The Sorrow of Shadows (Crimson & Shadows #1)

Chapter 15

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

AURELIUS

I t was Breyla’s piercing scream that woke me from sleep. What I find when I reach her room is so much worse than I imagined. She’s laying on her bed, dagger protruding from her stomach and blood pooling around her. She’s bleeding out and barely conscious, but I can see she’s still breathing, at least for now. There are no guards stationed outside either of our quarters; that’s something I’ll have to look into later. Right now, I need to stop her bleeding. I’m kneeling beside her bed, applying pressure to the wounded area and cradling her neck.

“Stay with me, little demon,” I plead, watching her eyes flutter shut. I feel her heart slowing, but her pulse is still there. I have never been so grateful for my Gift as I am now. I use my Hemonia Gift to slow the flow of blood to her wound, forcing it to clot temporarily so she doesn’t lose any more of it.

“Guards! Servants! Anyone?!” I yell at the top of my lungs, hoping someone nearby will hear. I can’t leave her now or she will bleed out. After what feels like hours—but is truthfully only seconds—a servant peers in through the open doorway .

Her long gray hair and withered hands tell me she’s been serving the royal family for quite some time. I believe her name is Lyla, but I’m not as familiar with the staff as I should be. “Please, the princess has been attacked. She needs a healer, but fetch me the castle physician as quickly as you can,” I plead. She nods her head and swiftly disappears.

Breyla’s breaths are shallow and her freckled skin pale when Lyla returns. Following behind her is not the court physician, but a sleepy-eyed Ophelia in a nightgown. Ophelia seems to know what to do as my jaw drops in confusion. “I don’t understand. Why is Lady Ophelia here? I told you to fetch the physician .” The frustration is clear in my voice. "Breyla is dying, and you brought a female with no power instead?”

“I can explain later, but right now you need to trust me, Lord Aurelius. If you don’t, the princess will die. I can save her, but only if you let me act now.” Her face is serious and confident. I nod, putting my trust and Breyla’s life in her hands.

She steps up next to me and covers my hand with her own. “Keep pressure here. Lyla, I need you to pull the knife from Breyla’s stomach when I say. Be swift with it.”

Lyla steps up behind us and wraps her hands around the knife's pommel.

“On my count,” Ophelia starts. “Three, two, one...now!”

Lyla pulls the dagger straight out. I feel Ophelia’s hand press harder into my own as the blood starts flowing more freely. It only lasts a second before a white glow comes from Ophelia’s hand and rests on top of my own. It’s only a few moments more before the blood flow slows and I can see Breyla’s flesh knitting itself back together. I can hardly believe my eyes when after a few minutes it looks like there was never a wound there to begin with. It’s common knowledge that Ophelia possesses no magical Gifts, but apparently that was incorrect. How had she managed to keep her ability a secret? More importantly— why would she keep this ability a secret? It would make her one of the most powerful females at court.

I look Ophelia in the eyes as Breyla’s heart rate returns to normal. “Thank you,” I whisper desperately.

“There’s no need to thank me, Lord Aurelius. I care for her, too.”

“Of course, I care about her wellbeing. She is the future of this kingdom,” I stammer quickly in response.

“Of course.” She smiles at me. “She will be out for several hours while she recuperates, but she should fully recover by then. She’s very lucky to have you close by. She might not have made it if not for your quick action.” Ophelia’s shoulders sag, and she seems more exhausted than when she arrived. Her normally bright eyes are dull and glaze over as she looks at me.

“The crown is in your debt, Lady Ophelia. How can we ever repay you?” I question, not sure what she would want in payment.

“You don’t need to. Just do me a favor and keep this between us. I don’t need anyone else knowing about my Gift.” Her tone is serious. She must have a good reason for wanting this kept secret.

“You have my word. But what am I supposed to tell the princess when she wakes? She’s not stupid; she’ll know this is the work of a healer.”

“You can tell her I’m responsible, but if she wants the full story, she must come to me.” She looks around the room, noticing the blood and disarray. “Lyla, will you help me clean the princess and change her sheets? Lord Aurelius, we can manage from here.”

“No.” The word is harsh, but not meant to be mean. “I don’t know why none of my guards or hers were here to stop the threat tonight, but I will not be leaving her alone until we know why that is and who is behind the attack. You may clean her, but she will stay with me—in my chambers—where I can watch her. She is obviously not safe alone for the time being.”

Once they have her clean, I carry her to my room. There are still no guards at our doors, something I will need to see Commander Nolan about later. For now, I just need to make sure Breyla is safe. I slide her into the unmade side of my bed, covering her with the silk sheets and comforter. The last thing I want is for her to feel threatened or startled when she awakes, so I lay on my side of the bed on top of the sheets, leaving ample room between us.

Lastly, I use my magic to lock the door and then levitate a heavy armoire in front of it, just to be safe. I watch her slow and steady breaths as the adrenaline from the night leaves my body at last. Exhausted, I fall into a deep slumber.

I’m greeted by Breyla’s gold-flecked emerald eyes when I wake the next morning. Before I can even open my mouth, she beats me to the first word. “Aurelius, you better have a damn good reason as to why I’m in your bed without memory of how I got here.” Her tone is serious, but she doesn’t quite seem mad.

“How is ‘you were stabbed last night and none of your guards could be found anywhere, so I saved your ass and then refused to let you out of my sight until we found the responsible party’ for a reason?” I quirk an eyebrow at her. “Is that good enough for you, Princess?”

She gulps. “There’s a lot to unpack there, but I suppose that will do.”

“There’s a lot we need to discuss, but first, how do you feel?”

“I feel fine. Great, actually.” She stretches her arms out above her head .

“Good. What do you remember?” I push a stray auburn lock out of her face and behind her ear.

She leans just slightly into my hand. “Not much, honestly. I remember talking with Ophelia for hours, before eventually falling asleep. I vaguely recall someone entering my room, but from there it gets hazy...Wait, you said I was stabbed?!” There’s alarm in her voice. She rips up her shirt to expose her stomach and runs her eyes over the unmarred flesh. She looks up to me, her eyes pleading for an answer.

“I found you with a dagger still embedded in your stomach. I was able to stop the flow at the wound, but I couldn’t do anything about the blood loss you had already sustained.”

“So who saved me? This goes beyond the court physician’s ability, Aurelius. At the very least I shouldn’t feel this good. Frankly, I should be dead.”

“That is not my story to tell. For that you’ll need to talk to Lady Ophelia. She is a very good friend to have.” I leave it at that. “There is one blank I can’t seem to fill, though. I have seen your reflexes, and I know you would never let anyone sneak up on you like that, even asleep. So how was your attacker able to get close enough to stab you?”

Her brow furrows as she ponders my words, “I think...I was drugged. I had requested more wine from the kitchen, and it was waiting outside my door when Ophelia arrived. Normally they hand the wine to me personally, but I didn’t think anything of it. The only thing I can come up with is that someone switched the wine with the poisoned jug. It obviously wasn’t intended to kill me, just knock me out enough to make me an easy target.”

“We need to talk, Princess.” My gaze pins her in place.

“About why I woke up in a male’s bed fully clothed for the first time in my life? I think you may be confused about the proper intricacies of the bedroom. Typically, you get the lady naked first, then throw her in your bed to fuc?—”

I cut her off by gripping her chin between my thumb and forefinger. She’s trying to deflect, but it won’t work. I lean in close to her ear. “That filthy mouth of yours is going to get you into trouble,” I whisper, and a line of goosebumps trail their way down her neck. “Now, stop trying to deflect, and have a big girl conversation with me.”

That last command has her angry, her eyes glaring daggers at me. To add insult to injury, I add, “Good girl,” when she doesn’t speak any further. I catch the flare of her nostril and the sharp intake of breath.

“Someone wants both of us dead, but they’ve failed twice. I wouldn’t think much of it, except poison was used in both instances. The question is who wants us dead and why?”

“I should think the why would be obvious.” Breyla lifts an auburn brow at me. “We’re both in line for the throne, Aurelius. Whether by marriage or birth, we are both set to one day rule Rimor. So, the real question is who benefits by disrupting the line of succession?”

“I have my thoughts on that, but nothing I can prove.”

“As do I, but at least we know one thing.”

“And that would be?”

“We are certainly not the ones behind it, otherwise you would have just left me for dead last night.”

“That makes us allies, Princess. It means you have to start trusting me.” I grin at her. “It means we have to work together until we get to the bottom of this.” The thought excites me more than I want to admit.

She rolls her eyes at me. “Okay, partner. Where do we start?”

I slide my fingers into the hair at the back of her skull and tug gently until I have her full attention. “We start by laying ground rules, and rule number one is that you never roll your eyes at me. I can tolerate that mouth of yours, but the next time you roll your eyes you will discover what the end of my patience looks like. ”

She gulps, but her gaze doesn’t waver. She’s not scared of me. On the contrary, she’s intrigued. It’s then that her scent hits me. She’s aroused. “Oh darling, I can smell how much that excites you.” Her eyes widen in surprise.

“You can smell that?” She looks at me confused.

“I can smell a great many things, but your arousal is by far my favorite scent.” I lean closer to her neck to prove my point and take a deep breath. The scent is intoxicating and has me instantly hard. I lift my torso so I’m leaning over her, my hand still entwined in her hair. She lets out a soft gasp as I tug harder, pulling her head back slightly to expose her neck. My mouth trails light kisses down her throat, peppering her with the occasional bite. With my free hand, I pull her against me, then hitch her left leg up over mine. Her nightgown has shifted up, exposing her ass and bare thighs. I run my hand up the back of them, squeezing and massaging as I go.

This female will be the death of me. Her curves are like something from a dream. She’s toned from years of training, but in no way does it take away from her femininity. She’s thick in all the right ways.

She’s trying to hide how much I’m affecting her, but finally relents when I bite that spot where her neck meets her shoulder as I trail my fingers down her backside to find her entrance. She lets loose a moan as I trail my fingers around her opening, finding her drenched for me already. My fingers tease her, slowly inserting one finger at an agonizing pace. By this point, I’m sucking the skin of her neck, and I know it will leave a mark. She begins rocking her hips, begging for more from me.

I release her skin from my mouth. “Use your words, little demon. Tell me what you want,” I say as I still my finger inside her.

“More.” Her voice is raspy and full of desperation.

“Ah ah ah, darling,” I tsk. “I need specifics. ”

“Please...make me come.” I love hearing her so needy and desperate.

“That’s good enough for now, I suppose,” I concede. Before she can respond, I have her flat on her back with my hand at her entrance. I insert two fingers, making slow movements. My fingers curl, hitting that delicious spot deep inside her. She moans louder each time I hit it, and I know she’s close. I grind my palm into her clit as I increase the pace of my ministrations inside her. My lips are on hers, my tongue demanding entrance. She opens her mouth to let out a moan when I apply pressure to her clit, slowly rubbing in small circles.

Breyla’s hands fly up and grab onto my sides, her fingers gripping me tightly. She squeezes hard, her nails raking down my sides. The edge of pain has me moaning this time. Breaking the kiss, I lean down to her ear and demand, “Come for me, little demon.”

The command does her in, and I feel her inner walls flutter, then clench around my fingers. As she hits her climax her moans grow louder. I slowly continue my movements, drawing out her release for as long as possible. Finally, I feel her go limp, her breathing deep. I remove my fingers from her and bring them to my mouth. She tastes divine. I suck my fingers in deeper, groaning at the taste.

As she comes down from her high, I see something flip in her eyes. Her mood has shifted from lust to regret faster than I can blink. She’s no longer looking at me, so I do the only thing I can think of. I cradle her face in my hand and turn her head until her eyes are back on me. “I’m not done with you, Princess.”

Her voice is cold when she quickly replies, “Yes. You are.” It should leave no room for argument, but that’s never been my style.

“And why is that?”

“Because this,” she gestures to the both of us, “us being together like this isn’t right. You’re engaged to my mother.” The end of that statement feels like a dagger being thrust in my chest.

“Princess, there’s something I’ve tried telling you before, and you need to hear it now?—”

“No, there’s nothing you can say that makes what we’re doing right,” she says, cutting me off.

“If you would just—” This time, a knock on the door interrupts me. Damn it all.

Reluctantly, I push myself off the bed and cross my room to the idiot interrupting an important discussion. I levitate the armoire away from the door and back into its rightful place on the wall. No one needs to see that Breyla is in my chambers, so I open the door just enough to see who is on the other side. My eyes glare daggers at Elijah and I spit, “What are you doing here?” It’s then that I notice his face is lacking his normal jovial disposition. He looks...sad.

“There’s been another murder,” his voice cracks. “Have you seen Breyla? She’s not in her chambers.”

“Who—” I start to ask, but Breyla is already shoving me out of the way.

Elijah gives her a questioning look, but she ignores it. “Who is it, E?”

“Breyla...” Elijah’s voice is barely more than a whisper. “It’s Nolan.”

Breyla goes still beside me. “How?” she demands. Nolan had trained Breyla, me, and most of the soldiers in the royal army. It wouldn’t have been easy to take him by surprise.

“They found him outside the guards’ quarters with his throat slit,” Elijah explains.

Breyla nods in understanding. I see her knees shake, but before she can fall, I reach my arm around her back to support her. Elijah is just as quick, though, because he has her fully supported against his chest as she stumbles into him. Her wail pierces the air as she mourns the male who played the role of a second father to her. I know what Nolan meant to her, what he meant to this kingdom. He was simply someone who could not be replaced.

She throws her arms around Elijah’s neck and sags against his body. A tingle of jealousy creeps through me at seeing how comfortable she is in another male’s arms. Her whole body trembles and shakes with her sobs. Elijah’s hand threads through her sun-kissed auburn waves as he gently strokes her hair and tries to soothe her.

As if a switch had flipped, her sobs stop. Her eyes are red and puffy. She stands on her own and pushes through Elijah to her chambers. It’s my turn to look confused as my eyes meet Elijah’s. He looks concerned, but not surprised at her sudden change. We follow to find her already half dressed in leathers, nightgown discarded on the floor. Her room is spotless, no sign of her blood from last night’s attack. Ophelia and Lyla had worked pure magic.

Cautiously, I ask, “Breyla, do you think this could be related to last night’s incident or why we could not find any guards stationed outside either of our chambers?” I was careful not to mention too much detail, so as not to expose Ophelia in the process.

“Wait, what?!” Elijah exclaims.

“Someone drugged and attempted to kill me last night. Obviously, they failed. That’s why you found me in Aurelius' room this morning. Apparently, the broody, overprotective male thought I was incapable of sleeping alone,” she says with cold indifference.

“Excuse me, Princess, if I find it hard to leave a drugged and unconscious female alone and exposed. Especially when they’ve already been attacked once and there are no guards to be found. Not to mention, she’s both the general of the royal army, and the heir to this godsdamned kingdom.” My blood is boiling as I finish.

This damn female.

“You are excused, Lord Aurelius.” The use of my full title is a slap in the face. “I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself. I never asked for your help, nor will I listen to you simply because you are fucking my mother. I told you once already—you will never be my king.” She’s picking fights to avoid dealing with the emotions Nolan’s death has caused. Fighting is all she knows, so she’s sticking to that. Logically, I know all this, though my body and tongue have missed the memo.

Quicker than either of us can register, I have her pinned to the wall, my hand wrapped firmly around her throat. She goes still, not responding. “We are allies, little demon, so I’ll forgive that last outburst, but the next time you decide to spew lies, I’ll show you a much better use for that filthy mouth.”

It’s then that I notice the dagger she has pressed against my stomach. She’s not applying any pressure, and that’s how I know she’s not serious. The irony of the dagger’s placement isn’t lost on me. It’s the same place she was stabbed last night, and I can’t help but smirk. “If you were trying to turn me off, I’m sorry to say you’ll have to try harder.”

Defeatedly, she drops her arm holding the dagger, and I release my hand from her throat, sensing her blood pressure has returned to a normal level. “Now get your shit together and start acting like the general and not the spoiled brat,” I say loud enough for Elijah to hear.

I hear Elijah let a chuckle out at that last command. Breyla shoots daggers at him with her eyes. “Way to just stand there and watch.”

“Oh no, I’m not getting sucked into this argument,” Elijah insists. “Besides, I really wanted to see that play out.”

“Dick,” she grumbles at him, trying to hide a smile .

“But I’m your favorite dick.”

“Careful, or I’ll replace you,” she threatens playfully.

“No, you won’t,” he says confidently as a genuine smile stretches across her face. How he can swing her mood so quickly is an enviable skill, one I find myself hoping to someday attain.