Jessamine
I can’t say exactly when Kier joined me in bed but I’m awoken by kisses trailing my neck and a hard length pressing dangerously against my rump. Sleepy, I don’t fight the arms that circle around my middle. I moan when his hand tugs the strap of my dress enough to free my breasts from the silk, and when his fingers reach between my legs, I arch up my hips in response, rolling them with undulated lust to meet his fingers.
“You like that?” His thumb kneads my clit and I nod, whimpering.
He chuckles deeply, languishing in each stroke of his finger. “Of course, you do.”
A thrill runs through me as his hot breath dances along my neck, and my thighs clamp together, trapping his hand. “Part your thighs for me, love.” His voice is low and thick, but I don’t dare mistake his words for anything else but an order.
Weak-kneed, my legs fall apart and I groan at the slippery slide of his finger to my warm entrance. Saliva gathers in my mouth and I swallow it, releasing a breathy sigh. I bite my bottom lip and close my eyes as he rubs slow circles around me, teasing me. “Please,” I force out when he makes no move to soothe my ache.
He says nothing, does nothing. If anything, he goes slower, his other hand tightening around one breast, circling a nipple, pinching it, pulling it. “Is this what you wanted?” He presses hard on the aching bud in the same moment a finger slides in. I can’t help a quick inhale that sounds like a gasp. He groans, his cock bulging through his pants, pressing harder between my cheeks. I hump against him wildly, reaching back to touch his hair.
It earns me a deep, pleased laugh. “There you are.” He licks the shell of my ear. “Squeeze for me.”
My muscles contract around that single finger and my world zeroes on it as he pumps, scratching once against my inner walls. Twice. A third, and I moan, uncaring of the men standing guard outside. I’m aching to get him between my legs, but he doesn’t give me what I want. Instead, he fills me with another finger, crooking it and tugging forward. “Gods.” The cuss tumbles off my lips before I realize it, and I grip a fistful of Kier’s hair, riding against his fingers.
“This,” he says roughly, shoving in deeper. “You have no idea how much I want to—” He pulls out his fingers, and I turn my head a little to see them glisten as he puts them in his mouth and sucks. His eyes close and he growls deep in his chest, a sound of pure male satisfaction. Goddess boil me.
I reach forward to kiss him, but he suddenly moves and I find myself on my belly, my chest crushed against the mattress and my ass arched in the air. I feel the warmth of his mouth against the back of my thigh and I jerk forward. He lifts my gown slowly, and he growls again when I am bare-assed before him. “I see you, Jessamine,” he murmurs, cupping my heat, all five fingers running along it. “You think I don’t notice the way you strut about, swinging your hips for me? Biting your lips when I’m watching? Jiggling your breasts? Wearing those dresses that you know drive me crazy? You really can’t help it, can you?” He breathes against me, the heat of it eroding my senses. “Being the naughty, little witch that you are.”
“Go to hell,” I snap, my face burning up with shame, and I grip the sheets, intent on rolling away, only to be caught under Kier’s large hand, pressing me back into the bed until I’m unable to move, until all I can do is gasp for air.
“Your anger is not directed at me.” He twists his finger, adding another. “It is yourself you are displeased with and there’s no one else to take it out on but me.” His cock presses against my thigh as his fingers start to move steadily inside me. “And that’s fine. We can both pretend you loathe me, when it is indeed otherwise.”
“I do hate you, Kiernan.” My voice is husky and leaves an undesired effect
“You’re making me harder, Jess.”
I say nothing, because the fight in me is gone, replaced with hunger. My fingers tangle in the sheets and I may have ripped them. When I come, it is with a growl, and I even if I’m dripping off my thighs, exhaustion fraying at the edges of my mind, I don’t move, because I want more.
But Kier lays back in bed, pulling me along with him, and I am unable to hide my disappointment when he only holds me, waiting till my breaths calm and the haze of lust wanes. However, when he strokes my hair, running his fingers through in what feels like a loose braid, my eyelids grow too heavy to keep open, and soon, I fall asleep faster than an infant in her mother’s arms.
*****************
Lloyd is here.
Not even the guards could keep me contained when I heard the rumors from the lips of the maids. Rage boils within me as I race across the hallway, the skirts of my dress held up in my hands, flashing everyone with a view of my legs that I am quite sure they’ll never forget. How could Kier not tell me Lloyd was here? The buzzard had kissed me long and hard this morning, informing me of the several meetings he had to attend that were shortening our time together—he’d said everything but the fact that my friend was back home, safe.
“Princess,” one of the elite guards sidles up to me, taking a clean swerve to block my path. “The Alpha—”
“Can jump off a fucking cliff for all I care,” I spit, and the young man winces at my vicious tone. “You either take me to Lloyd, right now, or you stand aside. But stop me you will not, else you’ll find how creative we natives of Dawn get when we busy ourselves with ripping tongues out.” I smile evilly. “Go on, try me.”
He doesn’t, instead opting for the first option. We hit the stairs and Moira is at the top of it, descending with a train of women giggling behind her like drunk fools. She stops walking when she sees me. They stop laughing, their eyes flicking between us as tension spikes, a promise of violence wrapping firmly around it.
But I have not a care in the world for any of that, and I stomp angrily, cresting the stairs.
Moira is so fucking predictable, because why not try belittle me before the court? Or play the part of the victim so they can curse me or stone me to death? Her red lips lift coyly as she steps in front of me, as expected. “I suppose my husband has finally let his little mistress out to play.” Aquamarine eyes roam over me. “You look better. Must be all that shine from stealing something that isn’t yours.”
Not in the mood for her nonsense, I move right, but she blocks me again, grabbing my hand roughly and yanking me so that all that keeps me from falling down the stairs is the tip of my shoes. “This is temporarily. Gloat all you want, Jessamine. Flaunt those pretty feather of yours for…say what? A few more days? A couple of hours?” She snorts. “Once your use here is done, so will your time.”
By my use here, she speaks of my men in the garrison. They remain here for as long as I do, and I have no doubt Mikkel’s been busy readying them for the war while I’ve been busy being groomed to get laid by a fool who thinks it’s okay to keep secrets from me. I’m going to kill Kier. “The way I see it, it is you who lives on borrowed time.” I incline my head towards the crest around her neck, the clothes that cling to her skin. “None of what you have is even yours to begin with.”
She tenses, her grip tightening, and I see the way she glances at the stairs behind me, and the train of guards lining it. She’s contemplating how best to toss me that breaking my neck could be deemed an accident. “If there is anything the denizens of Neredia fear and forbid, it is a selfish ruler. In choosing you, Kier has gathered nothing but hate and opposition. He’s not long for the throne, and soon, he’ll be cut down.”
I cock a brow and ask loudly enough for everyone to hear, “Are you openly speaking of treason? Who will cut him down? You? Your father? Kytos?”
Her eyes dart to the number of people listening, and I see when she decides that now would be the best time to jump me. I feel her grip loosen around my arm with a hard, yet, imperceptible shove. I lean back, rooting my heel against the edge of the stairs. And then, it happens faster than I’d have loved for it too. I reach for her, as if to hold her for support, and when my fingers close around her shoulder, I surge forward. My fist slams into her face with a snap and someone screams as I spin on my heel, pushing her off the stairs with a barely audible murmur, “Learn to read the room. I’m really not in the mood today.”
She rolls down screaming, her feet and head hitting the concrete and I make a face as I turn away, not particularly interested in seeing if she’ll survive. I walk past her friends who rush down the steps to help her, and I catch a glimpse of Helen and Katherine, who have gone red from trying to contain their laughter. They nod once at me in acknowledgement. I don’t return it. I will never forget what they did to me.
The guards give up in their quest to help Moira when I round the corner, and rush after me, taking me to a secluded hallway with a few guards loitering around, keeping themselves hidden and out of the way. When I see Beta Randale standing outside the room I am being herded towards, my irritation only spikes.
The male notices me storming in his direction and he glances at the guards behind me. “Why is the princess out of her room?”
I give him a sharp smile. “Ask me to my face, Beta. I’m right here.”
Randale’s black eyes harden. “You can’t see him. He’s…unstable and unwell.” There’s an unmistakable undercurrent of grief in his voice. “We’ll be sure to send you word when he is deemed safe to be around.”
“Deemed safe to be around?” I echo, my chest tightening. “Lest you forget, the only reason he’s back home again is because I did something, while the rest of you sat on your asses waiting for Goddess knew what to get him back. You will not stop me from seeing my friend—”
“This is precaution, Highness,” Randale hisses, the muscles of his jaw tightening visibly, his hands trembling with repressed fury. “The Alpha has banned all from this room, this wing.” His gaze snapped behind me, and I feel the guards flinch from his unwavering stare. “Take her back and return to the watch tower once your replacement arrives. It would seem you lack the competency to manage one woman."
The doorknob rattles before I can retort. My wonderful mate emerges, eyes widening at the sight of me. "You shouldn't be here.
"This is how you plan to regain my trust? By lying and keeping secrets? Go fuck yourself. You don't tell me what to do." I breeze past him, knocking my shoulder into his arm like that’s supposed to hurt him. It doesn't, and I see him physically restrain himself from stopping me. Good, because I'm more than ready to put up a damn fight.
The windows are shut and the strong smell of incense fills my nostrils, coupled with foul smell of burned flesh and dried blood. Like the occupant in the room wanted nothing to do with the light, there is none at all to brighten the room, not even a streak of sunlight is let in and I have to rely on my sight. It takes a moment for my eyes to adjust, and when they do, I see the lone figure sitting by the edge of the bed, staring at the wall and murmuring words too jumbled to understand. He is dressed in large pants that might fall off his emaciated frame if he wasn’t sitting, and there are so many bandages wrapped around his upper body, it almost looks like he’s wearing a white shirt with blood stains.
The air whooshes out of my lungs and a painful lump grows in my chest as I dare a tentative step forward. “Lloyd?”
He freezes, head snapping up at the sound. But his eyes remain fixed on the wall.
I hold my breath, searching his side profile for even a glimpse of the man I know. Another step forward and Lloyd recoils like a serpent about to strike. My stomach flips as I throw caution and cross the room. Treating him like a stranger seems like an insult, an affront to everything he is to me.
“Jess,” Kier says in warning as I drop into a crouch in front of Lloyd. I ignore the warning, smiling softly as I peer up. “Hey.”
Lloyd's face turns, agonizingly slow. As his eyes glint in the dark room, my breath hitches, a sob clawing its way up my throat. He blinks, once, his head tilting in a mixture of open curiosity and chilling unfamiliarity.It can't be. My hand shoots out, seeking his, only to be met with a flinch and a flash of sharp canines, a fierce warning. Yet, I ignore it, gently grasping his wrist. Scars mar both, all of which suggest he was chained too tightly and he tried too many times to slit his wrists.
Panic rises in my chest but I stamp it down. I guide his hand to cup my cheek, because I don’t know what else to do. Grief stabs my stomach when his vacant stare becomes wary, distrusting. He opens his mouth, and his voice is breathy, too difficult to place the words. Every word seems painful. New. I know why that is instantly, having had my throat burned by Moira. What have they done to him?
"L-loyd," he rasps, his green eyes flickering as if trying to catch onto something. "I... I am...Lloyd."
I nod, tears streaking down my cheeks at the lost man in front of me. The world goes in and out of focus around me, and while all flees, one thing remains sharp and cold; fury. I'm going to kill Atticus. "Yes," I sob, the word choked with outrage. How could he not know his own name?
Lloyd gaze falls to my hand on his, and pulls away. He studies me a long moment and anxiety runs through the room like a physical current, gripping everyone in its hold. "I... remember you," he finally says.
Something in his posture shifts, but I can't decide what it is, because when he speaks again, it is with such calm, I think I may have gotten through to him; gotten past whatever was done to him. "You are... Jessamine...Hunter. The...Dawn Princess."
Atticus must have told him everything, but that isn't what chills me to the bone. It is the glacial look in his eyes and his next words that carve me into me. "The enemy's daughter." His face remains void of emotions as he adds, "It is your fault he killed Nadine. He lost use for her when you agreed to his terms."
"Jessamine!" Kier suddenly yells, his foot hammering into the floor as he runs. "GET AWAY FROM HIM!"
The urgency and panic in his voice snags my attention, confusing me, but I soon understand, a few seconds too late, when a dagger suddenly appears in Lloyd's hand and he stabs me.