Tale of the Heart Queen (Artefacts of Ouranos #4)

Chapter 33

C HAPTER 33

GAbrIEL

A PHELION —T HE S UN P ALACE

M y glass tumbler sloshes with the strongest orc wine this side of the Beltza Mountains. The viscous green liquid could burn a hole right through the crystal, not to mention what it’s probably doing to my organs. All I care about is making my head swim and my limbs soft while allowing me a moment to escape. It’s the first time in weeks that I’ve felt like I can breathe.

Not a single one of my problems has been solved, but this shit is good.

Hylene sits beside me on a plush settee as we stare across the sea. The secluded balcony offers a stunning view while keeping us from prying eyes .

“How are you feeling?” she asks softly.

I tip my head against the sofa, my lids fluttering closed. The alcohol swirls in my blood as I listen to the pounding of the waves. The constant thrum calms the beat of my racing heart.

“Like shit,” I answer after a moment, and she laughs. This is what I like about her. No matter what I say, no matter my mood, nothing seems to offend or faze her. She takes everything I do in stride like she sees something in me and is just patiently waiting for me to stop being a pain in the ass and become a better person. I can just be myself when she’s around. There’s no judgment or criticism. There’s just her with those beguiling green eyes, that infectious laugh, and, if I’m being frank . . . those luscious fucking curves that make my dick stir.

Speaking of which, I open one eye and twist my head towards her. She’s leaning over, and I get a view of her creamy skin, her breasts swelling into the deep vee of her robe. She’s definitely not modest in her attire, so this getup isn’t for me, but nothing is sexier than a woman who’s this confident in her own skin.

Maybe a small, feeble part of me wishes this getup were for me, and I try to tell myself no. I shouldn’t be getting a hard-on for her, but I’m also sure I’m not imagining her interest.

Or maybe I am.

Maybe I’m hoping because I’m so starved for . . . everything. My brain is just fucked-up and sending the wrong signals. It wouldn’t be the first time.

“Is there anything I can do?” she asks. “Besides the obvious, of course. ”

The obvious is solving this mess. Figuring out who should be leading Aphelion. Finding Atlas and bringing him the justice he deserves. Deciding what brand of justice is suitable for his crimes.

“Probably not,” I say. “Unless you can wave your hand and take me away from all of this forever.”

She gives me a sad smile. “You know you really wouldn’t want that. You are loyal to your kingdom and your king. You could never abandon them.”

I snort wryly and take another swig of my drink.

“You want to bet?”

The worst part is that as much as I don’t want her words to be true, they probably are. And that makes me an idiot. I want to be able to pick up and walk away. Go down to the docks, board a boat to some other, distant land, and never look back. Rewrite my history and erase my existence.

But she’s right. I’m a sucker, and I don’t have the guts.

“Maybe there’s something else,” I say as my eyes dip again to her impressive cleavage. I pull them back up, not wanting to stare like a lech. Her smile suggests she knows what I was just doing and doesn’t mind. Noted.

“What?” she asks, giving me a mock innocent smile. “What could possibly take your mind off all of this?” She sweeps out a hand, and she has a point. But I’m desperate for a distraction. I don’t want to think about anything important. Nothing that matters too much. The pain of this constant responsibility is caving my shoulders inwards. Once upon a time, I was forced into a life of subservience, but maybe that’s what suited me.

It turns out I’m much happier when someone else makes the decisions and faces the harsh consequences of those actions. I can’t help but feel like I’m doing everything wrong.

I lick my lips as I scan her body. She’s wearing a light robe over what I hope is nothing. Would that be too much to ask? Is that something I should even be wishing for?

“I want to feel . . .” Gods, what is wrong with me? Why can’t I just tell her what I want? I never have trouble just coming out and saying it.

“I want to see what’s under there,” I finally say, and her eyes light up.

She looks down at herself, touching the collar and sliding her fingers along the incredibly soft silk. But I doubt it’s as soft as her skin.

“Oh, you mean this?” she asks as she plucks at the tie that circles her waist, giving me a coy smile.

“That’s probably inappropriate,” I say.

“Is it? Why?”

“Fuck. I don’t know,” I say. “I’m trying to be responsible or something.”

She grins. “Even the most responsible kings are allowed a little indulgence.”

“I’m not a king,” I remind her.

“No, but you’re carrying the burdens of one.”

Good point. She pulls on the ribbon holding her robe together, and for a brief, sparkly moment, I’m the happiest Fae in all of Ouranos.

It turns out she is wearing something underneath, but the pinch of my disappointment isn’t too sharp because the nearly translucent scraps of underwear are the next-best thing. As I imagine what they’re concealing, I decide this might be even better.

She stands up from the divan, and I drink her in, noting the way the sheer fabric reveals her tight pink nipples and the smoky darkness between her thighs.

She allows me a moment to enjoy the sight—she knows exactly what she’s doing—before she places a hand on each side of my head and brackets my knees. The position gives me an eyeful of every soft curve and line, the lushness of her hips and her breasts, and I want to sink my teeth into her soft, creamy flesh.

“How’s this?” she asks. “Does this help?”

“A little,” I say with a sly smile.

I feel a fuckton better, but I want more.

“Oh?” she asks, then plants one knee on the cushion next to my hip and then her other before she hovers just above me, maintaining a sliver of space between us. The heat of her pussy immediately filters through the fabric of my pants, where my cock is already hard.

“How about this?”

“This is . . . good,” I say.

“What else do you want? What else would ease this stress, Gabriel?”

“I want to touch you.”

She looks at my hands sitting obediently on the cushions, and laughs. This woman is pure sin and seduction. Even her laugh shoots straight to my stomach, stirring up wells of emotion I thought were long dead and buried.

“Then touch me,” she coos. “Wherever you like. ”

I don’t wait to be told twice, my hands clamping on to her thighs as I slide them down. She’s just as soft and warm as she looks.

“Sit down,” I tell her because her pussy is just barely touching my now throbbing cock, and it’s making me crazy. “I need to feel you.”

She laughs again, but she obliges, heat spreading through my groin and over my hips as we both sigh. Her eyes twinkle. “I’ve wanted to do this for a while.”

Those words surprise and thrill me in equal measure.

“Me too,” I say, and she leans in close, pressing her breasts to my chest.

“Where else do you want to touch me?” she asks. “Surely my knees aren’t the subject of your fantasies?”

With a grunt, my hands slide back up, settling into the creases of her hips.

“Do you need me to draw you a map?” she teases.

I growl low in my throat. “I assure you I don’t need a map.”

“Then what are you waiting for, Captain?”

My inhale is ragged as I slide my hands inwards, my thumbs sweeping over the damp fabric of her underwear. She lets out a breathy sigh that nearly makes me come in my pants. Fuck. I’m like a horny teenager.

I tease the edge of the lace as she starts to squirm, creating excruciating friction. My chest loosens, and I let out a sigh weighted with relief. This was what I needed. A bit of skin and someone who doesn’t expect me to be anything other than who I am.

My fingers slide under the fabric, where I find her molten heat, and I let out a shudder that makes gooseflesh erupt over my entire body. She peers down at me, licking her lips as I circle her clit, drawing out a breathy moan.

“Sir!” An urgent voice blasts through my thoughts.

We both look over at the interruption. A guard stands in the doorway, and his eyes widen before he looks down with his hands behind his back.

“Captain, I was sent to find you,” he says to his feet.

“What is it?” I snap. I can’t get a fucking break around here.

“Captain, the low fae have breached the palace walls and demand an audience with the king.”

“Great,” I mutter.

Hylene slides off me and retrieves her robe before we rush through the hallways as thunder claps overhead. Clouds roll in, the weather changing swiftly. I try not to take that as an ominous sign.

We emerge into the front courtyard, where torches illuminate the darkened evening, casting the world into razor-sharp shadows.

The kind where demons lurk and the ruin of a kingdom waits.

Hundreds of people gather outside the palace walls, chanting into the night. Dozens more have flooded through gates ripped off their hinges, pressing against the line of Aphelion soldiers attempting to hold them back. They’re calling for the king, their voices high and fever pitched, their arms stretched towards the palace as if trying to brush it with their fingertips.

The sight is chaos, bodies churning and writhing, and for a moment, I can’t move. I can’t breathe. My training never prepared me for anything like this .

I catch sight of two guards parting to let someone through before Erevan stumbles past the line. My jaw clenches. I should have known he was responsible for this.

A guard strides next to Erevan as he approaches, a hand on his sword, ready to take Erevan down should he make any suspicious movements.

“Captain,” he says. “The rebel leader asked to speak with you.”

“Erevan,” I say. He’s rumpled, his clothes askew, and his blond hair hanging in his eyes. “What is this? What are you doing?”

“They want justice. They want what they deserve.”

I shake my head, my hands spreading wide.

“I don’t know what you want me to do,” I say. “They want justice from Atlas, but he isn’t here to offer it.”

“Then let us meet with Tyr,” he says. “Have him repeal the laws and answer for his brother’s crimes.”

My jaw clenches, and our gazes meet. “You know I can’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“Because Tyr cannot repeal the laws on his own, and he can’t have this conversation.” I stop myself from explaining further. Erevan has seen Tyr. He has to understand that he can’t deal with this.

“He is still the king, Gabriel. No matter what happened, these people are still his duty.”

“I know that,” I snap. “But it’s not possible right now.”

“Then when? They won’t be placated any longer. They demand and deserve justice.”

He flings a finger behind him, where the crowd pulses, arms raised, their chants swelling into the air. The line of soldiers continues to struggle against the crowd when a frantic scream rises above the cacophony, drawing our attention.

A group of low fae and soldiers have converged in the middle of the mess, clashing as they fight. Screams and shouts and someone yelling, “Stop! You’re trampling her!”

I brush past Erevan and storm over. “Stop this!” I shout. “Stop it now! I order you!”

Everyone continues to shove and push while I thrust myself into the center of the tangle. “By command of the king, stand down!” I shout louder this time, and finally, they take notice. Someone is screaming and sobbing, and the crowd parts to reveal a small body on the ground covered in blood with someone crying over them. It’s hard to tell, but I think it’s an elf. Everyone stares, paused in the stillness of shock.

I whirl around to face Erevan, pointing at the dead elf. “Is this what you wanted?”

Erevan has gone pale, his jaw slack.

“Tell them to move out,” I snarl. “We will deal with this. I swear to you they will be heard, but I need time. Tyr needs time, and we need to find Atlas.” I drag Erevan towards me and force him to look at the dead elf. “Don’t make this worse.”

Finally, Erevan stirs out of his daze and nods, lifting a hand. It takes a moment for others to notice the signal filtering through the crowd. He looks at me, dark circles under his eyes, his expression more lost than I can ever remember.

“Erevan,” I say into his ear, using a low voice. “If Tyr chooses to descend, then you understand what must happen. I know you don’t want this but—”

He lifts his hand, cutting me off.

“I’ll deal with this,” he says, refusing yet again to talk about his destiny. The one the Mirror chose for him that fateful day a century ago. “But this is a warning, Gabe. You can’t keep ignoring them much longer.”

Then he tugs on his jacket and strides away, passing through the line of guards. He shouts a few words to the watching low fae, and it’s a measure of just how much they respect him that they slowly follow, carrying the body of the elf with them, filing out as they cast wary glances in my direction.

“Repair and then fortify the gate,” I say once they’re all gone. “And double the wall guard.”

“Yes, sir,” answers a soldier as they move into action. I watch for a moment, conscious of so many eyes on me. Hylene stands beside me with her patient presence, but I’m far too aware these soldiers under my command must be questioning everything I’m doing.

Then I spin around and am once again caught off guard by the sight of two figures I thought I’d never see again.

“Lor? Nadir?” I ask. Behind them are Mael, Amya, and Lor’s siblings, along with more guards, who’ve obviously brought them in through another entrance.

“Hey,” Lor says with a wave. “Looks like you’ve got your hands full here.”

They all look like shit. Like they’ve been chewed up and spit back out, their clothes torn and all in need of a bath or five.

“What the hell happened to you?” I ask.

Nadir and Lor exchange a wary look.

“That’s a bit of a long story,” she says. “Maybe we should go inside and talk once you’ve dealt with things out here. ”

I run a hand down my face as raindrops begin to patter against the ground. I look past the wall where the crowd still mills, but they seem settled enough. We’ve averted disaster for one more day. But just barely.

“I guess you better come inside,” I say to Lor.

We enter the palace and make our way towards the king’s study.

“How did you find each other?” I ask, gesturing to the entire group.

“We ran into one other in a village a few days’ travel from here,” Lor says. “It was kind of a miracle.”

“Where were you coming from?” I ask.

“Alluvion,” Lor says, and then adds, “Kind of. Also, the Evanescence.”

My eyes almost bulge out of my head at that. “What do you mean the Evanescence? Like the Evanescence?”

“We’ll try to explain everything,” she replies, exchanging another look with Nadir. It’s clear these two have been through something incomprehensible.

Finally, we arrive at the study, and everyone gathers in the room. Lor and Nadir stand at the front with their hands clasped as they address me, Hylene, and Tyr. It’s obvious the others know this story, but they wait patiently as Lor and Nadir take turns explaining everything.

She chokes on her words, and it’s clear how much strain she’s been under. After she reaches the end of her tale, she falls silent before Nadir fills in his half. It’s a wild story that gets weirder by the moment, and if it were anyone else, I might question the truth of their words .

But it was obvious from the first time I met Lor that she was no ordinary prisoner.

“How did you get Zerra to stop attacking?” I ask.

Lor shakes her head. “I’m not sure. Once Nadir and I moved into the forest, it stopped.” She exchanges a worried glance with Nadir that I can’t parse out.

“I’m not sure what else to say other than what the fuck?”

“I know,” Lor says. “There’s something else.”

“What else could there possibly be?” Hylene chimes in.

“I kind of stole the arks from Zerra,” she says, and Nadir digs into his pockets, tossing the lot on the table. The dark rocks imbued with silver sparkles clink together, and I stare at them in disbelief.

“I stole Alluvion’s, but I can’t do that to you. I should never have done it to him either, but I was desperate,” Lor continues.

“I don’t know where the ark is,” I say.

Lor’s shoulders drop. “I was afraid you’d say that. Everything we’ve learned suggests that only the ascended have knowledge of the arks.”

Every eye in the room falls on Tyr, and as if sensing our scrutiny, he looks up.

Hylene maneuvers herself across the room, then drops to a crouch and takes his hand. She whispers something in his ear, and though his face remains expressionless, he dips his head.

“The ark,” he says in that soft, thin voice that breaks my heart every fucking time. “Of course. I know where it is.”