Chapter 79 Chapter Seventy-Nine
The way Draevyn approached Lyressa had been… disarming.
Not arrogant.
Not swaggering the way some Unseelie warriors carried themselves when they stepped into Seelie territory.
Draevyn moved with quiet confidence—measured, deliberate steps across the throne room floor. His storm-gray eyes lifted to meet hers, and for one brief, impossible moment Lyressa felt as though the entire hall had gone still around them.
He bowed properly.
Deep.
Respectfully.
Not the shallow gesture of obligation most visiting commanders offered.
When he rose, he reached for her hand.
Lyressa had expected the cold brush of duty.
Instead, the touch was warm.
His lips grazed the back of her hand in a gesture of courtly respect, and when he looked up again, there had been something unguarded in his expression.
“I give you my word, Your Majesty,” Draevyn had said, voice low but resolute. “I will not leave your court until we uncover the truth behind what’s happening to your people.”
And she believed him.
Every word.
For weeks afterward, Draevyn worked beside her council as if the Seelie Court were his own. He listened more than he spoke. Questioned everything. Walked the gardens where the victims had last been seen. Studied the reports from her healers and the whispers from her spies.
He never treated the matter lightly.
Never dismissed the growing fear spreading through her people.
And slowly—dangerously—Lyressa found herself noticing other things.
The patience he carried.
The sharp intelligence behind those storm-colored eyes.
The way he treated her advisors with respect instead of disdain.
The way he spoke to the grieving families of the fallen women—with a gentleness no one expected from an Unseelie commander.
No.
Lyressa told herself again and again in the quiet hours of those weeks.
No.
He is Unseelie.
Seelie and Unseelie unions were more than discouraged—they were nearly unheard of. The two courts had spent centuries standing on opposite sides of the same world.
Too many differences.
Too many histories written in blood.
Such things never worked.
They couldn’t.
And yet…
Draevyn had been patient.
Kind.
Steady.
Protective.
Unwavering in his belief that the truth could be found.
Kaelani felt the echo of those thoughts from within the memory, watching through Lyressa’s eyes.
And she understood it immediately.
How easy it was to be swayed by him.
How effortlessly he made trust feel natural.
How dangerous a man like that could be to someone already carrying the weight of a crown.
The invitation had come lightly.
Almost casually.
Draevyn had leaned against one of the carved pillars of the Seelie war chamber after another long evening of dead ends and theories that led nowhere.
“You should come to the Unseelie court tonight,” he said, as if he were suggesting something simple. “Just for a few hours.”
Lyressa looked up from the scrolls spread across the table.
“To do what?”
His mouth curved faintly.
“Relax.”
She scoffed softly.
“You’ve seen the state of my court,” she replied. “Young women are dying, and you think I should spend my evening relaxing?”
Draevyn only studied her, those storm-gray eyes far too perceptive.
“That,” he said calmly, “is exactly why you should come.”
She crossed her arms.
“And what exactly happens during these… relaxing evenings of yours?”
A flicker of amusement passed over his face.
“We drink. We dance. We play games. Sometimes we argue loudly about absolutely nothing.” His brow lifted slightly. “And occasionally we even enjoy ourselves.”
Lyressa huffed under her breath.
The Seelie had always criticized such gatherings.
Unseelie nights of revelry were whispered about in her court as proof of their unruly nature—proof they were little more than indulgent heathens who lacked discipline.
“I’ll pass,” she said coolly. “I’d rather remain focused on the matter at hand.”
Draevyn didn’t argue.
He only inclined his head.
“As you wish, Your Highness.”
But later that night—
sleep refused to come.
Lyressa lay awake beneath the silken canopy of her bed, staring at the painted ceiling as moonlight drifted through the tall windows.
Her mind replayed the conversation.
Again.
And again.
The truth was… she was exhausted.
Weeks of fear and grief had settled into her bones like a sickness of its own. Every new report of another Seelie girl lost felt like a blade twisting deeper into her chest.
And Draevyn had been right about one thing.
She had not allowed herself a moment to breathe.
Lyressa exhaled slowly.
Before she could reconsider—
the air around her shimmered.
Light bent.
And the next moment she stepped through the threshold of the Unseelie court.
The courtyard was alive.
Music drifted through the air—wild and rhythmic, carried by instruments she didn’t recognize. Firelight flickered across carved stone pillars and winding ivy. Laughter spilled through the night like a living thing.
And there—
standing near a long stone table crowded with goblets and bottles—
was Draevyn.
The moment he saw her, his entire expression changed.
His eyes lit up with something dangerously close to delight.
“Well,” he said, pushing away from the table. “This is a pleasant surprise.”
Something in Lyressa’s chest shifted at the look on his face.
“I had trouble sleeping,” she said stiffly.
“Of course you did.”
Draevyn handed her a goblet of dark wine.
She accepted it before she could second-guess herself.
And the night unfolded from there.
They played games Lyressa had never seen before—some involving cards, others involving carved stones and elaborate wagers. Draevyn dominated nearly every round, his sharp mind and quicker reflexes earning groans and laughter from the others.
Lyressa found herself laughing too.
Gods help her.
She hadn’t laughed like that in weeks.
Music swelled again as dancers filled the courtyard floor, moving freely beneath the stars.
Draevyn offered his hand.
At first, she refused.
Then she reconsidered.
The dancing began easily enough—loose, playful movements that required little structure. But as the night stretched on, the distance between them slowly vanished.
Hands brushed.
Then lingered.
Their bodies moved closer.
Closer still.
Until the space between them carried a heat that neither of them could ignore.
Draevyn’s voice lowered near her ear.
“Come with me.”
Before Lyressa could fully think it through—
he led her away from the courtyard.
Into the forest.
The Dark Forest was darker than anything in her own realm. Moonlight barely pierced the towering trees, leaving the world wrapped in deep shadow and quiet magic.
But Draevyn moved through it like he belonged to the night itself.
He led her to a clearing where the forest floor was soft with moss and fallen leaves.
For a moment they simply looked at each other.
All the restraint she had clung to for weeks… broke the second Draevyn reached for her.
The kiss was slow at first.
Tentative-carrying every ounce of tension they had both tried to ignore.
Lyressa felt centuries of discipline fracture beneath the weight of the moment. Her fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt as he pulled her closer, the warmth of his body grounding and dangerous all at once.
When he lowered her gently onto the forest floor, Lyressa didn’t resist.
Not once.
He paused above her, searching her face.
Giving her time to stop him.
She didn’t.
Instead, her hand slid into his hair, drawing him back down to her.
That was all the permission he needed.
The kiss deepened—slow, hungry, full of something that had been waiting far longer than either of them dared admit.
Lyressa’s robe slipped from her shoulders, pooling around her in pale folds. Draevyn’s hands moved carefully as he loosened the laces of her nightgown, the fabric falling open beneath his touch.
His mouth followed the path of newly bared skin, swirling his tongue along her nipples, making her breath catch in quiet, startled gasps.
Somewhere beyond the moment—
Kaelani felt it.
Not the physical sensation, but the emotions wrapped around it. The way Lyressa’s heart pounded. The dangerous thrill of stepping beyond the lines she had been taught never to cross.
Lyressa stiffened slightly when Draevyn’s erect cock pressed against her core.
“I’ve never…” she admitted softly, the words fragile in the quiet night.
Draevyn stilled immediately.
His gaze lifted to hers, all the fire in him softening.
“I know,” he said quietly. “And I’ll be gentle.”
The promise settled between them like something sacred.
Lyressa drew a steady breath, then nodded.
When he finally entered her, she gasped at the unfamiliar sensation, instinctively gripping his shoulders as she adjusted to his length and thickness.
Once he felt her body relax around him, he began to thrust. Slowly at first, careful and measured, giving her time to find the rhythm with him. But the restraint didn’t last. His pace quickened, thrusts driving deeper as urgency began to eclipse the careful control he’d held moments before.
His groans deepened with pleasure, blending with her breathless moans and the wet, rhythmic sound of their bodies coming together again and again.
Kaelani experienced everything.
Not as a distant observer—but as if she were the one beneath him.
The raw, powerful rhythm of his body. The heat of his breath against Lyressa’s skin. The way his mouth moved across her throat and shoulders, leaving lingering kisses in their wake.
His voice was rough against her ear as he whispered words meant only for her.
“Lyressa…”
And then softer still—
“I love you.”
Lyressa arched beneath him, the sensation building until it shattered through her in waves.
Her gaze drifted upward to the moonlit sky as pleasure rippled through her, breaking over her again and again until it felt as though she were shattering into a thousand brilliant pieces in his arms.
This wasn’t Kaelani’s memory.
It wasn’t her love.
And yet she felt every piece of it—the pleasure, the surrender, the dangerous depth of ecstasy that pulsed between them.
And somewhere beyond the pleasure, beyond the bodies tangled beneath the stars, Kaelani understood one terrible truth—she was witnessing the beginning of a tragedy.