Lady of Shadows (Lady of Darkness #2)

Chapter 42 Sorin

CHAPTER 42

SORIN

T he window over the huge bathing tub told him it was well into the night as Sorin lay beside Scarlett, making lazy strokes from between her breasts down to her navel and back up. He took in that naked female laying beside him, her wild mass of silver hair splayed around her like metallic paint splattered onto a canvas. The crown she’d summoned for herself lay on the bedside table near them. She’d removed it after he’d flipped her onto her stomach, and it had fallen to the side. She had simply plucked it from her hair, throwing it to the ground as he had given her what she’d begged for.

Repeatedly.

He had retrieved the crown from the floor as he had headed down to the kitchen to get them some wine. When he’d returned, she had taken the glass from his hand, downed the entire thing, and dragged him back down onto the bed with her. Sorin had experienced her wildness in her training. He had watched her wildfire prowl beneath her skin on a daily basis. Her letting herself be free in bed with him? She was a whirlwind he would never get enough of.

He would never forget his terror when she appeared in the council room at the White Halls. That terror had quickly been replaced by utter admiration as he beheld her decked out in witch-attire, as Death’s Maiden stared down the Fae Queen and bound Azrael Luan with her shadows. Then those eyes had turned to him. When she had held up her left hand with the Mark, his knees had nearly buckled. When she spoke the Claiming Rite, he felt like he could take a full breath, like his lungs had been incapable of fully inhaling since he took his own Mark months ago. In a matter of moments, his power had come roaring back to its full strength.

Then this amazing female beside him claimed her throne and stepped into a role she had been destined for. How she had finally accepted that was a story he was anxious to hear.

Now, however, she was tracing the dark ink that adorned his chest, his Marks signaling various loyalties and pacts made. He hissed as the tip of her finger turned icy cold against his skin. She just laughed at him, a silvery lilting sound that was more beautiful than her piano music. “Cruel, wicked thing,” he crooned against her temple, pressing a kiss to it.

Her attention had turned to his twin flame Mark, and she held up her own left hand, comparing the two. “Why has it grown?” she asked.

Indeed, the Mark had once flowed from the back of their hands down their thumb and index fingers. Now it had progressed to their middle fingers as well. “They are the Trial Markings.” She frowned at him as she contemplated his answer. “Do you remember on the beach when I first told you about the twin flame? I told you the connection had to be tested.”

“Five trials,” she said quietly, holding her hand in the air above her head, studying it.

He nodded his head. “Yes. They can be done in any order and at any time, except for the first and the last ones.” With his own finger, he touched the tip of her thumb. “The first is The Claiming. When you accept and acknowledge that the twin flame bond exists. Speaking the Claiming Rite initiates the Trials and offers up a piece of your soul to the other. The second,” he said, moving to her pointer finger, “is The Rescuing.”

“When you rescued me from the Lairwood House,” she said, looking back at her hand.

“Yes and no,” Sorin answered. “That was my rescuing of you, but also when you rescued me by accepting the Mark and restoring my weakened magic and life force.” She looked at him in surprise, and he chuckled. “I can’t be doing all the work, Princess.”

“I am a Queen, you know,” she retorted, flicking his nose.

“Would you rather I call you your Majesty?” he teased with a raised brow.

“No, no,” she said, waving her hand in mock dismissal. “I don’t want you to feel outranked. I know how territorial you Fae males are.” Sorin snorted, nipping at her earlobe. “We had those two before,” she continued. “What is the new one?”

Sorin gave her a feral grin. “The Joining.”

“Hmm,” she mused. “Shouldn’t we have several new Marks by now then?”

Sorin barked another laugh, brushing a kiss to her lips. His equal in every way. His mirror. Someone he thought he’d never have. “The Joining is physical, yes,” he said. “But it is also the joining of our souls and our magic.”

“And the fourth Trial?”

“The Sacrifice,” he explained. “It will test what we are willing to give for each other, for our bond.”

“What of the fifth?”

“The final Trial is The Anointing and can only be given after the other four have been received,” Sorin answered.

“How do we get it?” She was still studying her Mark.

“When we have the first four Trials completed, the connection must be anointed by a Seer who can confirm and bless the bond.”

Her eyes jumped to his. “A Seer? We must go to the Oracle?”

“There are plenty of Seers in the realms. The Oracle is simply the most powerful, the most ancient of them, but any Witch would have some sort of Seer gift, even if it is not their dominant one,” Sorin explained. His fingers had begun roaming over her again. He couldn’t help it. He needed to touch her, feel her. He needed his scent all over her. He had downplayed how possessive males became of their lovers when he had spoken of it in the Earth Court. It only got worse if they took a wife. And if they found their twin flame? He was not looking forward to being around others for quite some time, not even his family.

Scarlett frowned at him. “So we must go back to the Witch Kingdoms?”

“We could,” Sorin said, his tone considering. “Or we could use the Witch that already serves in our Court.”

Scarlett’s eyes widened. “A Witch lives here? In the Fire Court?”

“A select few do, yes,” Sorin answered with a smile. “If they enter into a covenant with a prince or princess of the Courts.” He pointed to a Mark that was inked on the inside of his right forearm, just below the crease of his elbow. It was a black whirl of stars and moons. “You will find a similar Mark on Beatrix, our Healer.”

“Beatrix is a Witch?” She was tracing the Mark he had shown her now.

“All Healers are Witches. Beatrix’s dominant gift is healing, and she is one of the most skilled in all the realms, but she possesses the other Witch gifts of prophecy and apothecary as well.”

“So we get this last Trial done, we go see Beatrix, she anoints our connection, and then what? Will we be married?” Scarlett mused.

“I suppose, for all intents and purposes, yes, but the twin flame bond is deeper than any marriage bond,” Sorin said, watching his own finger tracing around her nipples.

She huffed a sarcastic sigh. “These Fae customs are so complicated. In the human lands, they just exchange rings.”

“My Love, if a ring will make you happy, we can do that, too. If you want a grand ceremony and party, then we shall have one. If you want to shout it from the rooftops, I shall find the tallest building,” he said, leaning down to kiss where his finger had just been tracing.

“Gods, no,” Scarlett said, with a shade of disgust in her tone, running her fingers through his hair. “A ring shall do just fine. In the meantime, though, before we’re Anointed or whatever, what will we be?”

“Beatrix can still sanctify a marriage so that it is official for…political purposes, until the twin flame bond is Anointed,” Sorin answered.

“Hmm,” she hummed, her attention having returned to her own Mark. Her lips were pursed and quirked to the side. He could tell she was thinking deeply about something. “That would probably be a good idea.”

“Why?” he questioned, his fingers now lightly grazing up and down her hip and thigh.

“Do I need a reason to want to marry you?”

“No, but you always have a reason,” he returned with a knowing glance. Her eyes were different. The icy blue was paler, almost silvery.

“Maybe I just want to be able to call you husband.”

“That would certainly be a step up from all the names you usually call me,” he retorted.

“Careful, Prince,” she crooned sensuously, “we may be twin flames, but I will still throw down with you.”

Sorin chuckled, brushing another kiss to her lips. She hissed at him, but kissed him back. “You produced white flames today. On purpose,” he said, pulling back and looking into her eyes once more.

“I did. I… The Oracle helped remove some obstacles that…” She sighed, and it made him wonder what exactly had happened with the Oracle. “She answered some questions, but it also created about a hundred new ones. And she did help me overcome some things that were keeping me from accessing my full well of power.”

“Your power will already be feared among the rest of the world, but when our magic is bonded…” Sorin couldn’t help the shudder that went through him. He had felt it. He had felt their magic playing and joining and intertwining while they’d been doing the same with their physical bodies. Thinking out loud, he mused, “If we ever have children, their power could be extraordinary.”

Scarlett went rigid beside him. “Do you take a tonic?”

“Yes, Scarlett,” he answered softly, stroking a finger down her cheek. “I take a monthly aid.”

She ran a hand down her face. “Thank the gods.” Her eyes closed for a moment before she opened them and met his gaze. “Sorin, children… I…”

“Relax, Love. That is a discussion we can have down the road.”

“Far down the road,” she said pointedly.

“When you are ready,” he confirmed.

“I mean, I know you said it is difficult for Fae to conceive children, and my cycle has never been exactly normal—”

Sorin brushed a kiss to her mouth, silencing her rambling. “Scarlett, I did not bring up children as a way of saying I wanted them right now. Yes, children are rare for Fae, and should we have them someday, they will be a blessing, but not now. Right now, I want you all to myself.” He felt the tension ease from her muscles some. “As for your cycle…” Her eyes flew back to his, widening. “It was not normal for mortals, I suppose, but I am guessing you experience it every season rather than every month.”

“Oh my gods.” Her hands came up and covered her face, but he could see the slight flush to her cheeks. “I do not even want to know why you know about Fae menstrual cycles,” she muttered from beneath her hands. Sorin laughed, and she slowly lowered her hands. “Seriously. Why do you know that?”

“I did have basic anatomy in my lessons, Love,” he laughed. “But Talwyn wasn’t lying. I did help raise her in many ways. You learn things, even if you do not want to, when you are put in that situation.”

“That’s weird,” she muttered again.

He felt her finger begin tracing his Marks once more, and he didn’t think this would ever get old. These completely normal moments with her in his bed speaking of random things. When he wasn’t a prince and she wasn’t a queen, and they were just…together.

“What are you thinking?” she asked, drawing his attention back to her.

“That you are perfect. This is perfect,” he answered softly.

He felt her hook her finger under his chin and pull his mouth up to her own. He scented her desire a moment later. He was about to appease her once more when he felt a slight tug on his mind. Inwardly, he groaned.

Scarlett’s eyes snapped wide open. “What was that?”

He shouldn’t have been surprised she felt it, too. Their twin flame bond was almost completed, but that she had felt the tug still caught him off guard. “Your cousin summons me,” he answered grimly.

“Talwyn? Why?”

“I would venture to guess it has something to do with our little discussion with Azrael earlier,” he muttered.

“But you do not have to go, right?”

“Technically no, but…” he trailed off.

“But you want to go?” she said with a small smile, angling her head. She kept it off her face, but he felt the small hurt down their bond.

“My Love, what I want to do is stay here for the next week and fuck you in every room and on every surface of this house,” he purred, bringing her eyes back to his.

“Then what is stopping you?” she crooned back, her hand sliding down his chest, down his abdomen.

At the same moment, a flame appeared near his head. She paused her descent as he reached up and plucked the note from the fire message, skimming it quickly. “According to Cyrus, she sent word she will be at the Fiera Palace at dawn.” Then he added, “She tends to throw quite the fit when she does not get what she wants.”

Scarlett rolled her eyes, grumbling, “It seems to be a Fae trait.”

“You do know you are Fae, my Love, do you not?” he asked in amusement.

“I know, but I wasn’t raised Fae. It’s different. I learned to use my words when I am upset.”

“You learned to use daggers and violence,” he said pointedly.

“Semantics,” she replied with a fiendish gleam in her eyes, rolling onto her side to face him. Her bare breasts rubbed against his chest as she gave him an enticing smile.

“Your wickedness,” he ground out, “rivals the Witches, Princess.”

She laughed, low and seductive. “Stay, and I will show you just how wicked I can be.” But then, “Are you serious?” She flopped back onto her pillow.

A mass of snowflakes had appeared near Sorin’s head now, and he winced slightly. “I tried to warn you.” He reached up and pulled a note from the flurries, this one from Briar. Apparently, Talwyn had summoned him as well. Of course, he didn’t know Scarlett had claimed their Courts, and thus their allegiance was now to her. He sighed. “May I make a proposal?”

“Do I have a choice?”

“You always have a choice,” he answered gently. He leaned down and brushed a featherlight kiss to her lips. “Let’s go home and ,” he continued over her groan, “let’s find Beatrix, have her sanctify a marriage, and see what Talwyn has to say. Then we can spend the next few days here, all by ourselves.”

She seemed to consider, then said, “The next week. I rather like your earlier idea.”

“Deal, Princess,” he replied, leaning in to kiss her again. Then he slid from the bed before he, or she, could take things any further. “Get ready, Love,” he said over the protesting curses she was muttering under her breath. As he said it, the tub near the window began to fill with steaming water.

Scarlett sat up while he walked around the end of the bed. “Get ready here? All I have is that red dress. I have no idea what you did with my witch-clothes.”

He took her in, sitting naked amongst the mess of sheets and goosefeather down comforter. It took all of his self-control not to get right back in that bed with her. “Check the armoire,” he said, sliding on his pants and walking to the bedroom door.

“And where are you going?” she asked, her eyes narrowing.

Sorin stopped at the threshold and looked over his shoulder. “I am removing myself from temptation.”

Her answering scowl had him hiding a smirk as he walked out of the room to leave her to get ready.