The Sorrow of Shadows (Crimson & Shadows #1)

Chapter 9

CHAPTER NINE

AURELIUS

I roll my head from side to side, trying to alleviate the stiffness that has crept into my neck. My investigation into Lord Seamus has gone nowhere. It’s maddening how little I can find out about him. I had learned he wasn’t kind to his servants and treated his daughter, Ophelia, almost as poorly. He appeared to despise all females, was exceptionally nosey, and a prick. I already knew most of this or at least suspected it. His son, Layne, was his glorified errand boy, often securing business contracts and acting on his behalf with merchants and contacts from other kingdoms. When I approached the spymaster, Lord Craylor, he had been tight-lipped. The most interesting thing I discovered was from my training yard encounter with Breyla yesterday. She had known I was there the whole time but still spoke freely.

It was worth noting that she and Elijah suspected something more was going on with Lord Seamus. They didn’t speculate much on what he might be hiding, but they seemed to think they would learn more at the next council meeting. Which I will be attending in precisely two days. With any luck, the Twins of Death would arrive by then. It had been a bit of a calculated risk summoning them to court, especially with their general already here. I knew they were crucial in defending our people and borders, but I still don’t trust Breyla’s intentions. I thought bringing them here would stir up enough to make the princess show her cards.

A sudden knock at my door draws me out of my contemplation. “Well, speak of the devil,” I say upon seeing Breyla outside my room.

“Yeah, I’m looking at him,” she says shortly and pushes her way into my room. Before I can get a word in, she’s yelling, “You had no right! They are my second and third in command. By bringing them here, you created a massive risk.” I can feel her rage from here as I close the door.

“I have every right,” I say calmly. My own rage flares inside of me, but she’s hot-headed enough for the both of us, so I remain calm. “I am the future king, and as such, I will do what I deem necessary for the safety of our kingdom.”

Breyla rears back and spits, her warm saliva landing directly on my cheek. “You are no king of mine.” Her words are venomous as her eyes narrow.

My jaw ticks as she’s nearing the end of my patience. I rub away the spit with the back of my hand and take a step closer to her. She’s aware I’ve seen through her act. Still feeling the need to rub it in, I say, “There she is. I'm so glad we dropped the broken, mad, drunkard act. It was unbecoming. I much prefer the angry, possessed demoness in front of me.”

Her nostrils flare, jaw clenching, and in a flash, she hits me square in the face. “I don’t give a damn what you prefer,” she seethes. I was not expecting that. “They are mine to command, not yours. How could you do something so reckless?!”

I rub my aching jaw, tasting blood on my tongue. “Be careful, little demon. I may not hit females, but I do bite. You are wearing my patience thin.”

This time I see her fist, catching her hand in mine before it can make contact. I push her roughly into the wall, pinning her hands above her head. Fire dances in her emerald eyes. I stare intensely into them as I speak, “I took a calculated risk that was well within my rights as your future king. It was not one made lightly, and not one I would have made if I did not have full faith in the soldiers under your command.”

I can still feel her heart overworking itself, the beats erratic, as anger courses her veins. She’s wound tightly. A rational discussion with her like this isn’t possible, and she isn’t calming down on her own. She’s been holding this in since yesterday, maybe longer. I let my Hemonia Gift seep out of me and into her. It immediately goes to work calming her racing heart to a normal level. A look of confusion crosses her face at the sudden de-escalation.

“Is that you? Did you just manipulate my anger?” she questions.

“Yes, that was me, but no, I didn’t manipulate your feelings. I removed your body’s physical reaction to the anger by calming your pulse. I can’t make you feel anything; I just tempered your anger so we could converse like civilized adults.”

I can tell I’ve piqued her interest when she responds, “I want to be angry right now, but I’m finding it impossible. That’s incredibly invasive, but it’s also...rather useful. What else can you do with that?”

An idea I shouldn’t be entertaining forms, “Would you like me to tell you...or show you?” I quirk an eyebrow at her.

She bites her lip, trying to determine if my words have a hidden meaning. “Show me,” she whispers. Good girl.

I slow her pulse considerably, to the point she’s close to losing consciousness. “I can bring your heart to a near stop to make you sleep. ”

“Or kill me?” she asks with a yawn.

“That too.” I bring her heart rate back to normal, then slowly increase it. “Or I can speed it up to make you more alert.”

Her eyes dart back and forth rapidly as I once again return her back to normal. Next, I direct all the blood in her left side to flow away from her arm, rendering it numb and useless.

“Now that’s strange!” she exclaims.

I return the blood flow to her arm and lean in closer. We’re chest to chest, pressed against the wall, when I whisper, “I can make it flow to...other places, as well.”

Her breath hitches, and she asks, “Like where?”

I work so slowly she’s barely able to detect it. I wait until she realizes what I’m doing before I explain, “I can make more blood flow to your most sensitive parts. Increasing your pleasure and making it almost a need to be touched.”

She’s breathing rapidly as her arousal grows, and I smell it. I may have started this, but she’s clearly into it. “If I release you, will you be a good little demon and not try to punch me again?”

All I get is a hesitant nod before I release her wrists but stay pressed tightly against her. As I lower my hands I run them gingerly down her sides, tracing every wonderful curve. My hands come to rest on her hips, and I squeeze tightly. “That’s my good little demon.”

Just like that, the wire snaps and her lips are on mine. A growl erupts from my throat when she pushes her tongue past my lips. She kisses like she fights—rough and dirty. It’s all consuming, and I kiss her back harder, taking everything from her. I slip a hand into her auburn curls and tug hard, pulling her head back. She moans as I alternate kisses and soft bites down her neck, settling between her ample breasts.

I feel her wanting to fight against me, but also fighting how good this feels. I slip my knee between her thighs, forcing her legs to widen until I’m fit perfectly against her sex. It’s clear her arousal is growing as she rolls her hips against me. My hand runs across the bare skin under her tunic, feeling my way up to her breasts, and I lightly flick her nipple with my thumb. She groans deeply and rocks her hips shamelessly against my thigh.

“That’s it. Be a good girl and moan for me,” I growl. I slip her breast out of the tunic and suck her nipple into my mouth. The noise she makes for me is decadent. Her nails dig into my side as she rides my leg closer to her finish. Her noises alone have me rock hard. I can feel my cock aching inside my trousers, begging to be set free. As if she can read my mind, she reaches down and grips me through my pants.

It’s not enough for her, though. She slips her hand down the front of my pants and grabs my cock, pulling it out. She guides her hand up and down my shaft, her movements somewhat sporadic as she closes in on her own release. Completely lost in the feel of this female, I realize I am no longer using my Gift to heighten her pleasure. This arousal is all her own, and that thought has me releasing a feral growl. Her eyes began to close, and her hips move faster against my thigh.

“Fuck, Princess. Keep riding my thigh like you wish it was my cock.”

This is both the best and most idiotic way I’ve ever used my Gift. It wasn’t the first time I had used it in this fashion, but this female was the definition of off-limits to me. And I knew that this time would never be enough. I would want more of this beautiful creature in every way I shouldn’t want her. She’s the daughter of my late brother and my now fiancé, but none of that matters as I watch her writhe against me, chasing her release at my hands.

“Eyes on me, Princess. I want to see you when I make you come,” I demand, and her eyes snap to mine. As if those dirty words are all she needs, I watch her tip over the edge. Her thighs squeeze my own, searching for something to fill her. I watch the aftershocks roll through her as I gently rub my thigh against her, ringing every last ounce of pleasure from her body. I grab her hand and shove it between where my thigh meets her apex and run it through the wet mess there. I bring her fingers up to my lips and suck them into my mouth. I groan at the taste. “ That’s what I can do with my power, Princess.”

I release her, stepping back from the wall. My still-aching cock practically weeps as I shove it back into my pants and smirk at her. I commit the image of her flushed, disheveled, pouty lips hanging open in awe to memory. Something to relieve myself with later.

She finally opens her mouth to speak. “Can you please...stop it now?”

I give her a confused look before asking, “Are you still feeling aroused?”

She nods at me, and I grin widely. “I stopped using my Gift on you several minutes ago, Breyla. That arousal is all your own.”

She has nothing left to say, her cheeks an even brighter shade of red. She turns to leave my room, but as she reaches the door she says quietly, “You will never be my king, and I will never kneel to you.” For some reason, that remark stings more than I expect. The door slams behind her as she leaves.