Chapter Thirty-three
tlas pulls me through the gaping ring of party guests as they jump outA of the way to let us pass. He doesn’t slow when we reach the doorway, dragging me up next to him before he circles my waist with his arm.
I say nothing while we wind through the endless hallways, and I try to keep up with his long, furious strides. I replay the events of this evening over and over in my head. The prince wasn’t my mark and yet Gabriel sent me to him, anyway. Why? Gabriel said the prince didn’t know who I was, and that I was to keep it that way, but was he trying to find some way to reveal it? And to what end? Maybe this was Gabriel’s plan to get rid of me? But then why tell me to stay quiet about where I came from?
My thoughts rush in a loop as our steps echo through the silent hallways.
Finally, we approach the massive set of doors emblazoned with the Sun King insignia. Two guards stand outside, their backs straight and their eyes
forward, as Atlas throws the door open and ushers me inside. He’s not hurting me, but he’s not being gentle, either.
“Atlas, I’m sorry,” I say, not sure who he’s angry with. He seemed furious that I’d been dancing with the Aurora Prince, but it’s hardly my fault that Gabriel lied. “I didn’t know.”
He finally lets go and starts pacing the room, his eyes on his feet and his hand rubbing his jaw before running it through his hair. “What did you talk about?” he asks, finally whirling on me. “What did you say to him?”
I open my mouth and shake my head. “Nothing. I was asking about his
ring.”
“His ring?”
“I thought I was supposed to convince him to give it to me, but then he said it was just a trinket he’d purchased and it meant nothing to him and…” I trail off as Atlas stares at me, blue flame burning in his eyes.
“That’s it?”
I nod mutely. “He hardly said a word. It was mostly me trying to convince him to dance so I could ask about the ring. I swear.” I don’t know what I’m swearing on or why he’s so concerned about what I said. “I didn’t tell him I was from Nostraza. Gabriel said I was to continue pretending I was from
Aphelion.”
A line forms between Atlas’s brows. “He did?”
“Yes.” I whisper it, my voice soft. Finally, the ire in his expression starts to drain away as his shoulders drop.
“You’re telling me the truth? You didn't reveal to him where you came
from?”
“I didn't…but what is this all about?”
Atlas’s demeanor shifts then, anger replaced by concern. The
transformation is so abrupt, I blink and take a step back. But he’s approaching me now, his large hands circling around my shoulders as he
peers into my face. “When I saw you dancing with him…I’m so sorry…I just lost my mind.”
He pulls me to him, pressing me against his chest and wrapping his arms around me in a tight embrace as he presses his lips to the top of my head.
“You’re mine,” he murmurs. “You’re going to be mine, and together, we’re going to be unstoppable.” His voice is distant, as if this is a story he’s recited
to himself many times.
I pull back and look up at him. “We are? Why are you so sure about this?”
His nod is earnest, his hands reaching up to cup my face, a thumb tracing the scar along my cheek. “Because I feel it, Lor. Surely you must feel this pull when we’re together?”
I nod slowly because I do feel something. I’m drawn to this Fae whenever he’s in the room. He’s a flower and I’m a bee searching for nectar. I’ve wondered before if it was him or just an effect of being Imperial Fae.
I think of when I danced with the prince. When our gazes met, there was a different kind of pull there. Not the same thing I feel around Atlas, but something wider and deeper. Like being tossed around in a hurricane versus
thrashing against a single wave. But that’s ludicrous. We danced for less than two minutes and most of the time he just stared at me. He barely said anything. He’s not Imperial Fae yet, so maybe it’s a Fae thing, but I’ve been around dozens and dozens of those in the past few weeks and have never felt anything similar.
“I feel it,” I say, because it’s not a lie, but I’m also not sure what it really means. Atlas smiles then, and that warmth I’ve become so used to resurfaces.
He blows out a breath of relief. “I’m sorry if I frightened you. I just…I can’t lose you.”
His voice is impassioned, and I cover his hands with mine and nod. “Two more weeks until the final round, and the Mirror will decide,” I say, more sure than ever that I have to win this.
“Right.” His brow furrows. “Two more weeks.” His gaze slides inward as
he seems to draw into himself.
“Atlas?”
“Nothing. Yes. Soon, nothing can stand between us, Lor. Nothing,” he repeats, as though to convince himself, and then draws me in close, his mouth brushing mine. Immediately, I feel the heat of his touch melt through my limbs. I’ve missed the way he’s held me, and the way being around him makes me feel like I’m floating. Like I’m in another life and another world where fairy tales are real.
His hand cups the back of my head and he tips it back, deepening the kiss with a moan. As his tongue sweeps into my mouth, gooseflesh breaks out over my body.
“I need you,” he says. “I need to taste you and touch you.” He kisses me again, this one so deep and frantic it leaves me gasping for air. His hands cup
my ass as he drives his hips against mine. “I want to fuck you until you can’t walk straight,” he growls into the curve of my throat before he bites my skin gently. My gasp is an unintelligible response when he presses the hard length of his cock into my stomach.
I’m not sure if this is a good idea, but I’m finding it hard to care as he
scoops me into his arms like a knight rescuing me from the evil witch’s clutches. I haven’t read many books in my life, but my favorites were always the romances with happy endings and handsome heroes, and it feels
impossible that this is my reality now. He drops his forehead to mine and whispers my name.
Then we’re moving through his grand apartment, down a wide hallway to a set of doors at the end. He shoulders one open and we enter a palatial bedroom. It’s massive, at least twice the size of the mess hall in Nostraza.
One wall is set with wide windows that overlook the moonlit sea. The biggest bed I’ve ever seen sits against another wall covered in golden sheets and pillows, as well as a canopy of layers and layers of more gold and yellow
silk. At the other end is a massive marble fireplace smoldering with embers.
That’s the entirety of my assessment before Atlas slams the door and places me on my feet, spinning me around and pressing my back to the wall, his mouth and his tongue already devouring me. It’s obvious this time he’s not going to stop me from touching him, and so I take the opportunity to enjoy it as I tear at the buttons on his golden jacket, wanting to feel those miles of rippling, golden flesh under my hands.
With a low sound in his throat, he helps me tug it off and then pulls his shirt over his head. I take in a deep breath as he’s bared before me; the lines and dips and curves of his glorious body are wondrous to behold. I run my hands over the swell of his shoulders and down the curve of his chest and
stomach as he lets out a groan.
Atlas captures my wrists and then my mouth with his, pressing me back to the wall, where he grinds his hips into mine. His hands slip up my back, where he starts to pull at the laces of my dress. Making short work of the ties, he tugs them loose and then pushes the bodice down to my hips. For a
moment, I hesitate, wondering if I should go through with this. I think I want this, but despite Atlas’s claims about wanting to be with me, a part of me still wonders if he’s just been telling me what I want to hear. He could be
spinning the same words for any of the other Tributes. He could be trying to use me. Maybe that doesn’t matter. After all, I’m using him too, because I
need to stand before the Sun Mirror.
His words feel real, and the way he kisses me now feels real, too. I’ve never been in love, so I don’t know what it feels like. I don’t think this is love, but there is infatuation and lust and passion. Right now, maybe that’s all I need.
“Lor,” he says, his voice rough. “Don’t stop. Please. I need you.” He
pushes my dress down, leaving me only in my underwear. His gaze sweeping over me, he eyes me like a predator and my blood heats, warmth pooling between my thighs.
His eyes grow wild and his breathing more labored as he leans in to kiss me again, his large hands sliding up the backs of my legs before lifting me and wrapping them around his waist. With a moan, he grinds his thick, hard length into my aching center.
“Atlas,” I say, barely able to get the strangled words out. “Maybe we should stop. You said we should wait until after the Trials.” His mouth is dragging over my skin, down my throat, and across my collarbone, and part of me is wondering why I’m trying to stop him.
Atlas lets out a frustrated breath, collapsing against me.
“You’re right,” he says, cupping my face in his hands. “I’m sorry. I was getting carried away.”
“Are you sure?” I ask with hesitation, understanding all too well the consequences of saying “no” to a male who doesn't know how to deal with
rejection.
“Yes, of course it’s okay.” His eyes soften. “I’m sorry about my behavior tonight. This isn’t who I am. It’s just so close to the end, and I want to claim
you as mine. I don’t want anyone or anything getting in our way.”
I let out the nervous breath I'm holding, sliding my arms around him and
peering up. “Thank you. And I’m yours…if the Sun Mirror chooses me.”
“It will,” he says, tightening his grip as though I might dissolve into a puff of ashes. “It will.”
His gaze meets mine, his eyes full of blue flame. His face is flushed, his hair wild, and he’s never looked more beautiful. If the mirror chooses me, then I might just become the luckiest female in all of Ouranos.
“Will you stay the night, though? Just sleep next to me.”
I nod eagerly. “I’d like that.”
He takes my hand and leads me to the bed, pulling back the covers before I slide in. He shucks off the rest of his clothing, leaving only his underwear before he gets in next to me, curling his warm body around mine.
His hands slide over my hip and up my back, pulling a delicious shiver up my spine.
“Lor,” he says, softly. “Lor, you’re incredible.” He drops his mouth to the curve of my throat, sucking on the skin before he moves to my mouth and then kisses me deeply. His forehead touching mine, he says, “I feel so many things when I’m around you.”
“Oh, Atlas,” I reply, feeling shy and unsure of myself in this moment. I’ve never had anyone speak to me this way. It feels big and overwhelming and I want all of this to be mine forever, so badly I can taste it.
Tonight, Atlas makes me believe I can win the Trials. He makes me think maybe I’m worth loving. That I can become the Sun Queen, get Tristan and
Willow out of Nostraza, and find some version of a happily ever after the
three of us were never destined for.
I want it all.
I want love and passion.
I want my revenge.
I want the magic and the power I was denied.
I still don’t know what the Sun Mirror will do when I face it, but I have to win so I can find out.
Atlas is still kissing me, pressing random nips to my shoulder and my cheek and my collarbone, his hands sliding up my sides and down my hips.
“You’re so beautiful,” he says over and over until we both fall asleep in an
exhausted tangle of limbs.
