I stand her straight and lace my fingers through hers. And then I pull her down the hall.
It’s been decades since I’ve been to Cryptgarden. My last memory of my time here—Kel’s rage, the hurt in his eyes when he saw me and his army—threatens to overtake my mind, but I shove it away. Right now, I will stay present in this moment. For her. For me.
Though it’s been forever, I know my way through these halls. And things don’t change much down in the bowels of the Vale. It’s probably still here.
I lead us up a staircase that winds round and round one of the towers.
She says nothing, but excitement lights up her face. My heart thunders.
The stairs land us on the ramparts of the castle, the walls lined by a series of violet doors. “The residents of Cryptgarden Castle have a bit of an obsession with the world above. Many consider themselves collectors. They keep treasures from the surface within this section of the castle.”
“Wouldn’t the residents prefer to move to one of the realms?” Rosalina asks.
I bite the inside of my cheek, trying to remember the right door. “It’s not so simple. Many are considered traitors from conflicts predating the War of Thorns. Others seek refuge; it’s a place where smugglers, illegal merchants, or shunned nobility can disappear.”
Rosalina looks over the edge of the railing, staring out beyond the castle to the vast city below. An image flashes unbidden into my mind: Kel standing on the top of this very tower. “Admit it, Ez. There’s a certain beauty here.”
I never saw it. The jewels shine with magic sapped from the earth, the purple and sapphire light has no natural source, no sky, only hazy fog above.
I breathe in, trying to detect the scent of wood and dirt. “Through this door.”
Rosalina squeezes my hand tight and follows me. I try the door handle. Locked.
“Let me.” Rosalina pulls a thorn from her crown and leans down to the lock.
I place my hand on her hips, my groin pressed against her ass.
“You’re distracting me,” she says, though her voice is low and husky. The lock clicks open, and she looks up at me, giddy pride on her face.
I run a hand along her cheek. “So that’s how you escaped from your room all those months ago. You got me in a lot of trouble.”
She examines me with a half-veiled gaze. “I could make it up to you.”
My hand grips her jaw, and I push her against the doorframe. “Not could. You will, Petal.”
Her only response is her rapid breath and a delicious red flush over her cheeks and across her nose. I can’t wait another second. I need her alone now.
Opening the door, I grip Rosalina by the hair and gently push her inside.
“Oh my god,” she gasps. “What is this?”
Thank the stars Caspian truly hasn’t changed. I knew he’d still have this place. We walk into a small indoor arboretum. The room is dim but lit by huge crystals growing out of the ground like trees, gleaming with an ethereal blue and purple light. The air is thick with the heady scent of flowers from each of the four realms: only the rarest and most beautiful. Some shimmer like precious gems, their petals infused with an inner light.
Iridescent ferns glow like fireflies and leaves the size of dinner plates appear like emeralds ready to be plucked from the earth. A mossy bed lies in the middle, wavering with prismatic light.
“It’s a secret garden,” Rosalina whispers, turning in a circle.
“No one can deny Caspian loves beautiful things.” I lock the door, then feel for my magic. It’s so weak down here, far from Castletree, but I’m still able to grow a thick spiderweb of vines across the door frame. I can’t risk anyone finding us.
Not with what I plan to do.
“Some of the plants look a little withered,” she notes.
A little withered is kind. Many of the plants look sickly, near death. “Things aren’t meant to grow down here. It’s a miracle this garden exists at all.”
I can only imagine what magic Caspian has sapped to keep these alive. But I don’t want to think any more about the Below. I only want to think about her.
Now that we’re alone and the clamor of the party is far away, an odd, antsy sensation stirs in my chest. Am I… nervous?
Rosalina raises a brow. “So, Prince Ezryn, may I ask why you’ve just locked me in a room alone with you?” Her hips sway side to side as she approaches me. She walks her fingers up my chest plate. “You should know I’m a very dangerous human.”
Her playfulness washes over me, and my nervousness quells. I weave my fingers through her hair. “Trust me. I’m terrified.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll go easy on you.” Her fingers dance to the bare skin between my armor and my helm. “Unless you beg for it otherwise.”
A primal need surges through my body, and I twirl her against the planter of a large fern. “Now, don’t get ahead of yourself, little human. My honor is the most important thing to me.” I lower beside her ear, voice low and smoky. “And I made you a promise.”
She folds against me, and I heave her legs around my hips. At the contact between my cold armor and her bare sex, she cries out, and I nearly moan from the sweetness of the sound. I grip her thighs, and she wraps her arms around the back of my neck.
So, this is what it’s like to have her in my arms. All those months at the castle when we sat across from each other at Keldarion’s forced dinners, I could barely muster up a word to her. And all the months she’d been away from us, I hated myself for my coldness. This is what I’d been missing.
I lower us down to the mossy bed. The shimmering light from the crystals paint her skin like a canvas of stardust. “You are a work of art. I’ll try not to tarnish you.”
She whimpers and laces her hands into the moss. Her body arches, head back, revealing her gorgeous long neck.
She sits up, eyes wide and frantic, and grips the side of my helmet. “Ruin me. I am yours to do with as you like. Take me and discard me, as long as I can be yours for a moment.”
The idea fills me with delirious heat: the idea of my sweet woman, in all her softness and humor, willing to be debased by me. The beast inside me thrashes against my chest. Take her. Take her.
“Ezryn—” she whines, but I silence her with a finger to her lips. Her expression flashes with annoyance and she wraps her mouth around my finger. I close my eyes and groan as her tongue swirls up and down, her eyes never leaving mine.
“Here I was, going to be so nice to you,” I say. “And you’re being very bad.”
She frees my finger with a pop. “What are you going to do about it, Tin Man?”
I prowl my full body over hers and place a hand softly on her throat. “Call me that one more time.”
A teasing smirk tugs at the corners of her lips. “Or what… Tin Man?”
Fire ignites throughout my body, and I mount her, pinning her to the ground with my legs. One of my hands grips the base of her hair hard. The other one wraps tighter around her throat. “Is this what you wanted, naughty girl?”
Her mouth opens in a soft gasp, and her eyes nearly roll to the back of her head. “Oh, yes,” she whimpers.
“You can still talk. I must not be squeezing tight enough.” I press more of my weight down upon her. “Blink twice if it’s too much, alright, Baby Girl?”
She bucks her hips up against me in response. I growl, my cock raging against the restraints of my armor. Fuck, she looks exquisite with my hand necklaced around her throat. I pull her hair harder, and see the movement mimicked by her own hands in the moss. Sorry, Caspian.
I release my hold on her and sit back. She gasps for breath, and her eyes are wet and shiny. “Ezryn…”
I run a hand across her cheek. “What a good girl.”
She lets out a frustrated mewl and starts clawing at my armor. “How do I take this off?”
I laugh and ease her arms back down to her side. “Close your eyes.”