Chapter 11 Secrets in Blood 2
"Fate is inconvenient." He touched my face. "Are you alright?"
"No. Marcus is dead. My mother died to protect a secret your family kept. And we are stuck in this bond neither of us wanted." I leaned into his hand anyway. "But I am alive. So I suppose that counts for something."
"It counts for everything." His thumb brushed my cheek. "I found evidence against Lucian. Financial records tying him to the assassins. Correspondence with Cassian about overthrowing me. Enough to bring charges."
"When?"
"Tomorrow. Public trial. The entire court will watch." His eyes darkened. "But there is a problem."
"What?"
"Cassian invoked ancient law. Trial by combat. He is claiming Lucian was acting to protect the realm from a cursed king bound to dark magic." Kael's hand dropped. "Which means I have to fight him. And if I lose, Lucian goes free. You lose protection. And they will execute you before my body is cold."
My blood turned to ice. "Can you win?"
"Against Cassian? Yes. Easily. But he will not fight fair. None of them do." He walked to the window. "I need to feed. The curse has been quiet since the bond formed but fighting drains me. I need to be at full strength."
He meant my blood. My wrist. The intimacy we had been avoiding for three days.
"Come here," I said.
He turned. Looked at me like I was offering more than blood. Maybe I was.
I held out my wrist.
He crossed the room slowly. Took my wrist in both hands. His eyes stayed on mine.
"This might hurt more than before. I need to take enough to sustain me through combat."
"I trust you."
"You should not." But his fangs extended anyway. He brought my wrist to his mouth.
The pain was sharp. Then heat. Then pleasure that made my knees weak.
The bond exploded between us. Stronger than before. More demanding. I felt his hunger. His desire. His absolute need for more than just blood.
And he felt mine. The want I had been suppressing. The way my body responded to his mouth on my skin. The way I wanted him closer, deeper, everywhere.
He pulled me against him with one arm while he fed. My free hand fisted in his hair. We stood tangled together while my blood poured into him and the bond sang with satisfaction.
Too much. This was too much.
But I did not want it to stop.
Finally he released my wrist. Sealed the wound with his tongue. His eyes were black. Pupils blown. He was breathing hard and I could feel his control hanging by a thread.
"Sera," he warned.
I kissed him. Tasted copper. Tasted us.
His arms came around me and he lifted me like I weighed nothing. My legs wrapped around his waist on instinct. He walked us backward until my back hit the wall.
"We should stop," he said against my mouth.
"You keep saying that."
"Because it keeps being true." But his hands were already pulling at my shirt. Getting it off. Finding bare skin underneath.
I yanked at his shirt. Got it over his head somehow. Ran my hands over muscle and scars and cold skin that heated where I touched.
He kissed down my throat. My collarbone. Lower. His hands everywhere. Taking. Claiming. Like he had been holding back for days and finally broke.
Maybe we both had.
My fingers found his belt again. This time he did not stop me. This time he helped. Kicked off boots. Stripped me of pants. Until there was nothing between us except want and the bond demanding satisfaction.
"Last chance," he breathed against my ear. "Tell me to stop and I will."
"Do not stop." I pulled his face to mine. "I am tired of pretending I do not want this."
His eyes met mine. Red bleeding to black. "You are mine after this. Completely. No going back."
"I was already yours. The bond made sure of that."
He made a sound low in his throat. Then his mouth found mine and we stopped talking entirely.
He carried me to his bed. Laid me down like I was something precious instead of a half-blood he should hate. His body covered mine. Cold and solid and perfect.
What happened next was fire and darkness and pleasure that made me forget my own name. His mouth. His hands. The way he learned every sound I made and repeated whatever caused it. The way he watched my face like I was the only thing that mattered in his entire kingdom.
When he finally slid inside me the bond flared so bright I saw white. Connection deeper than blood. Deeper than magic. Soul deep.
We moved together and I understood why the bond formed. Why fate chose this. Because broken things fit together better than whole ones. His edges matched my cracks.
After, we lay tangled in sheets. His arm around me. My head on his chest. Both trying to breathe normally again.
"That was a mistake," he said quietly.
"Probably."
"We just made everything more complicated."
"Definitely." I traced a scar on his ribs. "Do you regret it?"
He was quiet for a long moment. "No. You?"
"No."
His arm tightened around me. "Get some sleep. Tomorrow is going to be brutal."
I closed my eyes. Felt safe for the first time since this started. Stupid. Dangerous. But real.
Sleep took me fast.
I woke to shouting.
Kael was already up and dressed. Weapons strapped on. His face hard.
"What is happening?"
"Cassian moved early. He is in the throne room demanding trial now. Claiming I am too cursed to rule. That the bond has corrupted me." His eyes met mine. "Lyra just sent word. He knows about the Shadowborn prophecy. All of it."
My blood froze. "How?"
"I do not know. But he is using it against us. Saying you are here to destroy the realm, not save it. That I am too blinded by the bond to see the truth." He strapped on a sword. "This is it. Trial by combat. Winner takes everything."
"Kael—"
"Stay here. Lock the door. Do not open it for anyone except me or Theron." He kissed me hard and fast. "If I do not come back—"
"You are coming back."
"If I do not," he continued. "Run. Take the servants' passages. Get to the Shadowlands. Find Rowan and his rebels. They will protect you."
"I am not leaving you."
"You will if you want to live." He touched my face one last time. "I am sorry. For everything. For your family. For dragging you into this. For—"
I kissed him. Shut him up. "Win. That is an order."
He almost smiled. Then he was gone.
And I was alone. Waiting. While the man I should hate fought for his life.
For our life.
Because the bond made us one.
And if he died, I would follow.
And if he died, I would follow.