Light Wielder (Fire & Metal, #2) — Chapter 25

Chapter 25

JO

I had hoped I was wrong, that he hadn’t been spying on me without my knowledge. But here he is. Appearing at the foot of my bed well after midnight. Collar of his shirt pulled open, hair messed, feet bare. It’s nearly the exact image of him from our time together on the boat that I’ve reminisced about. Without inhibitions or influence from the outside world.

His expression is tempered, but his voice holds the weight of every emotion coursing through my own body. “Jovie.”

It’s been years since I’ve heard the moniker outside my dreams, and it

sends chills down my spine.

Nobody calls me by that name. Ever.

But it was never only a name with him. It felt like more. Like a claim.

I don’t so much as blink, refusing to let on that the heat threatening to bloom across my face is due to anything other than the anger I’ve been harboring all day.

The light from the oil lamp beside my bed flickers. I drop the spare string of mangi stones next to it before lifting the teacup and taking a sip with forced casualness. It’s the perfect temperature. I take a moment to relish the steeped spices as I swallow. It’s a far cry from the bitter taste of the sleep tonic I’ve become accustomed to.

I set the cup back down before giving him my full attention. “How long have you been watching me?”

He tilts his head thoughtfully, gaze heavy as he holds my stare. “I think you already have an idea.”

The oath protects me from physical harm, but it seems emotional torture is fair game. All the dreams I’ve been desperate to escape, the ones I wake from with my heart pounding in my throat. Sometimes from fear, sometimes in pleasure, and all too real. Both equally as painful.

There’s no telling which dreams were possibly influenced by his presence or the workings of my own mind, but they started not long after I arrived in Maile. One in particular, however, stands out more than the others. The most recent one from my time at the border. When I thought I awoke to a Strou warrior, only to be convinced otherwise in my drowsy state of mind when Acker appeared. And, with a stunning realization that I … I begged for him to stay.

Humiliation burns through me, scorching my cheeks. While I expected the anger, I was not expecting the tears that sting at the corners of my eyes.

I jerk my gaze away from him as I move from the bed, trying to hide the emotion on my face as I tighten the cinch of my robe, willing the gathering moisture to dry as I face the doors leading to the terrace.

All of this time, I’ve accepted his hurtful actions as if they were fair payment in return for my own. Marrying Irina, relishing my misery on their wedding night, ordering the Strou to attack our border. Transgressions I believed that would finally equal my own and we could call it even. But this feels like the tipping point. The remorse I’ve been carrying for my actions in Kenta dissolves into nothing, and all it leaves behind is burning resentment.

I’m done longing for someone who only despises me.

I turn and find him leaning against the foot of my bed, hands in his pockets as he watches me. “I’ll have Drake escort you and Irina back to your ship in the morning, but you’re no longer welcome here.” I finger the gyve around my throat, realizing it’ll need more revisions. Something stronger to withstand Acker’s ability to somehow overcome them to bridge the gap in the Bond. “Invited or otherwise,” I clarify.

His gaze hesitates on where I toy with the string of mangi that disappears beneath the cut of my robe before returning to my eyes. “You became queen, so that makes your word law, does it?”

I cock a brow. “Last time I checked.”

He makes a noise in the back of his throat and it’s as if the vibration cuts straight through me. Pushing off the foot of the bed, he moves closer, steps

measured and precise. I hold my ground, refusing to give him the satisfaction of making me retreat, my head tipping to maintain direct eye contact.

“Then why’d you let me into your city?” he asks, voice low in the still night air. “You could have killed me on the wharf, sent me back to my ship.

You knew I would never ask for personal sanctuary. Unless you thought I came here for you.” His gaze dips to my mouth before flicking back up to my eyes. “Is that it? You were hoping I’d finally come for you?”

“I thought—” I swallow to soothe the rasp in my voice, letting my eyes convey my distaste. “You must truly be desperate.”

He’s unmoved by my change in demeanor. If anything, he seems to become more motivated to prove me wrong. “I can feel you, you know?”

He wets his lips, eyes lazy as they drip down the front of my body, as if he can see straight through the material of my robe. It’s a blatant and salacious look meant to knock me off-kilter. “I know when you’re lying.”

“Oh, now you can tell?”

“When it comes to your desire, Jovie…” He smirks, something dark and devious that makes me nervous. “There’s no denying the truth.”

Godsdamn him.

Inside I’m quaking. Being this near to him is borderline euphoric. His eyes feel like the weight of a thousand suns as they hold steady on mine.

The tether steadily urging us to get closer. I could touch him if I wanted to, reach out and skim my fingers over his jaw, his mouth. Kiss him if I wanted

to.

Which I don’t … His grin grows, snapping me from my torrid thoughts.

I close the little distance between us, nothing more than a finger’s width separating the two of us. “Or,” I say, “You feel what I want you to feel.”

“Really?” He reaches a hand up; the movement is slow as he tucks a stray hair behind my ear. “Like all those times you sucked my tongue into your mouth,” he purrs. “Or when you clung to me as I entered you.” There’s no teasing glint in his eyes, just need reflected back at me as his lips hover over mine. “Or those times you came on my cock—”

“You think I fucked you because I wanted to?” I shake my head, forcing a small smile playing on my lips. “I needed to accept the Matching Bond, or risk myself by denying it. I don’t want you. I never wanted you.”

He stills, dark eyes unwavering as he looks down at me. “And how well did that work out for you?” he asks, eyes on the stones around my neck.

I sneer at him. Mostly because I hate that he’s right. I thought accepting the Bond would mean I’d have control over my own mind and my body, but I’m still having to fight the pull of the tether every waking moment of every day. And apparently when I’m sleeping as well.

Seemingly satisfied by seeing his blow land, his expression shifts, and he looks entirely unbothered again in the blink of an eye. His shoulders lose their tension as he takes a step back. “Whatever you bargained for in exchange for providing aid to Roison’s side in this war, I’ll pay tenfold.”

I’m taken aback by the sudden shift in conversation but manage to paste on a placid expression of my own. “You can’t afford what I want.”

“Try me,” he says.

The challenge in his voice touches something inside of me. Something dangerous and indulgent, and by the way he’s fighting a smile, it was likely his intention.

A knock on my door cuts through the tension.

Acker’s expression shutters. “Expecting someone?”

Unease settles in my stomach as I slowly move around him toward the door. Acker spits my name as I pass, but I ignore him. Picking up the extra necklace I left on my bedside table, I slide the stones on top of the gyve.

Acker’s voice gets swallowed by their weight, and when I turn around, he’s gone.

I let out a breath, but there’s no relief to be found.

The knock comes again. I add one more extra layer of mangi before I walk over to open my bedroom door, but I’m surprised by who is standing

on the other side.

“I sent for Drake,” I say, confused.

Fredrich nods, face solemn. “I know.”

I lean around him to check the hallway, ensuring it’s empty, that Beau’s door is closed, before motioning him in. “Is everything okay? Drake? The armada?”

“Yes, everything is fine,” Fredrich says, eyes roaming around the room once, efficient as ever, before coming back to me. “I just couldn’t let a man walk blindly to his death.”

Death? “You think I summoned Drake to my bedchambers to kill him?”

I ask, dumbfounded.

“What you were seeking from him would unequivocally sign his death warrant.”

Realization dawns, my cheeks burning as I hold Fredrick’s gaze. “Who

told you?”

“Sailors talk, Jovinnia.”

Crossing my arms over my chest, I’m immediately on the defensive.

“It’s not as if my Match would have ever known I’d taken another to bed, if that’s your concern.”

Fredrich’s mouth thins, his expression conveying exactly how dense he thinks I’m being. Frustration drives me to cuss as I stalk away from him, back toward my bed. The tears are back with a vengeance. I just want these … these … overwhelming emotions to end. I keep waiting to reach the bottom of the well, for my heartache and anger and frustration to run dry, but my conversation with Acker has solidified the truth—it won’t end until I make it end.

I’m done hating myself for something I can’t change, for a man who doesn’t love me.

Pushing past my embarrassment, I untie my robe, letting the material slip down my shoulders and to the ground as I turn to face Fredrich. His eyes dip to my body only briefly, but the glance is intense enough to heat straight through the sheer slip I’m wearing.

He reaches for the sword strapped to his waist. “Are you sure?” he asks

in responds to my unvoiced words.

Not in the least.

“Yes.”

His eyes don’t shift from mine as he sets his weapon on my desk. “As a service?” he clarifies, undoing the top button of his shirt.

I take a second to gather my thoughts. “As my friend, but nothing more.”

His expression doesn’t change as he begins rolling one shirt sleeve up his forearm, and then the other. “Okay.”

The single word makes my heart skip a beat. “The bed?” I’m surprised by how steady my voice sounds.

He looks at my empty desk chair and shrugs. “Here’s fine.”

I’m wholly unprepared for his decision, and even less so when he grabs me by my hips and spins me, pushing me onto the cushioned seat. He sinks to his knees before me, and when he places his hands on my legs, my skin heats instantly.

“Tell me to stop and I will,” he says, rough palms trailing up the length of my thighs, pushing the hem of my slip upwards.

When his fingertips reach the crease where my legs part, I stop him with a hand over his. “You’re under no obligation to do this because I’m your queen.”

A grin I’ve become familiar with eases some of my doubts. “Trust me,” he says, right before he grabs me by the back of my knees and pulls me to the edge of the seat. “This is by no means a hardship on my part.”

He tugs at my panties and I lift my hips to help him remove them. The sudden escalation of events has my head spinning and I cling to the

reminder this is what I want.

No. This is what I need.

He looks up at me as he spreads my legs, exposing me to him. I feel the heat of his breath against the inside of my thigh as he dips his face to place a gentle kiss to the skin. Finally, his gaze falls to the task before him and even still I struggle to dispel my doubts. The urge to retreat plagues me, to tell him I changed my mind, but I don’t. I won’t.

I realize now how pathetic I’ve been, and the only thing I haven’t tried to make the hurt stop is doing what Messer said—to move on with someone

else.

I need the hurt to end.

My breaths come in short bursts, anticipation making my body tremble.

It works in my favor, making me appear eager about the way Fredrich’s tongue and teeth scrape along my skin. It’s meant to be enticing, teasing, but I’m somehow already impatient to get this over with. For his mouth to be on me properly, so I can move on with my life.

Widening my legs even further, he reaches the apex of my thighs and wastes zero time before licking his tongue over my center in a long, sweeping motion that makes all of my thoughts stutter to a complete stop.

The teasing is over. His mouth moves over me in a devouring kiss. This is exactly what I needed, because suddenly there are no thoughts or emotions

or desire making me want to escape my own skin. There’s simply … nothing.

He makes his way higher and I have to grip the edge of the chair’s arm cushions when he sucks firmly on my bundle of nerves. A shocked burst of sound escapes my parted lips at the jolt of intense pleasure. He’s clearly pleased by my reaction, but he eases off a little, his mouth curving into a smile—right before his tongue plunges inside me, and I’m stunned by how much I think I like it.

Then the worst thing imaginable happens.

Acker appears.

I pitch forward with a shocked gasp, which Fredrich takes it as positive feedback, delving in deeper, and I grab him by the hair in a bid to halt his movements. Instead, all it does is draw a low groan from his throat, which I feel vibrate against the most sensitive part of me.

For a heartbeat, Acker is frozen in place.

I say Fredrich’s name in warning, but it comes out breathier than I intend, and it does nothing to stop him. Acker’s expression falters a moment before a wave of outrage floods his features. His figure flickers as he surges forward, the stones still around my neck doing their best to keep him out, but they’re not enough in the face of his wrath.

This time, my warning is sharp. “Fredrich!”

But I’m too late. Acker slams into Fredrich’s ever-present shield, his outrage palpable as he yells out his anger. There are no coherent words, only searing hatred as he slams a fist against the invisible barrier again, teeth bared. I’m momentarily stunned by the raw emotion shining in his eyes.

Looking up from between my legs, Fredrich’s pupils narrow as he angles his head in the direction of the unseen impact. I scream in alarm as the sword Fredrich had discarded on the desk flies through the air toward us. Fredrich doesn’t flinch as the sword snaps, the sound of ringing metal reverberating against the air around us.

A cocky smirk stretches across his glistening mouth as he returns his eyes to me. “You didn’t say stop.”

Before I’m able to comprehend the meaning of his words, he’s thrown my legs over the crook of elbows and dives back in. I cry out, fingertips

scraping against the material of the chair. My eyes are locked on Acker’s as the feel of Fredrich’s mouth and tongue make me squirm and oh my gods … I arch as one of Fredrich’s fingers slips deep inside me.

Acker’s chest is heaving with the force of his breaths, eyes wild as he watches me suppress a silent cry. Fredrich introduces a second finger and it’s too much. All of this is too much. I don’t know how I got here or how Acker’s able to push past the power of the mangi stones, but when Fredrich returns to suck exactly where I need it at the same time, he curls his fingers … I whimper.

“Is this repayment for my wedding night?” Acker’s upper lip is curled in disdain, but it isn’t very convincing, not with the way his eyes are glued to the scene before him. “An attempt to hurt me like I hurt you?”

I shake my head from side to side.

He’s not even supposed to be here.

Closing my eyes, I bite my lip in an effort to hold back the sounds threatening to spill from me due to the buildup of pleasure, but it’s becoming more and more difficult to ignore the way Fredrich is determined

to end me.

“Look at me.”

Acker’s voice comes from closer than I expect, and my eyes shoot open, landing on a gaze as dark as night. He’s leaning over the back of the chair, and unless I’m mistaken in my lust-fueled haze, his expression looks almost wounded as he takes me in more closely. Everything about the way he’s looking at me makes my heart squeeze painfully in my chest. Not a look of disdain or resentment, but how he looked at me when we were on the boat, just the two of us: with restraint and … and maybe even a little admiration.

Like he can’t help but appreciate the sight of me in the throes of pleasure regardless of where it’s coming from.

His voice is rough when he says, “Tell him to make you come.” My eyes widen at his words, but also from the way he wraps his hand around the column of my throat and angles my head back toward him. “Tell him,” he growls, looming over me.

My words tumble out between breaths. “Make me come.”

Fredrich hums as he continues to suck at the bundle of nerves and pump his fingers in and out. A moan slips from my mouth.

“A footman obeying his queen,” Acker drawls. Wetting his lips, he leans closer, eyes hazy as he fights against the mangi stones. “You like knowing you have him at your bidding.” His breathing nearly matches mine as his eyes fall to my open mouth. “At your service,” he says, before swiping his tongue over my parted lips.

My eyes fall closed as I savor the taste of him.

Acker jerks back from my mouth, tightening the hold he has on my neck. “Look at me,” he orders again.

I obey, my gaze landing on his dilated pupils, his eyes nearly black with need. He opens his mouth, telling me without words what he wants, and I open my own so he can lavish his tongue over mine. The memory I’ve held of what it’s like to kiss him has done the reality of it little justice. It’s all power and struggle and dominating in every way possible. I cave to it, letting Acker devour me as my hips buck, chasing pleasure against Fredrich.

There’s nothing I can do but submit to the moment.

Releasing Fredrich’s hair, I cup the back of Acker’s neck, pulling his face lower. He understands, mouth descending to my exposed neck and shoulder. It hurts, his teeth, as they scrape along my skin. Biting, tasting, punishing. The blood oath won’t allow him to truly hurt me without dire consequences, but I need him to know my surrender is my choice and not his, and I dig my nails into the meat of his neck in warning.

I’m desperate as I race up the last stretch of pleasure to the peak, squeezing my eyes shut. There’s a chorus of rattling and I have the vague sense that every mote of metal in my bedchamber is in danger from Acker’s

failing composure.

“Look at me.”

The words are a demand. The powerful echo of an order, bordering on intrusive. But still, I obey. I’d do just about anything right now as long as it brought me to this moment. Blurry in my vision, Acker’s dark eyes watch me as I come apart, my breath leaving me in a punch of ecstasy. I pull his mouth back to mine, wanting to disappear within him in this singular, perfect moment.

I never want it to end, but the high does eventually ebb into a simmering afterglow I’m not yet ready to face. And just as I think I’m fully spent, emotionally and physically, Acker removes his mouth from mine … and there isn’t even a hint of that soft haze of adoration in his gaze.

He brushes his thumb over the apple of my cheek, eyes hardening further with each swipe. “So, you do still blush after all.” Satisfied, he lets me go. “That was your one and only concession, Jovie. Don’t let another man touch you again.”