When I turn to look at Des, the shadows have curled closer around him. Behind his shoulders, his folded wings shift restlessly, like they can’t get comfortable. They’ve been out ever since we landed.
The hunger in his eyes …
He catches one of my hands and kisses my knuckles.
“Truth or dare?” he whispers. He’s had carnal thoughts on his mind ever since that handy little wakeup call I gave him this morning.
… And so have I.
“Dare.”
His nostrils flare.
One breath he’s across from me, and in the next I’m wrapped up in his arms, his lips hot on mine. He carries me through his chambers to his bedroom, kissing me all the while.
Lamps dangle from the high ceiling, a small starburst of light glowing in each. On the far side of the room, a line of windows with that distinctive Moroccan arch surround a set of double doors that lead out to the balcony.
The Bargainer lays me on a huge bed with a hammered bronze headboard, his eyes gleaming in the light. He doesn’t follow me onto the mattress, choosing instead to stand at the foot of the bed and to gaze at me.
He drops to his knees, a hand caressing my leg, some of his white blond hair sliding over his face.
No, I want to see his expression. I push myself up and reach forward, brushing his hair away from his face.
He leans into the touch.
Both hands wrap around my legs. “Once the repayment begins, the magic takes on a life of its own, Callie. Do you still want my dare?”
Judging by where we are, how Des is touching me, and the heat in his eyes, I know this is going to be something physical.
I should say no. I should protect myself from further emotional entanglements with this man. But after last night and this morning, I’ve decided to try a new tactic. One where I’m brave with my heart.
“Yes.”
Triumph flares in his eyes. He pushes my chest back down. Already I can feel the magic coiling around us, waiting, waiting. Unlike most other times when I feel it bearing down on me, now the Bargainer’s power feels warm, pleasant, like it’s just there to add to the experience.
Hands returning to my calves, he pulls me to the edge of the bed, my legs hanging off the mattress, the chiffon dress I donned this morning now hiking up nearly around my waist. Up Des’s hands slide, over my knees, and along my inner thighs.
I gasp when his fingers brush against the lacy panties I’m wearing.
Des’s breath hitches as he draws my dress up higher, getting a good look at my lingerie.
“How I have imagined …” he murmurs, his eyes roving over me, “and it has never done you justice.”
He imagined this?
Hooking his fingers around the lace edges, he drags my panties off, uncovering me inch by inch.
Under my mounting desire, I’m scared.
Fate’s too cruel to ever give you more than a taste of what you want. I’m afraid this is my taste.
“Cherub,” Des says, tossing my panties aside. He stares at my core, mesmerized, “I am going to make you feel good. So, so good.”
Pushing my dress up even higher, his lips begin to kiss the skin just below my belly.
“Des …” My heart’s going to hammer out my chest.
I lick my lips, my throat dry.
Des runs a finger over my core. I gasp out in surprise, my skin beginning to brighten.
He does it again, and now my hips move. A low sound comes from Des.
A finger dips into me, and my mind goes utterly blank.
He slips in another finger and I let out a low moan.
“That’s it, Callie.”
“Des.” I need more. Far more.
He removes his fingers and, while I’m watching, he licks them one by one.
That is so filthy. And Lord help me, I’m aroused by it.
He lets out a groan. “Better than my imagination.”
He hitches one of my legs over his shoulder, then the other, opening me to him. It’s all so very indecent. The Bargainer’s eyes move from my core, to my eyes.
“Fair warning: I’m not stopping until you come.” And then he leans in.
At the first touch of his mouth, I suck in air. It’s going to be too much, I can already tell.
He licks around my inner lips, throwing in a nip here and there, teasing me. Soon I’m making sounds I’m not proud of. I don’t know what to do with my hands, so I twist them in the sheets.
“My cherub. So sweet, so responsive,” he says between kisses, his voice rough.
Jesus, this man wasn’t lying when he said he was the overlord—or king, whatever—of sex. Has oral ever felt so good?
That’s a rhetorical question. Answer’s no. And he hasn’t even made it to my clit yet.
He toys with me, and I don’t fucking care because the Bargainer is between my legs and he’s not going to stop until I come.
But then he does stop toying with me, and suddenly, he means business. His tongue moves over my clit, again, and again.
Oh God.
Too much. Far too much. My hips move of their own accord, my body glowing brighter than those sparklers hanging throughout the room. I can’t take this.
I try to crawl backwards, away from his mouth, panting.
“Ah, ah, cherub,” he says, dragging me back, “you’re not going anywhere. Not until I’m finished with you.”
He won’t release me. He won’t release me, and I’m bucking against him.
I let out a strangled sob. “Des, please.” There’s way too much sensation down there, and it’s building. Building, building, building.
“Come for me.” He’s now just sucking on my clit.
Impossible to think through this.
“Des.” My body is just a bundle of nerves, all of them taut. I can’t get away, and I can’t stand much more of this. I’m right on the edge, and with each stroke of his tongue …
“Come.”
… I begin to fall.
“Oh my god, Des.” The siren’s entered my voice.
I stare blankly at the beautiful ceiling, my vision going unfocused, as my orgasm lashes through me, lasting longer and burning brighter than any others I’ve ever had.
By the time I come down, the Bargainer is kissing my inner thighs, his touch still proprietary. My legs slip off of his shoulders, and he catches them, closing them gently and pulling my dress down.
He gathers me in his arms and moves us to the head of his bed.
I stare at him with astonishment.
“That was …” Incredible. Mind-blowing. Unbelievable.
“A long time in coming,” he finishes for me.
Des strokes my hair back, his eyes filled with such longing. My heart squeezes at the sight of it. Leaning in, he kisses me, and I taste myself on his lips. It’s vulgar and arousing, and my dimming skin brightens all over again.
His fingers trail across my arm.
I stare up at him, trying like an idiot not to think about the fact that Des just went down on me. This beautiful man who’d always been so out of reach took a bead just so that he could give me an orgasm.
The world is utterly backwards—and I never want it to right itself.
“What are you thinking about?” I ask.
“So much, cherub.”
I finger the bronze war bands that circle his upper arm.
“I’ve imagined you in my bed a thousand times,” he continues, his gaze on me.
This moment is surreal to me.
“A thousand times?” I don’t know what to do with the woozy, lightheaded sensation that rolls through me. It’s somewhere between elation and flattery, and hope so sharp it hurts. Once again, I’m scared—of him, of us. Of h
aving everything I ever wanted within my grasp, only for it to slip through my fingers. Because it will slip through my fingers. That’s just the nature of things.
He presses his lips close to my ear. “Do you want to know a truth of mine?”
“Always,” I say, turning my head to better face him.
He takes my hand and presses it against his chest. Beneath my palm I feel his heartbeat racing.
My eyes move from his chest to his face.
“It does that whenever I’m around you,” he says.
I stand out on his balcony, looking out at the night sky. Once I regained the use of all my limbs, I explored Des’s rooms, ending up out here.
I stare out at all those pale buildings and gardens that spread out from the castle.
The Bargainer reigns over all of this.
Over all of this and more.
Des steps out onto the balcony.
“Most of the time I forget that you’re a king,” I say.
“I’m glad,” he says, coming in behind me. He braces his arms on the railing, caging me in. “I don’t want you to think of me as a king. I want you to think of me as a man.”
I understand that. Labels can be dangerous, dangerous things, even when they’re seemingly desirable.
“I want to know about this side of you,” I say.
I want to know how he came into power. How many years he’d been ruling. I want to know whether he made decisions by himself, or if he had a committee of trusted advisors. I want to know all the boring, inane things that went along with his position because I simply want to know more about him.
He presses a kiss to my shoulder. “One day, cherub, I’ll tell you,” he says.
I turn towards Des, staring down at the skin he just kissed. I catch sight of the intricate tattoos running along Des’s left arm and begin to trace them.
Beneath my fingers, I feel him shiver.
“Where did you get these?” I ask.
“That is also a story for another time.”
Des and his secrets. Always his secrets.
I sigh, returning my attention to his kingdom.
The two of us stand together like that for a long time, not talking.
“Want to know a secret?” the Bargainer asks.
This must be a consolation prize; I’m not to know about who Desmond the king is, or about the ink that stains his arm, but he will give me a secret—forget that it might not have anything to do with anything.
“Yes,” I breathe. I’m pathetic enough to take what I can get.
He wraps an arm around my midsection, pressing my back flush against his chest. “The Kingdom of Night is the strongest kingdom in the Otherworld. Tell that to fae of any other realm, and they’ll argue with you. But it’s true.”
He points over my shoulder to the sky above. “Tell me, what do you see out there?”
I follow his finger, looking up at the night sky. It glitters with thousands and thousands of stars, each one so much brighter than any I’ve ever seen on earth.
“Stars,” I say.
“That is all you see?” he asks.
“Other than the night, yes.”
“The night,” he repeats, his thumb stroking the skin of my stomach through the fabric of my dress. “That is precisely why people take my kingdom for granted. No one sees the darkness, and yet it’s everywhere. We are surrounded by an entire universe of it. It came before us, it will live on long after us. Even the stars might form and then die, but the darkness will always be there.
“That also happens to be why the Night Kingdom is considered the most romantic of realms. Not only do lovers meet under the cloak of darkness, darkness is the most eternal of all things. To declare your love until the end of night is the most sacred and undying of vows.” More quietly he adds, “It’s the oath I will take when I bind myself to my queen.”
Knife wound to the gut.
I don’t want to hear about Desmond’s future queen, not on the wings of what we’ve done together. It’s not like he’s making the proposal to me, after all.
I’m embarrassed that I even care. I shouldn’t, but it’s like I can’t help but open myself up to him.
“Lucky girl,” I say, pushing away from the wall, and him along with it.
I feel Des’s eyes on me as I cross through his room.
“No,” he corrects, “she won’t be the lucky one. I’ll be.”
Chapter 19
April, seven years ago
This can’t last.
I lay in the Bargainer’s arms, my eyes drifting closed as he strokes my hair. I fight sleep, not wanting to lose a moment of this.
Ever since I woke from that nightmare, my window in pieces and Des inside my room, he’s stayed with me each night until I’ve fallen asleep. Perhaps even longer.
His body feels like it was made for me, every dip and groove of it fitting against mine like puzzle pieces. But it’s more than just the way I fit against him, it’s the way he smells, a scent there is no name for, and the way his arm curls around my back.
Right in the base of my stomach there’s a sense of rightness being in his arms, like this is the only place I truly belong.
Does he feel it too? Or am I simply making fairytales out of smoke and shadows?
These are question I come back to often.
My eyelids lower, and I fight to keep them open, my gaze moving to the Bargainer’s ear. I reach out and trace the pointed edge of it.
Fae ears.
Beneath my touch, Des shudders.
“You hide these,” I say. I swear that most of the time they look blunted—human.
“Sometimes,” he agrees.
Gently, he removes my hand.
It’s quiet, the lights around the room have long since gone off. Even in the darkness, I can sense Des’s shadows blanketing me, and they make me feel safe. Before him, I had so many reasons to fear the night.
Now, I anticipate it, because it brings me him.
“Thank you,” I murmur.
“For what, cherub?” he says.
“Everything.”
He stops stroking my hair for a moment. When he begins again, I swear I feel his thumb brush across my temple. The lightest of caresses.
I begin to drift off to sleep, so I’m not sure whether I imagined the final words he breathed into the night—
“For you, no less.”
Present
After our conversation, the two of us get back to business. Namely, seeing the sleeping warriors. If the Bargainer notices that I’m being distant, he doesn’t say anything.
What is there to say? That he’s sorry? In this, he’s not at fault. Love isn’t something you can fake. And while Des has been affectionate with me, kind to me, and physical with me, he hasn’t mentioned anything about love.
I’m the one that can’t smother these feelings that have been festering inside me for years.
The Bargainer takes me down flight after flight of stairs, deep down into the bowels of his castle, until we arrive at a balcony that must be located on one of the lowest levels of the palace. Beyond it the land drops away and the buildings are terraced one on top of the other, all the way down into the darkness.
We approach the edge of the railing, brisk night air whipping my hair.
I lean over it. “Where to now?”
Des’s arms wrap roughly around my waist.
“What—” I barely have time to stare at the bands of muscle that grip me and his intricate sleeve of tattoos before he leaps into the air, his claw-tipped wings unfurling.
I yelp as my body jerks up with him.
I should’ve known as soon as I saw the balcony that we were flying somewhere.
Only, Des has stopped flapping h
is wings. That’s about the moment I realize that we’re not flying up. We’re diving.
Nothing can describe the sheer terror of falling into an abyss headfirst. The wind thrashes my hair about my face and steals away my breath as we plummet. A dizzying number of balconies and gardens blow by us, terraced along the inner rock walls of this strange island. The whole thing looks like a doll house. I see cross sections of homes and shops, temples and gardens. And as we dive, each level gets dimmer and dimmer.
We continue down, until the buildings are cloaked in darkness. Down here it feels less like the city of night and more like a void.
Our descent slows, and the Bargainer’s great wings unfurl above me as he angles us towards an unassuming balcony almost at the bottom of the chasm. The buildings around us are less adorned than the ones above, and the thorn-covered vines that snake around the railings and column-lined porticos appear almost sinister.
As soon as we land, my body sways in his arms from the rush of blood.
His grip on me tightens when I try to pull away. “Give yourself a moment, Callie,” he says, his voice low.
I do, not entirely minding his embrace.
Once Des senses that I’ve stopped swaying, he releases me.
I glance around what must be one of the lowest levels of the city. It’s cold here, colder than the open air above. “What is this place?”
“Welcome to the capital’s industrial district, where Somnia’s exports leaves and its imports arrive.”
So people don’t live here per se. That’s a relief. Compared to the rest of the city, this area is kind of a bummer. I mean, it’s beautiful, in a creepy way, but it isn’t a place I would want to linger.
I glance towards the simple wooden door that leads inside from our balcony. Unease stirs low in my belly. I can’t detect magic the same way a fae might, yet even I don’t want to walk through that door, though I’m sure that’s precisely what we’re going to do.
Not a moment later my suspicions are proven correct when Des steers me towards the door.
“This used to be a storage facility,” he explains, “just like the rest of the buildings in this area. It was converted to a temporary shelter for the sleeping when we ran out of space …”