Lady of Shadows (Lady of Darkness #2)

Chapter 4 Sorin

CHAPTER 4

SORIN

I t took every ounce of Sorin’s self-control not to look over his shoulder as he led Scarlett through his bedroom to his private bath. The desire coursing through his veins from her fingers on his skin…gods. If Briar hadn’t been in that room, he would have been all over her. He would have risked that wrath and that darkness. She was a storm he didn’t know that he’d survive.

The giant tub was finishing filling as they entered. He had almost dropped to his knees when he had come out of the study to find her up and walking about. Her magic was still out of control. The shadows still wreathed her, but she was awake and color had returned to her face. He walked to the edge of the tub, stopping beside a low table with various towels and soaps. He finally turned to Scarlett.

She stood at the edge of the tub near the steps. She still wore his shirt and some primal part of him gave an internal satisfied smirk to see her in it, covered in his scent. He had inwardly flinched when she’d stepped away from his touch in the sitting room. Her shadows had not burned him today, though, not like they had apparently bit at Briar. They had coiled around him tentatively, as if feeling him out, trying to decide how they felt about him. She was different, yet the same. She had been beautiful before, but in her Fae form, she was stunning. She toed the water and jerked her foot back.

“It’s freezing,” she scowled.

Sorin simply waved a hand over the water and steam instantly began wafting from the surface. “Show off,” he heard her mutter under her breath as she unfastened the belt around her waist.

When she started with the buttons of the shirt, he cleared his throat and started for the door. “Enjoy your bath,” he said, his voice husky.

She cocked her head to the side as she said, “You have questions to answer.”

He paused. “I will answer every single one when you are ready, Scarlett.”

“Then I am ready now.”

His throat went dry as the shirt slid to a pile on the floor, and she stepped into the enormous tub. He could swear those shadows receded, taunting him with the view of her naked body. She had always had little regard for propriety. He’d learned that quickly enough. He would never forget the morning she had spoken to him on the stairs in little more than a silk bathrobe. Her words from moments ago floated back to him. I just haven’t decided how thoroughly I want to break you…

This would certainly be a good fucking start to that, and she knew it. She had always known how to use every weapon available to her.

He walked back to the edge of the tub as she went under the water. He could see her drift a little ways underneath before she came back to the surface.

“You have tattoos now,” she said, lifting her long hair between her fingers as it floated around her in the water. Her voice was different than it had been in the sitting room, almost far away sounding, like she was in some kind of trance.

Sorin leaned against the wall near the tub, trying to keep his eyes on her face. “The cost of the glamour to keep my Fae form hidden was that my Marks were also hidden and nullified.”

Scarlett merely nodded. He had seen a little of the real Scarlett break through in their light bantering in the drawing room, but she had retreated back into some sort of shell. The place she went to survive. He didn’t know if he should speak or remain silent. He chose the latter. She reached for some soap and washed her long hair, and when she surfaced from rinsing it out, she said in that same unsure voice, “This is not a dream.” Not a question, but a statement, as through trying to reassure herself.

“This is real, Scarlett,” he answered.

“How do I know? There was so much that seemed real before…” she trailed off, biting her bottom lip.

“Love, look at me.” Sorin waited until she brought those icy blue eyes to his own. “This. Is. Real. You are safe.”

“Safe? With you?” She tilted her head to the side, seeming amused. “Such an interesting word choice, Prince, but you’ve always been a master of wordplay, haven’t you?”

“Scarlett.” Her name was a plea on his lips.

She said nothing. Just slid under the water again, a few bubbles rising to the surface when she let out air before coming up again.

“I have so many things to say to you. So many things to scream at you. I can hardly stand to be in the same room with you,” she said quietly. Sorin felt as if her shadows were tightening around his throat again. That’s how much of an effort breathing became at her words. “And yet I again find myself without a choice because you are the only person who can give me any answers…providing you don’t withhold information.”

The venom and hatred in her tone was palpable, but gods, watching the water move around her, seeing her breasts, her bare body. He could hardly focus.

He swallowed hard. “Can we please discuss this anywhere else?”

“Why?”

“Because watching you in the water with nothing on is not easy, and you know that.”

A sensuous smile formed on Scarlett’s mouth. “You do not wish to join me?” she asked, tilting her head to the side again.

“That is all I wish to do. I wish to enter that tub and show you exactly how sorry I am. To make you believe that I would never intentionally hurt you,” he ground out. “But not when you…have just woken up.”

“Why was I naked when I woke up?”

“You burned through all your clothing. Repeatedly. When your shadows would allow anyone to try and clothe you that is.”

She nodded slightly, then she went under the water again, for much longer this time. He could see her, sitting on the bottom of the giant tub, her eyes closed. One minute. Two. Three. He was about to jump in after her when she pushed to the surface, gasping for breath.

“Scarlett, please get out,” he rasped. He was about to jump in anyway at this point, but she moved to the steps. She climbed out, water dripping down her bare skin. He grabbed a towel from the low table and walked the few feet to her, wrapping it around her shoulders.

He paused when she met his stare and held it. “Say it, Scarlett. I can take it.”

Instead, she stepped back from him, gripping the towel around herself. “Do you have any other clothes besides shirts for big muscled Fae?”

Sorin huffed a soft laugh. “Yes, Love, they’re out on the bed for you.”

“Don’t call me that,” she said as she left the bathing room.

He gave her plenty of time to get dressed before he finally walked out to his own bedroom. He found her on the balcony in a red, long-sleeve top that exposed her midriff when paired with the loose black pants that hung low on her hips. There wasn’t even a scar where she had been stabbed with a shirastone dagger. She seemed to be gripping the railing, her knuckles white, and her shadows had thickened again.

She looked over her shoulder as he approached, then back out to the Fiera Mountains that stretched before them. “How is it so warm out here?”

“I am the Prince of Fire. I can keep my home plenty warm,” he answered, leaning against the doorway. She stiffened at the mention of his title, and when she didn’t speak again, he asked, “You are suddenly afraid of heights?”

Scarlett seemed to realize she had a death grip on the railing and lowered her hands, fisting them at her sides. “The last time I was in such a high room, I was not permitted to leave.”

Realization slammed into him. Sorin closed the distance between them in a heartbeat. He took her face between his hands and said, “Scarlett Monrhoe, you are allowed to leave this room, these chambers, this palace, whenever your heart desires. In fact, once you have learned to wield your magic, you can leave these lands whenever you desire. You are no one’s object to be kept in a room.”

Those icy blue eyes locked onto his. “You’re touching me,” she whispered.

“It’s a necessity,” he answered.

A single tear slid down her cheek, and Sorin gently wiped it away with his thumb. She leaned forward, her forehead resting against his shoulder, and he brought his arms around her. With a thought, her wet hair was dry, and he stroked it, breathing her in. Her shadows swirled around him tentatively. He’d been watching her sleep for days, grateful she’d been asleep for what her body went through to overcome the withdrawal of that drugging tonic. But what had she endured in her dreams? What had occurred to make her question reality so much?

“I hate that you made me hate you.”

“I hate that I did that too,” he managed around the lump in his throat.

“I wish I didn’t hate you because I need you, and I can’t have you,” she whispered, and she pushed herself away from him.

He’d been wrong.

He couldn’t take it as he watched her walk away from him and back into the bedroom.

S CARLETT

Scarlett settled into one of the overstuffed armchairs near the fireplace in Sorin’s bedroom. The fire crackled in the hearth. She pulled her knees into her chest, hugging them close. The shadows caressed her face, her arms. She was safe. This was real. She wasn’t going to marry Mikale. She wasn’t locked high in a room.

She could see it all. That bronze and black room with the uncomfortable bed. The look of triumph on Mikale’s face every time he entered. His viciousness each time he forced her tonic down her throat. Plunging a dagger into Juliette’s heart. Veda stabbing Cassius. Nuri bleeding out. Mikale taking her in an old office. Mikale—

“I didn’t know if you were hungry,” Sorin said, coming in from the great room and pulling her from her thoughts. She jumped, and he gave her an apologetic look. He carried two plates piled high with fruit, roasted chicken, bread, and cheese.

“Thank you,” she said quietly as he set the plates on an end table near her chair. She didn’t even glance at the food. Sorin sat in the chair opposite her, his unbuttoned shirt falling open to reveal his toned body and those tattoos once more. “So you’ve always had those?”

Sorin followed her gaze to his chest where a Mark adorned the upper left side. “I always had most of them, yes,” he replied. “They were hidden by the glamour.”

Scarlett gave a slight nod of her head. “And that one?” she asked, nodding towards his left hand.

“That one is new, but a tale for another time,” Sorin answered, studying the Mark that flowed along the back of his hand and down two fingers. Scarlett gave him a scrutinizing look, and she could have sworn he squirmed a little. “I swear to you, Scarlett. The Mark has a meaning, and I will share it with you, but there are some other things we need to discuss first.”

Scarlett looked away from him to the windows. “You live in the mountains."

“Yes, but when fire runs in your veins you don’t mind the cold,” he shrugged.

“I didn’t mean it was a bad thing. They’re beautiful.” Scarlett still hugged her legs to her chest and rested her chin on her knees. “How long did I sleep?”

“Five days.”

Five days? Holy gods. And yet she found herself utterly exhausted. She found herself wishing she could just crawl back into bed. She didn’t have to feel when she slept. She didn’t have to deal with all of this.

She took a deep breath before she said, “If you aren’t planning to…use me or turn me over to the Fae Queen, why didn’t you tell me about my mother sooner? When you figured it out?”

“Because I didn’t quite believe it. I still don’t know how it is possible. I told you that Queen Henna went to fight Esmeray because the Western Fae Queen didn’t have an heir. When Esmeray learned that Queen Henna had a daughter a few years after she had killed her, she came back once more and killed Queen Eliné’s husband to ensure an heir would not be born in her line either. As far as I knew, she had never had another companion she would have considered having a child with, and I did not scent a child on her the last time I saw her,” Sorin replied.

“You can scent that on someone?” Scarlett asked, her brows rising in surprise.

Sorin’s head tilted to the side. “You will quickly find that you can scent emotions and…other things with your heightened Fae senses.”

Not sure what to exactly think of that, Scarlett asked instead, “So you can’t be sure your Queen Eliné was my mother then. Maybe my mother just had the same name.”

“Scarlett.” His tone was impossibly gentle and overly patient, like he knew she didn’t want to hear or believe any of this. “Only the Fae Queens exhibit more than one power. Even if a Fae child has parents from different Courts, they will still only possess one power. Eliné’s gifts were water and fire. Just like yours.”

“That makes me what, then? A princess of the Fae lands somehow?”

“That is currently up for debate,” Sorin answered. “You are a princess of the realm, yes, but you could also rule.”

She finally turned to look at him. “How could I possibly rule a land I know nothing about?”

“It is your birthright,” Sorin replied simply.

“I grew up in a world where birthright and privilege decided how you were treated in life,” Scarlett answered bitterly. “That is not a world I would wish to be a part of any longer.”

Sorin tilted his head, a contemplative look in his eyes. “Those are the words of a wise ruler, Princess.”

“Stop calling me that,” she snapped, hugging her knees closer. “It is not my desire to rule anyone. I know what it is like to have masters. I do not wish to be anyone’s.”

“The queen will be happy to hear that,” Sorin retorted, resentment cutting into his tone.

“The Fae Queen?”

“Yes.”

“You can say her name here?”

“Yes.”

“I’m really not in the mood to have to pry things out of you,” Scarlett said, exasperation heavy in her voice.

“Talwyn. Her name is Talwyn Semiria. She would also be your cousin, I suppose.”

Gods, she had a cousin. A blooded family member. Who wanted to use her somehow for revenge for the death of her mother and father and aunt, apparently. But the death of her aunt would be…

“Sorin?”

“Yeah, Love?”

She winced at the pet name. “If you were so close to my mother, why the fuck did you have her killed?”