CHAPTER 44
ORION TOWERED OVER THE SCENE—three bodies laid out in his drawing room, two loved ones exhausted from earlier heart magic, and one problem in the shape of Briony Rosewood.
Serena came to her feet, reaching for her albatross, who’d come back with Orion. The bird landed on her arm and nuzzled her cheek.
“It’s almost done,” Serena said.
Orion looked between Reighven and Cohle. “Tell me.”
“Cohle is dead.” Serena’s voice was tired but firm.
Orion lifted a brow, his mind seeming to run through several scenarios at once.
“So, he attempted to abscond with Miss Rosewood, I presume,” Orion said, and Briony was shocked how quickly he chose the same path as Serena.
“He tortured Toven,” Serena said. “And I killed him.”
Orion still stared down at Cohle’s body as he nodded slowly.
Briony looked up at Toven. He was swaying on his feet, clearly needing rest. He’d been using heart magic to subdue Reighven and the nurse, depleting himself further.
“And Reighven?” Orion asked, turning his attention to the other man.
“He was knocked out early on,” Serena said.
“And the nurse?”
“She saw it all, and then was knocked out.”
Orion lowered himself next to Reighven. “You should have waited for me. If she recognizes your needle—”
“It was Briony,” Serena said. “I guided her.”
Orion closed his eyes in exasperation and then opened them on Briony.
His mouth was set in a grim line.
“Well then, Miss Rosewood,” Orion said silkily. “Show me your work.”
Like he was one of the tutors at school.
Briony swallowed, and then nodded to Toven to bring Reighven back up from unconsciousness.
Sliding back inside Reighven’s mind was even less appealing the second time. She stumbled through several terrible images and memories she didn’t wish to see before Orion firmly guided her to that morning—much less gently than Serena had.
Orion stood at her shoulder as they watched the scene. He made her go over every second, positioning them in different places in the room. His technique wasn’t with a thread but with a pen, rewriting instead of sewing over. Where Serena was a needle sliding past minuscule holes in fabric, Orion was a knife sliding through butter, meeting no resistance.
When he pulled them out, he stared at Briony with displeasure.
“Sloppy, but serviceable. Take her upstairs, Toven.”
Briony narrowed her eyes at him. Her bookshelves shook with the first emotion that threatened to break her walls—irritation.
“We’ll need a dead body, too,” she said. “I let the second nurse go.”
She stood and turned her back on Orion Hearst, walking away before he could say another word to her that wasn’t Thank you.
* * *
A pair of footsteps followed her up the stairs.
She didn’t say a word to him all the way up to her room. When he followed her inside, she turned to face him.
Toven quietly shut the door behind him, his eyes carefully on her the entire time.
“I’m fine,” she said.
He slid his hands into his pockets and rocked back on his heels. He watched her, waiting for something.
“I won’t release my mind barriers until after Mallow has come and gone, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
There would be too much too suddenly. It could take too long to build up her mental defenses again, and there was no telling how long they had until Mallow arrived.
“I’m worried about the opposite, actually,” Toven said. She stared at him blankly. “You should let go. You’re holding back too much. Maintaining this level of barrier for this level of circumstances won’t help you in the long run.”
He spoke as if he knew. He spoke as if he knew this level of barrier intimately.
“How—” She stuttered. “How long have you been practicing mind barriers?” she asked.
His face was impassive as he said, “A long time.”
She nodded slowly. It explained so much that she’d suspected.
“And your parents?” she said. “All three of the Hearsts are talented mind magicians?”
He betrayed nothing. He moved forward toward her. “You need to
release, rest, and replenish.”
“Mallow could be here any moment—”
“You’ve erected shields in stressful circumstances before. You can do it again.” He stood before her. “You need to deal with Cohle, so that he can live in the library of your mind undisturbed.”
The book named Cohle slid forward inside her mind. She swallowed thickly. “I don’t want to.”
“Briony,” he whispered, and she swayed toward him like the tide. “Your heart was ripped today. Let your mind heal it.”
A tremor whispered across her skin. His eyes were unguarded on her, and
she forced herself to meet them.
There was a body in the grass.
And her hand was in a fist.
The book named Cohle dropped to the floor, and a wind shushed the pages open.
The cold emptiness rushed up, the howl of death surrounded her, and the piece of her heart that had ripped open cawed like a moon-black raven.
Her lips parted, and the final sigh of innocence slithered out of her.
He blurred in her vision.
“I killed someone,” she said, voice trembling in a way she hadn’t let it in hours.
Toven nodded. “You took a life. It was your first?”
Her chest shook, and she slapped a palm over her mouth. “What did I do?” Her eyes were wide and bright and full of unshed tears.
He stepped forward and placed his hands on her arms. “You did what was necessary to protect yourself.”
She leaned into his weight, and at last her tears spilled over, streaming down her cheeks. “To protect you.” Her throat clicked as she hurried to add, “Your mother. All of us.”
There was a body in the grass and her hand was in a fist.
She had squeezed the life out of him with his back turned. He hadn’t seen her coming.
Briony gasped soundlessly on a sob, trying to draw air into her lungs, but failing.
She was in Toven’s arms, her forehead pressed against his collar. His shirt was wet with her grief.
“My heart will never be the same,” she whispered, voice reedy.
“You did what was necessary,” he rumbled, words she felt as much as heard. “You did what I didn’t have the power to do.”
She let his voice wash over her. She remembered that day in the Trow dungeon—how she had Reighven’s heart in her palm for one moment. She could have finished him then and maybe escaped with Katrina. She hadn’t had the strength that day, but today was different, and she couldn’t help but think that having Toven’s life in the balance was the difference.
Her legs gave out as her heart beat a rhythm over and over—killer, killer,
killer.
Toven lifted her in his arms, and as she sobbed and gulped for air, she wished she wasn’t so weak about this. She wished she had never let her emotions rise past her throat and into her mind. She wished he wasn’t seeing her like this.
He laid her on her bed, and she curled into herself, bawling in pain.
The missing piece of her heart ached.
And it wasn’t just the act of killing Cohle.
It was the oil on her skin from Reighven’s mind, his memories of her naked body.
It was the nameless nurse who she’d given the chance she couldn’t have —the way her heart needed to hope that he could find Sammy.
It was Phoebe—knowing that she’d lost a child she couldn’t have wanted and her chance at one she did, all in the same day.
It was Cordelia, husked. The note about the dragon that Briony wished had been from her, so that she knew Cordelia was still in there, still fighting.
And it was Rory. Rory whom she hadn’t said goodbye to because she was so confident in a prophecy that was nothing but nursery rhymes. Rory who marched into battle over and over because Briony knew it was right. She knew he was the one. And he believed her, the fool.
Briony’s throat was raw, and she realized she’d been howling through the pain inside her heart. Her face was hot with tears and her muscles were sore
with shaking.
And two arms were still around her.
She sucked in a shaking breath as she came back into her body. Toven was wrapped around her, holding her back against his chest. His thighs were flush with the backs of hers, and she could finally recognize the breath on her neck, disturbing her hair.
Briony’s eyes dropped, and she found a muscular hand wrapped around her fist, the black gem ring winking at her.
As her grief and panic and sorrow ebbed away with each shaky breath, she grounded herself with the feeling of his chest pressed to her back. His
heartbeat thumped against her spine, slow and steady. She breathed in deeply, finding comfort in the press of her ribs into his.
As her tears dried up and her breathing returned to normal, she waited for him to pull away—for him to excuse himself—for his duty to be complete.
It didn’t come.
Briony watched the sun inch down the sky and traced the veins in Toven’s hands with her eyes.
If he wasn’t worried about what could be happening downstairs, then she wasn’t, either. Mallow herself could burst into the room, her dragon could breathe fire on all of Hearst Hall, and Briony would still hold on to this moment for a second longer.
Quietly, half hoping he was sleeping, she said, “Did it feel like this after your first kill?”
For a moment, she wondered if he wouldn’t respond, but then his voice rumbled into her chest, his air puffing across her neck. “Yes.”
She used to hold him in a separate box in her heart after she’d seen him kill that Eversun family. He was a murderer, and what business did he have inside her chest, where her yearning and care resided. She belonged in that same box now.
“Did someone hold you like this when your heart ripped?” she asked.
Her pulse seemed hang on a cliff, waiting.
“Someone helped, yes.” His voice was far away.
A pang of jealousy flared hot in her. She wished she could have been that person for him.
She shifted, turning in his embrace, and his arms readjusted around her back as her knees tangled with his.
His eyes were a soft gray. She wanted to run her fingers over his skin, through his hair, under his shirt. She held her fists against her chest, keeping her hands to herself, but she couldn’t help herself. She reached up and brushed the fine hairs that had fallen over his eyes. She ran her fingers down his cheekbone, carving the path to his jaw.
“Why did you buy me, Toven?” she whispered against him.
His eyes flickered between hers. “I can’t answer that.”
She blinked at him, and though he was erecting a boundary, she didn’t feel him pulling away. It was as if he was inching closer, his eyes softening, his mind opening.
She feathered her fingers over his lips, and she moved forward.
Toven’s head shifted back, just slightly out of reach. His eyes closed, and his brows furrowed.
Briony ran her fingers over his chin. “Ah yes,” she whispered. “Your No Kissing Rule.”
His eyes fluttered open, and one eyebrow lifted. “I don’t have a No Kissing Rule.”
The corners of her mouth curved upward. She trailed her fingers down his throat, and he swallowed.
“A No Kissing Me Rule, then,” she teased.
His lips parted, and his tongue was quick to wet them.
“Exactly,” he breathed.
Her eyes flicked back up to his, and then he was kissing her.
Briony’s breath caught. He’d stolen it, locked it away inside his chest.
Her mouth grew soft against his, and her eyelashes fluttered closed.
He moved his lips luxuriously, slowly, so gently that Briony thought he might pull away at any second, but he just kept kissing her.
She gulped in air against his lips and curled her fist around his collar. One of his hands splayed across her back, pulling her closer until her breasts pushed against his warm chest, but still his mouth was soft and unhurried.
Her heart pounded so fast, pulsing life and want into every inch of her body. She wanted his hands on her skin. She wanted his tongue. She wanted her hips against his.
But Toven Hearst took his time. She’d seen him kiss Larissa Gains plenty of times. She’d seen his hands rove over her.
She’d never seen him like this. She’d never felt anything like this.
When his lips finally parted, and she felt the smooth glide of his tongue, a moan poured from the back of her throat. She clenched her thighs, and she brought her hips closer to him.
That was when Toven finally rolled her onto her back, slotting his body
between her open legs.
Her arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer, and her right knee moved up to his waist.
His lips were still slow and languid, like she was something to handle with care. But as his tongue brushed against hers, and as she learned to open her mouth the way he wanted her to, she didn’t want to be touched like glass.
She wanted the weight of him. She wanted his sweat. She wanted him groaning for her.
He shifted and pushed his hips against hers. She could feel everything.
Briony’s mouth fell open in a sigh, her eyes fluttering in pleasure.
“Toven, please,” she murmured into his mouth.
His lips were firm on hers as the kiss started again. She arched against him, trying to feel more of him.
As he kissed her more deeply, his tongue hotter, his lips more direct, Briony slid her fingers around his neck to the place where his fine hair ended at the base of his skull. Her fingers drifted in soft movements, finding a raised scar where she’d sewn his skin back together all those years ago.
His chest rumbled—finally—a moan pouring into her mouth. His hips snapped forward, pinning her into the mattress, and his hand grabbed for her other leg, tucking her knee up to his waist until her hips cradled his.
She gasped at the feeling of him pressing against her. Her eyes flew open as his hips rolled over and over. She could feel him right where she needed him. He was unspeakably hard against her softness, and his mouth attached to her jaw, her neck, her pulse, as he groaned into her skin. She kept running her fingers through his hair softly, and his pace became frenzied.
She memorized every gasp, every moan, every sigh. She prayed he was leaving marks on her as his mouth sucked.
It felt decadent. Indulgent. There was an ocean inside of her, the waves gathering.
And then he shifted his hips just a bit lower, and through all their fabric, Briony felt his cock press against her center— Her breath caught, and her mind went white. She whimpered, feeling closer to something than she’d ever felt before.
He lifted his lips to the shell of her ear, and as he rocked against her again,
he moaned her name. “Briony.”
Her eyes rolled back in bliss.
It sounded exactly like it had before. Inside his mind. In the fabricated fantasy where she’d put her mouth on him.
If she could hear one sound for the rest of her life, she wanted it to be Toven Hearst moaning her name.
A knock rapped on her door, shocking her system.
They froze. The pleasure drained rapidly from her body.
Toven’s gaze was black as he pulled back to look down at her. His cheeks pink, his hair falling forward in a mess, and his lips red from her kisses. He sprang back, and Briony felt the absence of his body like a fire doused.
She bit her lip, wishing the knock had come either two minutes earlier or twenty minutes later.
She sat up and watched as Toven pushed a hand through his hair, adjusted his trousers, and breathed deep.
Like a reptilian blink—he was composed again. His shields were up.
When he answered the door, Serena’s voice whispered, “How is she?”
“Better.”
Briony pulled herself off the bed and quickly tugged at the bedsheets to straighten them.
“Reighven and the nurse were sent off. Your father’s hawk has returned from Mallow. She will be here after nightfall.”
Cold ice trailed down Briony’s spine. She glanced out the window. The sun would set in a few hours. At least she had time to build her barriers again.
“And is everything going smoothly?” Toven asked.
“To the best of our knowledge,” Serena said. “We won’t know for sure until she’s here. Your father would like to see you.”
Toven nodded. He glanced at Briony once, and she found those familiar cold eyes again, as if he hadn’t just been cradled between her hips or inside
her mouth.
He left, leaving the door open.
Briony took a deep breath. “Come in, Serena.”
Serena moved through the door and closed it behind her, folding her hands in front of her. Briony stepped away from the bed, taking the memories of Toven’s hands and tongue and lips and closed them away in a book as she faced his mother.
“Thank you for what you did today,” Briony said.
Serena tilted her head. “I was about to say the same.” She glanced down.
“You’ve had a very hard twenty-four hours, and I know that taking a life twists your heart, but I want you to know that you have never been more brave to me than now.”
Briony nodded her head, forcing herself to believe it. “Please know that I wasn’t hiding my ability to bear children from you.”
“I understand. It wasn’t my business to know,” she said simply.
Briony steeled herself and broached the topic on her mind.
“You said Mallow searches your mind often. Why?”
Serena lifted her chin and gazed past Briony’s shoulder. She thought the woman might not answer her until Serena spoke.
“I’ve been gifted three visions in my life, each very difficult to untangle,” she said. Briony blinked at her. “I used to report my dreams weekly, but she has become suspicious of everyone around her and even doubts that I understand my own subconscious. Now I report daily to Mallow for inspection of my mind.”
Briony’s brows drew together as she struggled to understand.
“You’re a seer,” Briony said.
“It’s a generational trait in my family. It appears every hundred years or so.”
The gift of visions was rarer and rarer these days. The only seers Briony knew of were from over half a millennium ago, the ones who had foreseen the heir twice over. Most seers wouldn’t flaunt their gift. It was too easy to become a target.
Briony shifted on her feet, thinking. “Why does Mallow even know about it?” she asked.
Serena looked at Briony. “I saw her coming,” she said simply. “I saw her on the Seat. And Orion and I acted quickly to become...favored.”
Briony remembered how the Hearsts had been the ones to introduce Mallow into society the first time Briony had met her.
“You’ll forgive me if I’ve been absent. Cold,” Serena said with a rare smile. “Until you’d begun learning mind barriers, I couldn’t risk much conversation with you. And there is already so much I cut out and set aside in my own memories.”
Briony tried to imagine Mallow in her mind every day, digging into dreams of her subconscious that she had no control over.
“There is a meditation chamber downstairs,” Briony said. “It’s yours?”
Serena nodded once. “As you progress with mind barriers, you are welcome to it.”
Briony wanted to ask Serena about her visions. She wanted to know the future so badly. She wanted to know the things that Serena had seen that she’d given over to Mallow. But she also knew that it wasn’t hers to know.
Most seers lived in isolation to avoid these types of conversations with friends and family.
“I won’t ask you about your dreams, but when you stopped them today...”
Briony paused and rephrased, finding the words that had echoed in her mind since she’d let the nurse go. “I have reason to believe that Mallow thinks the Heir Twice Over could still exist. When you saved the Rosewood line today...” She sighed, diving in. “Do you have reason to believe your son will one day father that heir?”
Serena’s brows lifted clear off her head. “Oh. Oh, I see.” Her thumb tapped against her opposite wrist. “No. My intention today was only to give you a choice in your future.”
Briony felt the weight of those words cascading down on her. “You’re a seer,” Briony said with a small smile. “You speak as if all futures are possible, when you already know certain outcomes.”
Serena nodded. “I have not yet seen the future that I most wish for, but I am hopeful. I think a world where we both have choice again is possible.”
Briony swallowed around a lump in her throat. Her heart beat fast, and with the knowledge that Serena Hearst was under this roof with her, she felt suddenly less alone.
Serena inclined her head in goodbye. “Take care, Briony. I’m sorry for giving you another conversation to tuck away as you prepare your mind.”
She excused herself, and Briony was alone again.
