Kael stood bare-chested, the dagger in one hand and a strip of black silk in the other, eyes closed. He listened to the ancient chants and the wind, hollow and dusty, carrying leaves into the air with a strange aura. Around him, the candles glowed faintly despite the snow. The air was thick and unnatural, but he was not ready to step back. He had gone too far to step back.
On the other side of the realm, within the Forgotten Court, pain struck.
The council meeting had ended abruptly, and Prince Rowan rushed back to his chambers urgently. Elias was on the bed when the door slammed open, and Blake walked in carrying the prince. His body jolted upright, his breath caught in his throat, and all he did was watch.
"No one is to be let in or out. And you," Blake turned to Elias, his eyes darkened for a second, then cold, "you should stay in the guest quarters. The prince is not in the right frame of mind," he added.
Elias turned to the door, and Kim was the only one watching. Sonia and Laura had long been dismissed.
"Why? So everyone would say I am slowly becoming a deposed consort?" He snapped, then sat down on the edge of the bed.
"Is this what he put you up to?" he asked, and Blake's gaze flicked from the prince to his consort. One was in danger, and the other was stubborn.
"Consort… I apologize, but these are not the prince's orders. But for your safety, it would be best you leave him alone tonight," he begged, each word sounding more desperate than the previous.
Elias sighed tiredly. It was a full moon, and unlike how he had expected things to turn out, nothing showed. It was time for him to experience another rut, but for some reason, it was delayed.
"Whatever. But I am not leaving." He stood and walked over to the balcony. "If he wants to get rid of me, he will have to do that by himself," he added, then turned to the door. "It's late. You're dismissed."
Blake glanced at Kim, defeated.
"You don't understand," he tried to say, but Elias's mind was made up.
"You should come back in the morning. I doubt your prince would need you running errands tonight."
Blake sighed heavily, but it was an order. He was under oath to obey the consort in the absence of the prince's words, and right at that moment, duty came first.
"No matter what happens… Do not wake him up," he warned.
Elias watched the door slam behind him, then his body relaxed. The snow was heavy, and he wore so little. Closing up for the night, he walked back to bed, but instantly he noticed something was wrong. Not only had Rowan not moved, but his body was too hot.
"Hey… Are you okay?" Elias touched his forehead, and it felt like it was on fire. He was anything but okay.
"Oh my God." He pulled Rowan closer, slowly taking off his shirt. "You're sick, and that guard of yours wouldn't even let someone take care of you," he scoffed.
But it wasn't just the heat. Rowan's eyes flared open, he coughed a little, and then his body felt the tender hands. They were soft, appealing, and tempting. His eyes stared down, and he watched Elias pull his shirt off. He did as he was told, took off his shirt, and came out of his trousers like an obedient child—but was he so compelled?
Elias was too focused; his hands moved quickly, but then he felt it—swiftly, his body was turned, and his back hit the soft mattress.
"Hey… this is not the time for jokes," he gasped, catching his breath.
Rowan's gaze settled on his lips as they moved. He could not make out every word.
"Joke?" His lips curled. "Who said anything about joking?" His hands traveled beneath Elias's shirt, warmly yet temptingly.
For a moment, Elias couldn't find his words. His body responded, and his mind anticipated more.
"You're cute when you talk," Rowan whispered, and his lips joined with Elias's.
It all felt so wrong, yet so right. Elias stiffened, his legs pinched. All alarms in his head were going off, but every touch rather entertained his body
"Rowan," Elias finally found his voice, his hands resting on Rowan's smooth chest. "You don't look good," he whispered, trying to push him away. But Rowan was stronger.
"I've never been better," Rowan hoarsely whispered. It made Elias's body tingle. His fingers tightened on his chest, and his eyes rested on his. They looked different—ancient as always, but tonight, they carried more. Maybe warmth. Maybe lust. He couldn't tell.
"This… we can't do this," Elias whispered, his body trembling as Rowan's hands navigated every inch.
"Say you don't want me… Tell me to stop," Rowan dared.
Elias's lips parted, and his hands trembled.
"I… I…" Elias stammered. The moment seemed to stop, his words caught in his throat.
"I want you." He leapt forward, slamming his lips against Rowan's. It was quick, but good.
Their bodies intertwined with each other's. Hands navigated every direction.
"Tell me what you want." Rowan groaned.
Elias's breathing spiked, his shirt now on the floor and his trousers tossed to the side. He was in nothing but pants. He shouldn't want this. Not like this. Not when he still didn't trust him.
"I want… kiss me," he moaned—and like a spell, Rowan obeyed every request.
Elias's back hitched forward, his legs spread, and his temperature rose. The room was hot with sweat and pleasure, but in the shadows, curses poured.
Kael was ready. It was time. And he waited as the clock struck twelve.
He took the dagger and sliced across his palm. Blood spilled, dripped onto the candles, and the fire sparked harder.
"Speak the words," Mistress Diana ordered, her hair flying in the wind as she chanted more ancient words.
"By blood and bone, I vow under the moon of the Forgotten Gods… Let no seed sown by Elias bear fruit beneath heaven or hell. Let his womb bear no children and remain closed to all till death, so long as he is bound to another… legacy, forget him."
The candles ignited, the wind howled, and lightning struck, followed by a resounding thunder.
"It is done." Mistress Diana smirked.
Kael smiled, watching the last drop of blood drop into the flame. "Now he'll know how it feels to be empty."