Soul of Ice (Chronicles of Dawn)

Chapter Sixteen

Surina awoke the next morning, her head foggy and throat constricted. Surprisingly enough, as she flopped onto her side, she noticed that a pitcher of water with an empty crystal glass awaited.

Had someone brought this in while she was sleeping? It took her more than a few moments to recollect all that she’d encountered last night, much of it that she wanted to forget.

Like the body in library.

It was a fae servant who found the male in the library—her screams that rang through the halls.

The memory of his hollow green eyes tugged at Surina’s heart, because it reminded her of Frasier’s eyes. There was something terrifying and wrong about the two deaths, and she couldn’t explain it, but it felt like they were connected somehow. They had to be.

Rising from her bed, Surina steadied herself on a post before making her way towards the washroom, downing a glass of water on the way. The sun was already rising, and she thought it strange that Galen hadn’t stopped by to wake her for training. She assumed Moira canceled again, though she hoped that wasn’t the case.

While she’d expended a lot of magic yesterday, her body’s urge to connect with the tethers around her was maddening. The air, the water in the pitcher, the earth and stone of the mountains—she stirred the winds around her just to quell its reach. She’d like to blame the chaos of her mind and body on the scourge of death over the past few days, but really, it was so much more than that.

Bringing her fingers to her lips in the mirror, they appeared a shade darker than usual—the friction from Ezra’s kiss had marked her with a pleasant burn. Her eyes closed, and she dragged her fingers down from her mouth to where he’d pressed kisses to her throat. A warmth bloomed in her chest as her mind succumbed to the images of those blue-green irises between her thighs.

Gods , was she insane ? What had gotten into her last night? One kiss from the king and she’d offered herself up so easily—had all but begged him for more. And she almost got what she wanted.

“You’re an idiot,” she groaned, dipping her hands into the basin of frigid water, the shocking cold simmering the heated treachery of her heart. “And you look like shit too.”

With a quick wash, she patted her face dry, finding her frown in the mirror as she studied the dark circles lining the undersides of her eyes.

She supposed she should thank Ezra. Had he not remained through the night, she wouldn’t have gotten what little sleep she did manage.

Ezra hadn’t stayed in her bedchamber, though his presence in the other room was enough to help her sleep somewhat peacefully. She’d even left the door cracked to allow the light from the drawing room fire in, every so often catching a soft breath of his scent. Surely last night couldn’t have been another one of his games, not if he was willing to stay with her, and all that he’d freely admitted to her.

Sighing, she pulled away from the vanity to dress for the day, changing into her usual gear for lessons. She would go to the training grounds with or without formal instruction, so Surina donned a gray blouse with a black leather bodice cinched over top. After sliding into her leather breeches and boots, and retwining her hair into a simple braid, she strolled into the drawing room, which she completely expected to be empty.

Surina halted short of the nearest armchair, choking down a scream when she found Ezra, lounging against the ivory sofa across from her, silently flipping through the pages of the scaled dragon book. She assumed he’d be long gone by now, considering the sun was out.

He pulled the book back a little, allowing half of his face to show, including the upturned corner of his lip as he looked her up and down.

A warm blush heated her cheeks—she didn’t look half as polished as last night, but he didn’t seem to mind, and that only made her flush spread.

Ezra looked different too. Since he typically slept during the Court of the Sun, she rarely ever saw him in the daylight. But fae never slept for long, and she always wondered what they did in the east wing while they awaited evening court. Either way, Ezra was king, He could come and go whenever he pleased, night or day. He just… didn’t.

It suited him, though, the sunlight. The way it reflected off his dark hair—which was slightly more disheveled than usual. She also noticed he hadn’t changed into new clothes, wearing the same charcoal-tinted blouse and dark breeches. Had he stayed this entire time?

“How did you sleep?” He broke the silence, his voice low. Not low enough to sound like he’d recently woken up.

“Fine. Thank you for staying,” she mumbled softly, starting to walk towards him before ultimately deciding against it.

He noticed.

Sitting up from the arm of the sofa, Ezra plopped the text onto the low-lying table. Without the book covering most of his face, she thought his eyes looked more blue than green in the sun’s rays. He was far more striking in the light.

With a weary grin, Ezra stretched a hand in her direction. “Sit with me?”

“I’m fine here,” she said quickly, leaning her weight into the arm of the chair at her side.

He moved with immortal speed, his sudden appearance forcing her to fumble backwards, her rear planting onto the chair’s arm. “Don’t do this,” he whispered, standing close enough to pick up the braid resting on her shoulder.

Her eyes narrowed. “I’m not doing anything.”

“You are.” Ezra’s fingers slid down the length of the braid before he carefully placed it back down, his stare finding hers. “You’re over-thinking last night.”

“Am not.” It sounded so childish when it came out, but she didn’t know what else to say, or even how to act. This was completely new to her, seeing him as anything other than her king, or even a mentor, to some extent—though she imagined he only assumed that role because of her proximity to the throne.

“I understand your hesitation, Surina, but everything I told you was the truth.”

Studying his features, she didn’t find even a flicker of uncertainty. “It’s not that I don’t believe you…” Surina trailed off, not really sure how to bring up the night of the ball. She knew now he was aware of her presence all along, but they didn’t really get to talk about it, having been too caught up in the heat of the moment.

His brow raised with an inquisitive delight, lips twitching before he spoke. “Should I assume you didn’t enjoy our time together then? Is it because we had to cut it short?” He tsked, sliding himself between the space between her legs before leaning in to bring the low rasp of his voice to her ear. “I’d be happy to finish what we started.”

Surina rolled her eyes. “You’re insufferable.”

“And you’re forgetting just how eager you were to get my tongue right between these pretty thi—”

Covering that foul mouth before he could utter more disgusting things, a burning fluster climbed her neck and all the way up to her ears. “ Shut up ,” Surina hissed, hoping the guards at the bottom of the stairs hadn’t heard. It was wrong to be talking like this, considering their time was cut short because someone was killed . “I wasn’t referring to that .”

A smile formed beneath her palm, and she had to talk herself out of pulling it back to strike him, so she clasped them together in her lap instead—a way to create some kind of barrier between her and Ezra, whose friction against her covered thighs was eating away at her focus. While it was nothing compared to last night, where no fabric separated their skin, it still made her shudder.

“Then what is it?” Ezra lay a hand atop the armchair she was still seated on, scarcely grazing the outer part of her leg. “Do you regret what happened?”

She considered lying. It would probably be easier that way, putting an end to this cruel suspense, but what would be the point? He would hear the lie in her pulse, and they’d be right back to the beginning, where she pretended it was easier to hate him. “I don’t regret it, Ezra,” she said at last.

“Thank the fucking gods,” he sighed, as if her words were an answered prayer, and the smile that materialized afterwards… it made her chest tighten in the most amazing way.

That happiness would be short-lived, because stirring up the past was inevitable, and necessary.

“Ezra,” she whispered quietly. His smile vanished. “Are there any others?”

Though Cyril had found his mate and consort in Dahlia, Ezra was without either, so it would be naive of her to think his needs wouldn’t be satisfied by more than just Giselle. And while Surina was one of very few to see the sides of Ezra he typically kept hidden, that didn’t make her special. It certainly didn’t mean she could offer him anything that didn’t already belong to him. He had a crown, so what could she give him that any other lady of Thesia couldn’t?

“Any others?” His brows knitted together in confusion.

Peering down at her hands, she ran a finger along the mark in her palm. “After last night, I imagine you and Lady Giselle are no longer together, but if there are any other ladies who—”

Cool fingers pinched her chin, bringing her gaze up. “I haven’t been with Giselle since the night of the ball, and there hasn’t been anyone after that.”

“Since the ball?” she questioned, her face now surely matching his earlier confusion.

“Yes,” he replied dryly, his features completely expressionless as he released his hold of her chin, though he remained wedged between her knees. “That was the last time, I swear.”

“But that was almost two years ago.” Stating the obvious was more for herself than for affirmation. A way to give her a moment to comprehend what he was saying.

Ezra nodded.

A dark guilt blossomed in her gut, because she had been with other males since that time, and he was telling her now that he hadn’t so much as touched another? “You’ve been alone since then?”

“I’m not saying this because I want your sympathy, Surina, nor do I deserve it. It was an easy choice, to keep you away from the eyes of my court. And that of Liliana’s.”

Surina didn’t like the change in his attitude, and she didn’t try to hold back the bitterness when repeating his words from last night. “ Right , because you being alone protects me somehow. Got it.”

His eyes narrowed, though his glare wasn’t half as frightening now that she knew his cold and snarky treatment of her in the past was a facade. “You don’t know what someone like Giselle could do in her jealousy. Those trained in Stonefarrow are dangerous. They’re basically just dogs awaiting their next command, hardly having any wants beyond their master’s. It’s not just the Nightwood armies either, but the ladies of Liliana’s court too.”

Was that why his soldiers were so void of emotion? Ezra’s armies weren’t housed or trained in the keep’s garrison like the Castmont’s, but were typically maintained in Stonefarrow. The palace only retained a small fraction to serve whatever purpose Ezra instilled in them—which was guarding mortal princesses, apparently. Surina was ashamed to admit she didn’t actually know much about Thesia’s military beyond that. Galen tried on many occasions to lecture her on the military history of their kingdom, but it was just too droll and difficult to keep up with after the first hundred years of the kingdom’s rise.

“If they’re so dangerous, then how is it okay now, after all this time?”

“Giselle learned of my feelings for you days ago. It wouldn’t have been long before the duchess learned of it too. Giselle will return to Stonefarrow before the end of the week to deliver a message.” He didn’t look pleased about the words he was saying, raking through his hair and snagging more than a few strands on the way. “I suppose it’s more of an offer than a message. Her banishment from court will be annulled, if she agrees to my terms.”

That sent an icy wave of dread through her body. Surina knew very little of Liliana Nightwood, apart from the female being old. Like really old. And anyone who lived for as long as she did…there wasn’t much good left in them. Or any feelings, for that matter.

“And if she doesn’t agree to your terms?” Surina was curious what those terms entailed, though that wasn’t quite as important right now—not more important than Surina possibly being the duchess’s next target.

Having been banished from court by her own nephew, Surina had never even seen the female. Now she knew why—Liliana’s banishment was retribution for her attempted assassination of the girl Ezra had once loved.

Ezra slid a hand into hers, the one with the mark she was still tracing in her anxiousness. “She’ll agree to them. She would be a fool not to. You’re safe here, Surina.”

The way he was able to ease the tension with just a simple touch was like magic, but that peace quickly gave way to old memories. When Ezra found her after the dragon, and how he soothed the wretched pain of the burn, only to look upon it with disgust once it healed enough to see what she’d been branded with.

Surina snatched her hand away, placing her palm flat against a leg. “How safe can it be here if a dragon managed to get in just fine?”

The muscles of his jaw pulsed. “Is that why you hide it from me? You blame me for what happened that night?”

He didn’t say what it was. She imagined it was where his glare was focused though—her scar. “No, of course not,” she said, and meant it. “Why would I blame you?” If anyone was to blame, it was Surina, for leaving her room in the middle of the night.

“Why else would that creature show if not to get vengeance? You paid for something you had no part in. I blame myself, so why wouldn’t you?”

There it was, the reason she’d been locked away behind the walls of the keep all her life, for fear that Lythia would come looking for blood after the accords, even though Thesia wasn’t to blame for the slaughter that ensued. It was their king who struck first, despite the accords taking place on hallowed grounds, at the Temple of Isla. In the end, only three fae had survived—Ezra, Galen, and Surina’s mom.

“You had no choice.” Her voice was a sure whisper. This was a story that had been told to her since she was a girl, but she’d never heard it from Ezra. Cyril asked her to never bring it up with him, either, and she hadn’t. Not until now. “If not for you , I wouldn’t be standing here.” And that was the truth, because Surina was there that night, in her mother’s womb, and it was Ezra who protected her—protected them .

His shoulders slackened. “I am no savior, Surina.”

She wanted to tell him how wrong he was about that, but she knew it wouldn’t change his mind. “You asked me why I hide it from you—the scar. I hide it because I hate what it represents. Because I hate what they took from me. My father, my freedom—my peace . And I hide it from you because, when you look at it, that same hatred that’s in me , I see it in your eyes. I don’t want to be the source of those memories for you.”

There was no delay in the time between her confession and her hand being snatched back up, sandwiched between both of his. “I hate what it did to you, yes, and I hate that I wasn’t there to stop it, but know that I could never hate any part of you . It’s a reminder of how I failed you, and nothing more.”

She shook her head, sliding her hand free to place it to his chest, just needing to feel the stability of him. “You didn’t fail me, Ezra. If you hadn’t shown up, I—” She swallowed, the wavering heat in her arm reminding her of the staggering oranges and yellows of the dragon’s irises, sizing her up like the prey she was. “I wouldn’t have survived.”

He sealed her hand to his chest, seeming to understand how difficult this was for her. Ezra knew better than anyone what that felt like, coming face to face with one of their kind. “I don’t believe that for a second. You’re stronger than you know.”

A weak smile formed on her face as she smoothed her fingers along the hardened muscle of his pectoral—focusing on his eyes instead of how surreal it felt to have his body beneath her hand. “Multiple affinities doesn’t equate to strength.” Thankfully, Galen wasn’t here to witness her admit such a thing.

“I don’t mean your magic.” Ezra swept loose wisps of hair from her cheek, the wintry contrast to the flush of her skin like fire and ice. “You’re brave, Surina. Braver than any mortal I’ve ever known. And stubborn. So gods-damn stubborn. Immortality will suit you like no other. What I would give to see it, and may the divines help whoever stands in your way.”

He spoke as if he wouldn’t be there, and she didn’t get the chance to dwell on that obscurity before his head lowered, goading her with a faint brush of his nose to hers.

Surina couldn’t think of anything else at that point, only the feel of his arm lacing around her waist, pulling her hips forward. The sudden shift of friction between her legs stirred a languid heat at her core.

Twining her fingers behind his head, she brought her lips to his—those lips of mint and cool, plush snow that she dreamed of tasting time and time again. She savored every drag of his scent. Every curious pass of his mouth. This kiss was different than their first. This one was searching—intent on finding proof that what had happened between them last night was no dream. This would ensure that the nightmares of last night were worth it, even if that made her a terrible person for thinking so.

Surina wound her legs around his waist when he pressed into her, deepening the kiss. A tremor like rolling thunder rumbled in his chest, tickling the aching peaks of her breasts beneath the leather bodice. His tongue found her bottom lip, and she met the wandering gesture with her own, gliding her tongue along the length of a canine. They felt much longer than they looked—

Ezra broke the kiss, and she sucked in as much air as she could during the sudden pause. He licked his lips like he was just as obsessed with the taste of her as she was of him. “As much as it fucking kills me to say it, we really need to go.”

“ Go? ” Dazed by the sudden withdrawal and the deep rasp of his voice, it took longer than a moment for her brain to actually catch up. “Go where?”

A single finger dragged down the back of her neck, stopping between her shoulder blades. It was such a small movement, but the effects were cataclysmic, sending rivulets of pure lightning to her bones.

“Breakfast and training,” he said softly, gaze studying where her lips parted in response to his touch. “Sir Castmont stopped by to wake you about an hour ago, but I figured you could use the extra sleep, so I said I would take you. Cyril’s probably wondering where you are by now. We should get going before he comes searching. I’d hate for him to see what everyone’s been whispering.”

Now her lips more than parted, falling right open. Not just because he’d dismissed her guard without her permission, but because she didn’t like how he seemed to know something she didn’t. “And what are they whispering?” She had a few guesses, and Ezra confirmed one of them with a scandalous flash of teeth.

“Oh my gods.” She pressed a hand to her face, the sultry heat of her blood shifting into a warm embarrassment.

Clicking his tongue, Ezra grabbed her wrist to pry her hand away. “I told you to stay put, didn’t I? And the way word spreads here, I’m sure the entire kingdom knows of how the Fairlight princess succumbed to the wicked charm of the Nightwood king.”

Her hand curled into a fist in his hold. “All we did was kiss,” she snapped, shoving into his torso to push him back—it didn’t do anything. He got the message though.

Ezra’s grin persisted, even as he stepped out from between her legs, dropping her wrist. “They don’t know that.”

“You’re such an ass sometimes.” Hopping from the arm of the chair, she realized he was right, though she wouldn’t admit it. If she’d listened and stayed in his room, it would have saved her from seeing another dead body.

The library was her favorite place in the keep, and now it was just another bad memory—just like the gardens. Ezra mentioned last night they had Castmont and Nightwood soldiers hunting for whoever the killer could be. She doubted they would find anything, since the male’s death was similar to Frasier’s, where there were no marks or loss of blood.

“I had no intentions to keep this a secret, Surina, but if you’re not ready for others to know, just say the word and I’ll put an end to the rumors. True as they may be.”

“ Partially true,” she quickly amended, and he chuckled at that. As she chewed on the sensitive skin of her bottom lip, Ezra patiently awaited her response. “What about Cyril?”

His brow lifted. “What about him?”

They couldn’t stand each other, she knew as much. “Is this even allowed?” She motioned between them, taking a step closer. “Us, I mean.” Surina was heir to the Sun Throne, at least until Cyril had children of his own. Were the two thrones even allowed to... mingle ? Cyril did say it was important for their families to get along, though this was probably not what he had in mind.

“There is only so much Cyril can fight me on.” Curling his fingers around her hand, he lifted it, leaving behind a tender layer of frost in the shape of his lips. “This is not one of those things.”

“You’re sure?” she breathed, taking in all that she could of his scent, his eyes, his body—all of him.

“Mmm,” he hummed his agreement, lightly sweeping his lips over that frosted spot with a chilling caress. His molten gaze drifted up from her hand, a sure promise in those eyes as he angled in such a way that his mouth was inches from hers.

Surina’s weight shifted to the tips of her toes in anticipation—only for him to stop short.

“Ready to go?” Ezra murmured against her lips.

She blinked, frozen in a silent stupor.

“I’m never late, and I won’t let you tarnish my reputation in that regard.” He turned from her, heading for the doors.

“You’re cruel,” she mumbled under her breath. Her legs finally started working again, and she reluctantly followed behind.

Ezra laughed, so luscious and bright. Damn if he wasn’t right about his charm—beautifully sinister.

He tugged the door open as she approached, peering through the thick fringe of his midnight lashes. “Have dinner with me tonight,” he asked of her before she could cross through the threshold of the drawing room. “No courts or interruptions. Just you and I.”

Surina practically melted in the fervor of that promise, and it was all she could do just to nod her agreement beneath his darting gaze—or to even breathe when he smiled after, gently turning her around and placing a hand at her back to guide her towards the stairs.

His hand lingered until she stiffened with the guard’s presence. He dropped it then, though he didn’t leave her side. Always standing close enough for their arms to brush every once in a while.

It was almost natural, walking beside him. Perhaps that was because she'd known him all her life. Their relationship was different now, of course, but this didn't erase the role he’d had while she was growing up. If anything, that helped her realize how good he truly was. Or rather could be, if he would actually believe it.

Maybe that’s all he needed, though. Someone to believe it for him.