Embers to Flames (Fates Entwined #1)

Chapter Ten

The moon hangs low in the obsidian sky, casting a silvery glow upon the towers and spires of Eirina. As our carriage pulls through the entrance, my breath catches in my throat. The city is sprawled before me like a labyrinth of crystal and moonlight. Bridges arched gracefully over glimmering canals; their surfaces adorned with delicate runes that pulse with energy.

Erhorn leans over me and points out the window. “You see that area right over there? All those bridges lead to different districts within the city. If we get the time, I’ll show them to you girls before we return home.”

Ava can’t withdraw her eyes from what looks to be a garden. I give Erhorn a gentle nudge and point in Ava’s direction.

“Ahh… I see you have spotted the Gardens of Lumina. Year round, luminous flora bloom in hues of amethyst and sapphire.”

Ava turns her head to face Erhorn, and she smiles with shy excitement.

“Is that… a library?!” I cry out with delight, taking in the ivory spires of the building that reach towards the heavens. Erhorn replies with only a smile and a nod.

We pass through a market where traders haggle over moonfruit and starfire crystals, their voices echoing against the marble facades. The fountains dance with liquid moonbeams, and the wind chimes sing melodies from distant realms. And there, at the heart of it all, stands the Palace. Its opal walls shimmer, and its magnificent arches frame a view of the astral sea beyond.

King Varitan stands upon a balcony above its entrance, surveying his domain with eyes that hold both wisdom and longing. Tall and regal, the Elven King possesses an otherworldly beauty. His golden hair cascading like a solar waterfall, spilling over his broad and heavy shoulders. He is dressed in robes spun from the finest fabrics, moving with a grace that defies mere Human understanding. Our carriage comes to a halt, and I step out, mouth agape as I take in my surroundings. I am in utter awe of its magical beauty .

Theo steps up and stands next to me at the entrance. “Have you heard the legends about the King and his lost love?” he asks.

“Lost love?” I look at him, puzzled.

“You’ve never come across this tale in your beloved books?” He quips. “Well guess what? His lost love—was a Human.”

“A Human? The king loved a Human?” I ask, staring up at him in disbelief. I had read countless stories of the Elven King’s valor in battle and his wisdom in ruling Eirina. But never once had I come across a tale revealing his heart.

“Yes,” Theo says, his voice barely above a whisper. “There are many versions to the legend. Some say she was betrothed to someone else and left the King. Others believe she was taken away by force. But all the legends agree on one thing—King Varitan never loved anyone after that.”

“What about the Queen?” I ask.

Theo looks down at me, a sad smile tugging the corners of his mouth. “Queen Lirea was a political alliance, nothing more,” he said. “Their marriage was arranged when they were both young. Yes, they learned to respect each other, even care for each other in their own way. But love,” he pauses, casting his eyes back towards the King who stood tall and distant as an enchanted obelisk, “love was something only the Human woman had managed to evoke from him.”

For a moment, Theo fell silent, his gaze becoming distant as if he was seeing something far beyond our immediate surroundings. Then he drew in a deep breath and continued. “Shortly after giving birth to Prince Ruvyn,” he said softly, “Queen Lirea’s strength which had carried her through years of loneliness and unrequited love finally gave out. She passed away under the silver light of a crescent moon, leaving both her son and her husband behind.”

“The tragedy of such a tale,” I say slowly, “is a lesson for us all.” I glance at Theo, his silhouette framed against the falling night. His usually expressive face is oddly somber under the moon’s pale light.

“I suppose there is wisdom in taking heed,” he concedes, rolling his shoulders back and giving me a lingering look that sets my heart aflutter. “Which brings us back to the point at hand—our clandestine friendship.”

I laugh then, unable to resist the bait he’d so casually thrown my way. “Well, if we’re taking pointers from legends, it seems we should indeed avoid each other like a plague.”

He smiles then, a beautiful, heartbreaking thing that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Perhaps you’re right. But I’ll ask you this—do you really want to?”

I open my mouth, ready to retort—and falter. “Theo…” His name is a sigh on my lips. The truth is, I don’t know what I want, what we could be or should be in this world. All I know is the pull—an undeniable, inexorable draw that yanks me towards him like a moth to flame.

“I thought not.” Theo’s voice is soft, almost tender as he takes a step closer. “And neither do I.”

In the heart of the royal palace, the throne room stands as a testament to the kingdom’s grandeur. Elevated on a dais, the King’s throne commands attention. The ornate craftsmanship shimmering under the soft glow of the chandeliers. The high ceilings are adorned with intricate frescoes that tell tales of heroism, while the vast windows bathe the chamber in a natural light. Velvet drapes and marble columns add to the solemn majesty, and the air is heavy with the scent of incense. Symbols of power, like the royal scepter and crown, are displayed with reverence, and the seating for the court is arranged to honor the throne’s central sanctity.

As we step closer towards the dais, King Varitan awaits—a figure of grace and sophistication. We all move towards the throne and lower ourselves in a respectful bow before the King. He acknowledges us with a nod and suddenly the weight of a thousand centuries settles upon my shoulders. The room seems to hold its breath as his voice reverberates off the marble floors beneath us.

“Lord Erhorn Santrell of Kaladis, tell me old friend, how was your journey?” But the King’s gaze doesn’t linger on Erhorn. It doesn’t even stray to Theo, whose gigantic wings make him hard to miss. No, King Varitan’s eyes are fixed—on me. Eyes that are ancient and piercing and filled with loneliness. It’s as if he seeks something within my very soul—a memory, a connection, something long lost in the records of existence.

Erhorn hesitates, clearly aware of the King’s examination of me. His response comes, measured and respectful, “Oh, it was fine, Your Grace. A little flooding delayed us about half a day, but otherwise, quite uneventful.”

I side-eye Theo, trying to stifle a snicker at the mention of our ‘uneventful’ travels.

Uneventful indeed…

“And who is this that you have accompanying you?” The King’s gaze remains locked onto me.

Erhorn responds, addressing the King as if his question pertained to everyone present. “Your Grace, these are my servant girls. They have come to assist with any work that might need to be done in preparation for the Fire Rites. This is Lenna Chastain, and her sister, Ava Chastain.” The girls each take a step forward and bow once more.

“And you?” The King points at me. “What is your name, young lady?”

I take a side glance at Erhorn, who is standing at my right. My voice cracks as I start to speak, prompting me to clear my throat before continuing.

“My name is Rosanhi Hepburn—Your Grace.”

The King pauses for a moment, contemplating. “Well, I have to say, Miss Rosanhi Hepburn, your name is a perfect fit for you.” He smiles, and my cheeks flush as his compliment lingers between us. I glance at Erhorn, who stands stoically by my side. His eyes convey a mixture of pride and caution. I wonder what secrets he keeps hidden beneath that composed veneer.

The King leans back in his ornate chair, fingers tapping rhythmically against the armrest. “Rosanhi Hepburn,” he repeats, savoring the syllables. “A name that dances like a flame would to a rose.”

I swallow, my throat still dry. “Thank you, Your Grace,” I manage, my voice steadier this time. “I am honored to be here.”

Erhorn once again steps forward, “Your Grace, I must bring to your attention that Rosanhi, although currently serving under me, is also tied to the man I suspect arrived yesterday. This man, Your Grace,” Erhorn continues, pausing for dramatic effect, “stands accused of murder, and Rosanhi just happens to be his wife.”

“Very well, thank you for informing me. Late is the night. You all must be exhausted. We can discuss this matter further over breakfast.” King Varitan stands up and clears his throat. “I would like it if Rosanhi would join us for breakfast rather than serve the breakfast. But please, until then, make yourselves at home within my palace. My steward will show you to your sleeping chambers. I bid you all… good night. You are dismissed.”

With a wave of King Varitan’s mighty hand, the steward standing next to him approaches us. “If you will please follow me.” He says with a bow.

Our sleeping chambers surpass my wildest expectations. Anticipating humble servants’ rooms, I was pleasantly surprised. Each of us received a private chamber—a perk of serving an esteemed Lord—although Ava and Lenna chose to share theirs. Which on the other hand, did not surprise me.

As I step into my room, I am immediately captivated by its ethereal beauty, a reflection of the city itself. The bed, carved from moonwood, emits a soft luminescence. Its canopy features silver-threaded curtains that sway like veils. Nestling into the feather-soft mattress eases the ache in my body. The cool, inviting silver silk sheets cradle me as I lie down.

Above, the ceiling displays a celestial mural—an intricate tapestry of constellations and galaxies. The fireplace crackles with dual flames of orange and blue, casting dancing shadows. On either side stands grand bookshelves, their volumes promising hidden knowledge. A small, plush sofa faces the hearth, adorned with a hand-woven throw blanket and an array of small pillows.

But what truly steals my breath is the pair of color-stained glass doors. I tear myself away from the bed and open them simultaneously finding a private balcony offering a breathtaking view of the city—a secret haven amidst the moon-kissed spires.

As I stand on the terrace, gazing at the stars, thoughts of Mikyl flood my mind. Guilt churns within me. How is it that I am the one feeling guilty? He betrayed me . He hurt me . He—essentially—abandoned me . We haven’t had a real conversation or touched each other romantically in over two long years. Wasn’t our marriage over long before the events of the last few days? Is there even a chance that the King will find him innocent and allow him to return home? If so, can we mend our shattered relationship?

Do I even want that?

And what about Theo? A gentle ache begins to pulse in my temples. A cool burst of air rushes around me and I hear the soft flapping of wings. I look up to find Theo hovering above my head.

“Mind if I come down?” He asks.

I step aside, allowing him to drift down and land on the pavement beside me. My gaze remains fixed on the vast expanse before us. Theo’s warm hand grazes me from one shoulder to the other, igniting a fire that courses through my entire body.

“What troubles you tonight, Rose?” His voice is gentle, filled with concern.

“It’s just…” I hesitate, my emotions tangled. “Nevermind. You wouldn’t understand.”

Theo’s eyes search mine, and to my surprise, I do find understanding there. I had expected jealousy, but instead, he speaks softly. “It’s Mikyl, isn’t it? He’s the source of your troubles. ”

I nod, unable to deny it. “Yes. We have had many years together, and it didn’t end as I’d hoped. But there are good memories, too.” My heart aches, torn between past and present.

Theo’s fingers brush my cheek, and he leans closer.

“A first love leaves an indelible mark,” he pauses to wipe a tear that has strayed from my eye. “Rose, it’s okay to feel sadness for what has been lost. But perhaps there’s room in your heart for something new. Maybe even for me.”

His words hang in the air, and I wonder if love can truly find a way to bloom again amidst the remnants of what once was.

Theo steps behind me, his touch gentle as he caresses my shoulders. Gathering my long, wavy hair to one side, he places a soft kiss at the nape of my neck. An electrifying shiver races down my spine. His whispered words reach me, promising distraction. Physical desire takes hold, and I lean into his touch, my head falling back against his broad shoulder. His lips continue their journey upward, tasting the curve of my ear before whispering, “You’re not alone, Rose. Not anymore.”

My skin prickles with a delicate shiver as I turn to face him. He looks at me with eyes that carry the weight of centuries, yet sparkle with untamed youth, a hunger for life, for love. Everything about Theo contradicts Mikyl—the flame to his ice, the light to his shadow.

“I…” My voice trails off as I contemplate my feelings. His hands find mine and our fingers interlock naturally as if they we re crafted to fit together. “Maybe there’s a way to take your mind off things.” His hands glide around to my front. Just under my ear, he kisses my neck again, breathing warmth into my skin. My breathing intensifies as he gently caresses my belly moving further up until he finds my breasts, cupping them gently.

“Do you want me to stop?” he asks quietly against the shell of my ear.

I consider his question seriously. Physically, each touch from Theo is like a wellspring desire that awakens every nerve in my body. But emotionally, the scars left behind by Mikyl still ache, making me hesitate on this precipice of possible new beginnings.

With a sigh, I lean deeper into Theo, giving into the solace he brings. The weight of my decision seems lighter when wrapped in the security of his arms. My lips find his in a passionate kiss. Our eyes lock and we stay there, briefly. His fingers deftly unbutton my dress, revealing my white cotton bra underneath. He trails his lips down my neck, over the swell of my breasts, and to the valley between them. As he plants tender kisses there, I can feel his hands slide my bra straps down over my shoulders, allowing my breasts to feel the night’s cool air. My nipples harden as the wind brushes over them.

Theo’s fingers trace delicate patterns on my skin, sending another shiver down my spine. He looks up at me, his eyes filled with desire. He leans in, lightly capturing my nipple in his mouth and teasing it with his tongue. I gasp at the sensation, my fingers tangle in his hair and I pull him up to kiss me again. His other hand continues to discover my body, moving down to my hips and then slowly sliding under the waistband of my underwear. He deepens his kiss, his tongue probing and exploring my mouth. I can feel his arousal growing as he presses himself against me.

“Wait.” I gasp “I can’t. We can’t.” Theo looks at me with his sultry golden eyes.

“Relax. Tonight is all about you.” He whispers, guiding me back into the room with a gentle touch. “My only desire in this entire world is to make you happy. I want you to get a taste of what life with me could be like,” he pauses, looking deep into my eyes, feral and ravenous, “but the only thing I need a taste of—is you.”

I allow my dress to fall to the floor and stand before him, utterly vulnerable. The only thing covering my skin is those white cotton panties. He picks me up by my waist with ease and gently lays me back on the bed, the silky sheets envelope me and I bask in the feeling of their comfort.

Theo climbs onto the bed, his body hovering over mine. His hands brush my hair away from my face and he gazes into my eyes. I can see the passion and desire burning within him. He leans down, lips meeting mine in a deep, sultry kiss. As his kiss deepens, I feel his hand move again towards the waistband of my panties. He slowly begins to slide them down, revealing my most intimate parts to him. His touch is gentle, yet firm, as he explores my body with a tender touch. His fingers dance over my skin, igniting a fire within.

Why does this feel so wrong… but so… so right?

His lips leave mine as he trails a path of kisses down my body, over my collarbone and down my chest. He pauses to lavish attention on each breast, teasing my nipples with his tongue before continuing his descent. Theo’s lips find my belly button, planting soft kisses there as he makes his way down to the apex of my thighs. I can feel my heart pounding in my chest, my breath hitching with each slow and gentle pressure of his lips on my bare skin.

His fingers continue to tease and tantalize me with every movement. As he gently parts my thighs, exposing my most sensitive area to his stare, he looks up at me, seeking permission with his eyes.

My face flushes with heat but I nod, giving him the go-ahead.

He leans in, his warm breath tickling my skin as his tongue flicks out to taste me. I inhale sharply at the electric sensation, my hips instinctively bucking up to meet his skilled mouth. His tongue tasting and teasing every inch of me. He takes his time, savoring every moment as he worships my body with his mouth. His fingers continue to dance over my skin, adding to the swirling mix of sensations building within me. He takes his hands and lifts my legs to dangle over his shoulders, pinning his ears between my thighs, my bare feet grazing his soft feathery wings .

Theo’s tongue continues to work its magic, and I can feel myself getting closer and closer to the edge. My breath comes in short, sharp gasps, and my fingers tighten in the sheets beneath me. He seems to sense my approaching climax because his movements are becoming more urgent, his tongue flicks faster and faster against me. Just as I’m about to tip over the edge, he slows down, drawing out the pleasure and building the tension even higher. He looks up at me, a playful glint in his golden eyes.

“Not yet,” he murmurs. “I want to savor every moment with you.” I let out a frustrated moan, my body begging for release. Gods it had been so long.

He resumes his ministrations, his tongue exploring me with renewed vigor. I can feel myself getting closer and closer to the edge once again. Slowly then, tentatively, he slips a finger within me. I can’t hold back the gasp that escapes my lips, nor do I want to. His name slips out like a prayer whispered fervently into the silence of the night.

A gentle thrust followed by another and another as he cradles me in this cyclone of pleasure with him being its eye-calm and focus while everything around pauses in anticipation of my climax. His rhythm is steady yet relentless turning me into a quivering mess under him as pleasure sweeps over me like waves crashing upon rocks—intense and sublime.

I cry out, my body trembling as wave after wave of ecstasy crashes over me. I have found my release, but he doesn’t stop. He continues to pour his attention on me, his tongue and fingers working in tandem to draw out my orgasm for as long as possible. Only to bring it on once more.

As the sensations begin to subside, I become aware of my surroundings once again. Theo is still between my legs, his wings gently fluttering as he catches his breath. His lips are curled up in a satisfied smile, and his eyes are shining. Evidence of my gratification drips from his chin.

He slowly crawls up my body, settling himself beside me on the bed. His arms wrap around me, enfolding me in a warm embrace. I can feel his heart beating in time with mine, and I rest my head on his chest. We lay there in silence, basking in the afterglow of our passion.

“I’ve never experienced anything quite like that. I thought I had before, but this was entirely different.” I say, still catching my breath.

He chuckles softly, his chest vibrating beneath my head. “I’m glad you enjoyed it,” he says, his voice warm and affectionate. “I’ve been wanting to do that for a while now.”

He trails his fingers gently up and down my back, tracing patterns on my skin, and I find myself relaxing even further into his embrace.

I can feel the sweat drying on my skin, and the cool air of the room causes goosebumps to rise on my arms. I realize now we had accidentally left the balcony doors open. But Theo’s wings provide a warm, comforting barrier against the chill. I begin to slip into slumber, my tension at ease and the edges of consciousness softening like the fading light at dusk. My mind drifts, carried away on the gentle currents of dreams.