt to remove myself from his grip.

The only reason I don’t punch him in the face myself is the fact that Everett is his best friend and we’ve all known each other for so long. Kole simply wants what he can’t have and enjoys the game of chase. The less interested I am in his advances, the more he takes this all as a challenge.

When he does let go, I ask, “Where is Everett? He should be keeping a tighter leash on you.”

He just laughs again. “Everett stayed behind at the palace. You know he’s no fun at parties.”

“Believe me,” I say, “I’d much rather be at a party with him than you.”

That wipes the smug expression off his face. He opens his mouth to say something crass, no doubt, the way his eyebrows are pulled together, but Kole’s bitter scent is washed away by healing oil and herbs. Leon hands me both crystal goblets and moves to stand in front of me. Kole sneers at him, looking him up and down. Leon just glares back.

“Do you know,” Leon says, “when I choose a dance partner, I like to pick someone who looks like they actually want to dance with me. You should experience it one day.”

Kole takes a step towards Leon but Leon remains unwavering, still as a statue. “Stay out of this. I don’t know who you are or which court you crawled out of, but she doesn’t need a bodyguard,” Kole says with a snarl, his face turning red.

I stand on my tiptoes and whisper, “Strawberry,” in Leon’s ear before I kiss his cheek, marking him as my dance partner.

Kole looks between the two of us, confusion taking over the anger. Leon turns to me with adoring eyes and pointedly says, “Let’s go find a dark alcove to entertain ourselves in.”

Kole’s jaw drops at hearing his own words thrown back at him.

Leon and I walk away, our arms around each other’s waist. I can still feel Kole’s eyes on us as we leave the ballroom, which is probably why a moment later, I feel Leon’s hand sliding down my back and grabbing a handful of my rounded backside.

We walk through a well-lit hallway, every inch of available space covered in art frames of every shape and size. Two fae men passionately kiss up against a giant portrait of some long-past court Guardian. Leon and I pass many dark alcoves, but most are occupied, the sounds of moans and fae enjoying themselves coming from inside.

“Is he always like that?” Leon asks, irritated.

“Yes. He’s always been annoying, but it’s only been within the past decade that he’s gotten more bothersome. He doesn’t want anything serious with me, just some careless fun. I promise, he’s harmless.”

“A man that does not accept a woman’s no for any reason is not harmless . He has just been harmless up until this point.”

“Are you hungry?” I ask, knowing the feast that awaits us will erase Kole from both of our minds.

He leans down with a sly grin, his lips brushing my ear as he says, “For some things more than others, but I’ve already licked my fingers clean so I suppose dinner will have to do.”

The heat of my blush joins the dusting of gold over my cheeks.

D inner is an extravagant event. Five extremely long tables run down the length of the atrium with an assortment of Ellovian cuisines sitting on hot rocks to keep warm. None of the dishes or chairs match, each carefully crafted by individual artisans to reflect their unique style. As we walk between the tables to find our place, we pass firefaes crafting images with flame in the air and dancers spinning around them, their hips moving to the beat of the music in glittering skirts.

I’ve missed this place, every night alive and welcoming. Something in the air here makes me want to dance and paint and create. If I ever get my powers back, it’ll be the first place I’ll come to. I hadn’t appreciated what all my court offered when my magic was still intact.

Lazalai sits with Nueena, Tavien, and the Verrelia family at the head of a table running the length of the dining hall. Since I’m looking to avoid any lingering conversation with Lazalai, Leon and I sit tucked towards the middle, my back to her.

We eat off each other’s plates, sitting shoulder to shoulder and thigh to thigh. I bring him small bites of foods he hasn’t tried yet. He barely takes his eyes off me, settling his hand on my inner thigh, brushing his thumbs up the fabric, which brings the memories of his fingers pumping into me, building an ache there. He must have the same memories; his smile widens as I blush.

The wine we have been drinking brings a flush to our cheeks and a wobble to our words. The alcohol has helped the pounding ache at my temple, but now I’m lightheaded, feeling better than I have in weeks.

“Let’s take a walk,” I declare with a hiccup.

Now that most of the dewlings are tucked in bed, bottles of a vibrant fuschia liquid are passed around.

“What is it?” Leon asks, intrigued as we pass through the doors of the dining hall. A pretty fae woman passes Leon a glass with a wink, and I immediately hand it off to another passing fae before Leon can taste it. She has a male on each side of her, both gazing at her with lustful longing, as we head into the gardens. “Thanks!” she says delightedly, taking a drink before dripping some into each of their waiting mouths and walking off, leaving us alone.

I pause, my back pressed to a marble pillar for support. Leon stands before me, moonlight making him glow as his hands wander on my waist.

“It increases sexual pleasure and is meant to mimic Zemras’ experience when they have sex,” I whisper. I may have had my hand around his cock earlier, but a sudden shyness overtakes me and I become very interested in our shoes.

“Sex with a Zemra is different, then?’”

“Well, of course! It’s a soulbond.” The world around me is getting fuzzy, my body swaying on its own, drunk off wine and Leon’s nearness. “Zemras can feel each other’s emotions, especially their pleasure. Their arousal is heightened with shared orgasms, shared magic.”

Leon takes my chin in his hand and brings my gaze up to him. His eyes darken, his grip on my waist tightening.

“What if that is something I want to share with you? Being Zemras? What if that is why we have been drawn to each other from the start?” He is staring at me with such intensity I laugh bitterly; it’s too much.

“Leon.” I say his name to give me a moment to figure out how to respond. “Zemra bonds are a form of magic, fae magic. You are mortal. It’s not possible for us to be Zemras.” Having a Zemra is what I want, what I’ve longed for, but it’s not worth the pain of dwelling on it.

“We don’t know that. We could try.” His words are as tight as his jaw.

The look in his eyes, full of hunger, sadness, and desperation, sobers me. Suddenly I’m too hot, pain returning to my head.

“Leon, there are laws. It requires Lazalai’s approval. You don’t have a court to approve us speaking with the temple guides. Besides, we would need to be mates for decades before a temple guide would even consider speaking to us, and you know we do not have that time.”

“Nueena and Tavien did it. They snuck in, and they figured it out. Why can’t we? Why are you not willing to even attempt it?” His shoulders sink. “Are you waiting for someone else?” he asks, bitter betrayal crossing his handsome face.

I gasp, “No, no.” I’m frantic to make him understand. “Zemras share magic, Leon. Magic is deadly to mortals. A soulbond to me while I’m still wearing this crown would kill you. It would not be the slow descent into madness you are putting yourself through now. With this much magic? You’d be dead. Instantly. I don’t even understand why we’re having this discussion! We are not together , Leon. We don’t get a happy ending! You are here to assist with the elixir as long as you can and then you are leaving. Leaving Ellova, leaving this realm, leaving me .” My voice cracks on the last two words but I can see something crack in him too.

The world around me blurs again. This time it’s not from the wine or the headache threatening to consume me, but the tears running down my face. He offers everything I’ve wanted and it’s agony to turn him away.

“I understand,” Leon says stiffly, his hands retreating from my hips.

My stomach drops. “Leon, I—” Please don’t leave me . It’s on the tip of my tongue to beg, to scream, but that wouldn’t be fair to him. He stares at me, waiting for me to finish what I was saying, but I can’t ask him to say. It's not fair to him; it never was. He’s free to walk away from me, from this place. I suck my quivering lip between my teeth to hide what a mess I am until his back is turned.

I can’t have him but I can save my dignity.

Each fading footstep pierces my heart as I slide down to the floor, heart breaking all over again. Agony rips into me at the sight of him walking away, but Leon returns just as quickly as he left, crushing me with relief. He holds a goblet of water and kneels in front of me.

“Drink this,” Leon says quietly, “and let’s get some sleep, Strawberries.”

I gape at him. “What?”

He presses the goblet into my shaking hands. “Drink. It’s been a long day and I would like to go to bed, preferably with you.”

I have no words, so when he pushes the water upward, I drink deeply, his stern features softening with each sip.

Leon helps me rise on unsteady feet and offers me his elbow, which I gladly take. As we walk back, fellow artisans stop to congratulate me on the crown or appreciate their new rings. A reminder to them that their loyalty belongs with Nueena.

When we arrive at our rooms, we undress silently, his back to me. I almost tell him to stop being so prudish since he had his fingers inside me this morning, but maybe a reminder of what we did is not what he needs right now, so I crawl silently into bed. My back to him. He follows a minute after. I ache for him to pull me close, but I have no wish to be rejected as I deserve to be.

He slides behind me, our hips pressed together, his lips moving slowly on the curve of my neck. “I recognize what you are to me, Izadella. Fate has destined our souls to be forged together. No Guardian’s opinion matters, and no temple is necessary to prove what I feel for you, what I can sense deep within me. I don’t need to hear it back tonight. If we part ways tomorrow, know that my soul is forever bonded to you, even if we never receive a soulbond.”

A part of me demands to say it back, to spend the last few decades of his life trying to put into words these indescribable feelings I have for him, the knee-buckling need within me to never part from him, to howl the ways in which I desire him. That urge to forge my soul to his, it is its own kind of madness, one magic plays no part in.

I open my mouth to speak, but fear grips my throat. To admit it, even to myself, to declare my unyielding desires would be a dance with death.