CHAPTER 27: TWENTY SEVEN

It’s happening again.

Dream-walking, they called it.

I do not know where I am, but my feet move, seeming to know where to go. The marble is cold under my bare feet and a silken robe a silken robe slides like water against my skin.

The walls around me are familiar, though, I know I’ve never been here before. I know who waits beyond the black oaken doors. My hand pushes them open, though my body moves without my will, every step drawn out, languid, sultry.

He lifts his head from the scrolls scattered across the table, a slow smile curving his lips as violet-tinged eyes rake over me.

It is then I notice that I am not in my body, either. This body is taller, fuller, dressed in little more than straps meant to reveal, not conceal. My nipples harden in the cool air; my breasts swell, gleaming with scented oils that perfume my skin.

I feel different. Old as death, like the world is but a rubble that belongs underneath my feet and I exist to rule it.

But I know these are not my feelings. I am a passenger in someone else’s memories.

Still, it shouldn’t feel this way. Like I am reliving a day in some past life. Like... if I could just extend my hand and reach for the shelf on the left, I’ll find the sword my prince keeps hidden in the dark.

"Ilya."

I fall into a deep curtsy, chest lowering, and my lips curve into a smile when I feel the heat of his gaze entrapped on my cleavage, lingering. "My Prince." Shivers erupt over my skin as I raise my head to meet his darkened, hungry eyes. "You did not come to bed. I thought... I might check before the night grew lonely."

A silver brow arches. "Dressed like that?" His chuckle skitters over my skin, soft as his caresses and just as intrusive as his mouth when he fucks me with it. He rises from his desk and makes his way over to me until his s fingers cups my cheek. "Tell me why you are truly here. What does my princess wish to coax from me? You know I cannot deny you when you come to me like this."

I drag my tongue across my lower lip, watching his eyes track the motion. "Don’t go."

His hand falls and he turns away from me. "We’ve been over this, Ilya. Do not try to change my mind. Do not plead with me on this. You know how it wounds me to refuse you."

I sink to my knees before him, clutching his thigh. "We cannot trust them! They’ve hunted us for as long as we’ve lived. They’ve killed my brothers, murdered our parents. We do not strike bargains with devils. Nothing good comes from it. It is a trap!"

My Prince’s violet gaze hardens. "This is something I must accomplish, Ilya. My ancestors failed at it and it has led to the deaths of so many. I cannot push it back just because you plead with me to. The lives of thousands rest upon this treaty."

I sigh. What my prince wants, he gets. There is no changing his mind when he sets his sight onto something. I just wish he wasn’t so naïve.

The thoughts slam into me with several other feelings of frustration and a sliver of fear. The woman piloting my body trails her hands up his calves. "Then, take me with you."

The Prince shakes his head, silky hair tickling my skin. "You are with child. I will not risk you--"

"I can fight!" I snap, annoyance ripping through me. "Cease treating me like I am fragile. I am heir of House Blackspire. The flames in my veins burn just as hot as my rage does. I am fire to your ice, and you are the steel that funnels my rage. Wherever you go, I follow. It has always been our bond."

His jaw locks, the muscle jumping. "Do not challenge me on this, Ilya. You will remain. I will not hear another word of this."

The Prince turns his back on me. On us. It has become difficult to separate her emotions from mine and I feel the grief in her like it is mine. Tears sting my eyes. "Do you remember what you said to me when you abducted me from my father’s castle?"

Slowly, he faces me again. The hardness in his gaze softens. "That you were the only woman who could bring me to my knees. That you need only ask for the world, and I would place it at your feet, if you would consent to be my Queen." His lips tilt in a fond smile. "You answered by breaking my nose and calling me a pig."

A smile ghosts across my lips. I step close, hand pressed to his chest, feeling the steady thrum beneath my palm. "Then hear me now. I accept. I will be your Queen." His breath catches, nostrils flaring, but I do not stop. "And as your Queen, I demand the world you promised me. Set it at my feet. Do not leave me."

I see the war in his eyes, the tremor in his muscles. So I rise on my toes and press my lips to his.

His reaction is instant. He never could refuse or resist the taste of my lips. A groan rumbles from his chest as his mouth slants over mine, crushing me closer by the back of my neck.

The desk rattles when he lifts me onto it, scrolls scattering, glass shattering. His hands sear my thighs, dragging back the straps of silk as I rip his red tunic in half, baring his chest and tug him free of his breeches.

I--She--Oh gods, I think as a hand slips between my legs and strums against me expertly like he is plucking the strings of his favourite instrument.

My head drops back and my eyes shut as my hips buck, grinding hard against him, seeking to bring him to my entrance.

And then, he drops to his knees, dragging my hips to the edge of the table, and my soft moan echoes in the chambers as he drapes my legs over his shoulders.

"Spread your pussy for me," he murmurs darkly.

No. I do not want to see any more of this, I scream into the woman’s head, at the universe, but instead, my hand glides down, fingertips brushing against his as I begin... stroking myself. The purr that slips from me is diabolical, something from the very pits of hell.

In tandem to my strokes, my prince pushes two fingers deep inside me, and curls.

My eyes roll back in my head, a ragged cry leaving my lips.

"Move your hips for me, love," he croons, and I obey him, lips parting, breath breaking as I rock back and forth against those fingers spreading me apart. He nods in encouragement, watching where his fingers sink into me, again and again, my wetness trickling down his fingers.

His pupils dilate, eyes begining to glow iridescently. Gold. Violet. Black. Beautifully undone. The beast in him calls to me to collect his due and when he reaches to press his face against me, I don’t object.

The beast in him rattles in his chest as his tongue glides over me, drinking from his well of desire. He sucks and nips on my clit, forcing a cry of pain from me, but he soothes me with his tongue and repeats the action again. And again.

"Luke," I breathe, pain bleeding into pleasure, and pleasure into something darker.

I don’t know where she ends and where I begin. I don’t know where he ends and where she begins.

But I feel the quake in the earth. In my bones as I reach the precipice of something impossible. An ecstacy that flees from me the faster I chase it.

And just when I finally have it within reach, the doors slam open behind us and a benign roar ejects me from the memory.

"GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY HEAD!"