The Sorrow of Shadows (Crimson & Shadows #1)

Chapter 21

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

OPHELIA

T he humid, late-summer heat beats down on my back as the clanging of clashing swords fills the air around me. I stand outside the sparring ring watching Elijah and Zion dance around each other. In the next ring, Breyla is engaged in hand-to-hand with Ryder while Jade watches from the side with several other guards in training.

Most of the trained soldiers are still stationed along the border, so the ones in attendance are primarily new recruits and castle guards. They watch intently as we move with practiced deadly precision.

As far as I knew, Elijah had never spent time on the front line, but the way he moved and sparred with Zion made it obvious he had spent just as much time training as any soldier present. I knew he was skilled in politics, but he appeared to be equally skilled with a sword. He moves with a smooth grace, dodging and weaving to avoid Zion's attacks. Zion lunges for him and he parries, narrowly missing his attempt. He spins in a half circle, raising his sword at the back of Zion's head.

“Nice try, Zion. Do better next time.”

His shoulders sag in defeat, and he drops his shoulder. “Always a pleasure to have my ass kicked by you, Elijah.”

Elijah shrugs. “The pleasure is all mine.”

He sheaths his sword and steps out of the training ring, making room for the next set of challengers. It’s then that he notices my eyes roaming up and down his naked torso appreciatively. Our gazes meet, and he gives me a wink. A crimson blush takes creeps over my cheeks, but I don't break eye contact.

The sparring continues around us, and he provides a few suggestions for improvement. As the sun approaches midday, we’re interrupted by a servant delivering a package to Breyla. Her expression suggests she clearly wasn’t expecting any kind of delivery today. It’s a larger box, simple in design, and wrapped in brown paper.

She tears off the wrapping and pulls the lid from the box before letting out a scream. Within a heartbeat, Elijah is beside her, and I trail closely behind him. My breakfast threatens to make a reappearance when I finally see the cause of her terror. Blank hazel eyes stare lifelessly up at me.

Julian.

Julian’s head is sitting on a black velvet pillow, blood staining the box’s walls. I feel my heart crack, my lungs constricting. Breyla is shaking next to me, and I realize she’s crumbling. Somehow, Elijah wrestles the box from her hands and places the lid back on so no one else sees.

He wasn’t fast enough, though, and Jade’s sobs fill the air.

“J-Julian,” Jade stutters through her wails of pain. “No, no, he can’t be...” She trails off, unable to finish the statement.

Breyla’s and Jade’s cries fill the air, twining together in one of the most juxtaposed displays of grief. The two strongest females I know are both breaking in front of my eyes. Their pain is a palpable, living thing that fills the air around us, drowning us all in their grief. Tears stream down my face as my soul weeps .

Julian and Elijah had known each other since childhood, and though I didn’t know the extent of their relationship, I knew there was history between them. Elijah felt deeply and I could see something break in his eyes as he held Jade’s trembling form.

I see Jade start to drop, and Elijah reaches out his arms, catching her as she falls. He gently lowers her to the ground, pulling her into his chest. He wraps himself around her and rocks her back and forth. She’s shaking so violently that I don’t know how she’s breathing at all. Running his hands over her silvery-white braids, they sit there for what feels like hours.

When I lay eyes on Breyla again, it’s not Aurelius I see, but Prince Ayden who has her wrapped in his arms. Aurelius isn’t anywhere to be found, and it startles me to see Ayden providing any kind of comfort to the daughter of the male he swore revenge against. It doesn’t make sense, but I don’t have the mental strength to follow that train of thought right now. I'm on my knees next to Jade, rubbing soothing circles on her back.

Eventually, their cries subside to whimpers, and I see Jade’s eyelids begin to droop. Ayden is standing with an already passed-out Breyla in his arms. He nods to Elijah as we stand, as if to convey that she’s safe in his arms. I don’t know why, but I trust him. Maybe not entirely, but with this, I trust him. Elijah moves toward the castle, Jade cradled to his chest. I follow silently behind, opening doors for him as we go.

The deep, even inhales and exhales tell me that Jade has found sleep by the time we reach her chambers. I push the door open, and he enters, placing Jade in her bed. He pulls the covers over her shoulders and plants a gentle kiss on her temple. She looks peaceful in her sleep, and I sigh. This may be the last time she feels any kind of peace for a while. I hope it lasts.

Elijah and I back out of her room, softly shutting the door behind us. He slumps against the stone wall, closing his eyes. The adrenaline is gone, and I watch him deflate. I lay my hand on his cheek, waiting for his eyes to meet mine. When they finally open, they convey all the pain and exhaustion he feels.

“I’m not going to ask if you’re okay,” I whisper, “but tell me what I can do.” It comes out almost like a plea.

“You aren’t responsible for taking care of me, Ophelia.”

“And you didn't have to take care of Jade, but you did. I want to.” Right now, it feels more like a need than a want. Elijah needs someone to just let him be weak. I can be that for him.

“It's always been the four of us,” he says quietly. “I can’t picture a world without him in it.” Elijah sounds so vulnerable.

I don’t say anything, just letting him process his emotions. He pulls me into his embrace and burys his nose into the crook of my neck. My arms wrap him, and his muscles finally relax. Something about me gives him enough peace to feel safe, but I still feel his tears run against the skin of my neck.

After several minutes he pulls back just enough to lean his forehead against mine. “Thank you,” he says softly.

“I didn’t do anything,” I reply.

“You are everything.”

My breath hitches, and I search his eyes to see if he means that or if it was a slip of the tongue. Suddenly, something shifts in his eyes. The sorrow turns to desire. He reaches a finger under my chin and tips it up, level with his own, and leans in close. Our lips are so close I can feel his breath on my own. His mouth quirks up and I stare into his eyes. There’s a question in his gaze.

My lips part slightly, pulse quickening under his touch. I nod ever so slightly, and it’s all he needs as he takes my lips in a tender kiss.

It starts slowly and softly as he lets me control the pace. My innocence is no secret, and he doesn’t want to scare me away by moving too quickly. My body screams for more. I want him to show me everything I’m missing. I run my tongue along his bottom lip, teasing and testing his resolve. He parts his lips and I deepen the kiss, my tongue pushing into his mouth. He groans, and I relish the taste of him.

His fingers thread through the raven locks at the back of my head, using it to deepen the kiss. He meets my tongue with his own, exploring every inch of my mouth. I bite his bottom lip, eliciting a deep groan from him.

"Fuck my resolve , ” he growls, spinning us and pressing me into the stone wall. “You are temptation wrapped in perfection and I am weak,” he says breathily as his mouth moves down my throat, peppering kisses along the way.

A sharp inhale leaves my mouth as he bites down, soothing the sting with his tongue. The more he sucks the skin into his mouth, the louder my cries get. This will leave a mark, and I realize I want his marks all over my body.

I push into him and wind my fingers through his hair, tugging sharply on the strands. His length hardens against me, and I roll my hips into his. I don’t know what I’m doing, just going with what feels natural. Being pressed against him, his lips covering every inch of my skin in kisses, feels so incredibly natural.

Suddenly, he pulls back from me. Our chests are rising and falling rapidly as he looks me in the eyes. I can see the desire swimming in his, but it’s been eclipsed by something somber.

He pulls away from me, putting some space between our heated bodies.

“Elijah—” I start, a feeling of confusion crossing my face. My brows furrow as I try to read his expression.

“Don’t.”

“Don’t what?” My voice is soft, unsure.

“Don’t start to question yourself or if I want you. This space has nothing to do with you or anything you did.”

“Then why?” I struggle to believe his words.

He grabs my hand and does something I don’t expect, pulling it down to cover his painfully hard erection. My eyes widen as he asks, “Does this feel like me not wanting you? I want you so badly it hurts. I want to bury myself inside you and draw more of those delicious sounds from your lips. And don’t mistake me, Ophelia, I will do that. I don’t even have a problem taking you right here, in the hallway where anyone can see.” My cheeks heat at that statement, but he continues. “But my best friend’s head was just delivered to my other best friend in a box. I’ve wanted you for a while, but if I seek comfort in your arms for the first time right now, you will question if I truly want you or if I was just trying to erase my pain with your pleasure. The first time I have you, there will be no question in your mind. I will not have you questioning why I’m burying myself in you.”

I take a deep breath, trying to process his words. I realize he is probably right and that’s not how I want it to be between us.

My eyebrow quirks slightly before I ask, “Wanna get a drink?”

“You’re speaking my language, doll.”