A Touch of Poison (Shadows of the Tenebris Court, #2)

She snapped upright. “What?”

“It’s a secret lodestone. I’m giving it to you. Only one other person has a key for Dawn’s side.” I nodded towards the other door. “But if you lock it with your ring, they can’t come through and startle you while you’re in here.”

She looked at me as though I was speaking in tongues.

“I planted all this for you. Well”—I gestured at the fountain and the other side of the courtyard, which I’d cleared but awaited plants—“half of it. I thought you might like to do the rest. Now you can control your magic, I’m sure you can plant some roses.”

She blinked at the empty flower beds. “I… I don’t…” She touched her chest. “You did this for me?”

“Of course. I hesitated about telling you about it before you had a cure. I didn’t want you to feel obligated to stay because of this. But now you’ve decided to stay for a while at least, I thought it would give you some pleasure.”

Her chin trembled, and she frowned at the plants. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Say nothing. Just enjoy it.”

I stood back as she walked a slow circuit, skimming her fingertips over plants, the fountain’s stone edge, the bench I’d uncovered beneath the brambles.

“Bastian,” she said at last. She clasped her hands before her. “This is so much—so perfect. Thank you.”

“It’s my pleasure—truly. I look forward to seeing what you do with it.”

“Hmm.” She nodded, glancing at the plants. “It’s so warm in here, everything’s flowering months early. The palace walls—their magic must create a microclimate.” She went on, muttering to herself about soil type and rose varieties.

I shut my eyes, letting the passion in her voice flood over me as I had in Riverton Palace’s gardens. Listening to her speak to the supposed gardener about roses had revealed the fire behind her guarded exterior. From that moment I’d been doomed.

“You know…” She said, suddenly close, and when I opened my eyes, I found her only a foot away. “I haven’t properly shown you my gratitude for being my antidote all these months.”

“You don’t need to thank me for that.”

“I wasn’t going to thank you.” She peered up at me from beneath her lashes. “You like the feel of my poison, don’t you? When it’s just a light dose.”

My cock twitched at her tone, yet my chest grew tight. This felt dangerous, like it might be a trap to allow her to wrestle control from me. With hesitance, I nodded.

She blinked up at me, all innocent, but the way she slowly licked her lips was anything but. “Then tell me to get on my knees so I can show you exactly how grateful I am.”

A groan so low it was just beyond hearing reverberated in my chest. Still… “You don’t have to do—”

“I know.” She placed her hand on my chest, touch hot through my shirt. “I choose to. Now tell me.”

I slid my fingers into her hair, breaths suddenly a little too fast. “On your knees, love. Show me what that lying little mouth can do.”

With a smirk to put the Wicked Lady to shame, she obeyed.





82





Bastian





I had every one of my spies stationed around the palace and key routes through the city. An army of entertainers, cooks, and guards filled the building with unfamiliar faces, but somehow we reached the start of the wedding ceremony and nothing had gone wrong.

As the queen’s representative, I stood on the throne room’s dais, with the royal entrances behind me, one in each corner. Ahead, the aisle led to two sets of double doors—the main entrances used by most folk from Dusk and Dawn. Snowdrops, narcissi, and golden suns decorated the space for Dawn’s triumph—marrying off one of its heirs and the hope more would come from their union. The ceremony would be held in here, followed by a ball in Dawn, then we’d return here late this afternoon for the eclipse when Braea would appear and make a speech with the king.

I’d exchanged a few polite words with Lucius and his wife, who sat to one side. Questions about unCavendish and the Crown of Ashes plagued me whenever I saw him, but they were questions that had to go unasked.

From the rows of seats, a steady murmur of conversation filled the room as guests waited. Towards the back, Faolán’s bulky form stuck out, and I met his gaze. He went still, brow furrowing. Mine matched it.

This was only the second time I’d seen him since Kat had rid herself of her husband. The first had been a terse exchange, giving him orders as part of the security preparations, and Rose had given me an apologetic look after.

It felt like I was the one who should be apologising to her—she was the one caught between us, after all.

I pushed myself to give him a nod. He wasn’t to blame—not solely. And hadn’t I held on to old rules too long, myself? Childhood lessons were hard to escape.

As I continued surveying the crowd, I caught myself searching for rich red hair, even though I knew she wasn’t here yet. Force of habit.

As an offering of friendship to Dusk, Zita had asked Kat to be one of her attendants. I struggled to believe their good intentions, but Sepher told me she’d taken a liking to Kat.

There was plenty to like.

I tugged on the collar of my formal shirt, stomach dipping at the memory of Kat on her knees for me yesterday. Holding my gaze as she took my cock down her throat, she’d responded to my directions exquisitely and gone on with her own explorations until I’d erupted over her tongue.

After, perhaps high on being cured or what she’d done to me, she’d begged me to take her to a piercer. I’d sat there as she’d bared her breasts and had them pierce her nipples. She’d barely flinched as they’d pushed the needle through, but last night I’d been gentle and thorough with my ministrations, cleaning her skin and applying a healing salve.

Just when I thought I knew her and all that she was becoming, she surprised me.

I’d left her getting ready in our rooms a few hours ago, and now I burned to see her.

“You look more excited about all this than I do.” From his seat, Sepher arched an eyebrow at me. Ankle resting on his knee, he spread out, taking up the chairs either side of his.

“Aren’t you eager to see your future wife?”

His lips curled. “Not as eager as you are to see yours.”

I had to bite back a smile. Now there was an idea.

This new Sepher—the one who’d been exiled from the city for years—I almost liked. If not for our shared past and divided courts, we might’ve been friends.

I let myself indulge in his suggestion. What would it be like to stand up here as the groom waiting to marry Kat? It felt warm and tight like one of her hugs—like I was safe.

The cello struck up at that moment, soon followed by harp and flute, breaking through my daydream.

I kept hold of a wisp of its disappearing form and tucked it in my heart.

Sepher flashed a wide grin and stood. “It’s time.” His hands clasped together, knuckles whitening, and for a moment I had a glimpse of the nervous excitement behind his easy fa?ade.

Clare Sager's books