The Spoils of Allsveil: Dark Heart Heroes #2 Page 8

  I leaned over my tower’s windowsill and watched the builders reconstruct the broken wall. I’d thought stone couldn’t be repaired, but Allsveil and Dreshall masons, working together, repaired every crack and replaced every toppled brick. The feat gave me hope that someday, I could forgive my husband, understand that Darrin was only protecting his father during the battle. My husband was fighting for the one he loved at the time. Darrin succeeded in safeguarding his father, if I were him, I wouldn’t be ashamed of the fact either.

  A soft knock at my door accompanied my doorman’s voice. “Lady Alexia, Prince Goththor arrives.”

  A thousand butterflies floated in my stomach. My goal for tact might be too soon. Even with my change of heart, what was I going to say? “Enter.” My voice shook.

  The door opened and a heavy dress boot stepped into my line of sight. Oh, by the seven layers of hell. Darrin had come in his formals and I was not up to par. I straightened and hoped my dignity would mask my casual dress. Cautiously, like a tiger expecting an ambush, Darrin stepped all the way into my room. I’d called for Darrin and he’d come. Apparently, ready for battle. I shouldn’t have expected less, but I was still confused after my failed murder attempt a month ago. Standing to attention in the middle of the room, he obviously wasn’t going to start a conversation.

  Taken aback at the handsome sight, I gaped. He was in full commander regalia. His throat was hidden by the stiff lapels of a high waistcoat, white shirt and pants underneath. I saw how devastatingly handsome he was. If he wasn’t looking at me with cold, hard eyes, I might have swooned. His stare was unyielding but gave no open hostility, an improvement from dead and soulless.

  He assessed me as a warrior, narrowing his eyes looking me up and down checking for weapons, trying to decide what scheme or trap I concocted this time. I’d become a threat to him. Someone he couldn’t trust, and rightly so. My heart pounded, the room now seemed too warm. Living a life surrounded by love, I could not hold that much hate inside. This wrong between us must become right. “You didn’t tell your father.” Surely if he had, I’d have my face torn off and my head separated from my neck by now. Proof there was still a chance for us.

  Darrin drove an icy stare into my eyes and waited long heartbeats before replying. “No. I told your mother.”

  I grew lightheaded and the room started to spin. I leaned back and let the wall take my weight. Darrin shifted, as if to catch me, but remembered himself and remained where he was. A sour taste in my mouth and a heavy dose of reality rushed through me. He’d gone to Mother after he’d left me that night. My face burned. He shouldn’t be going to her.

  “And what did Mother say?” I pasted a smile on my face to guard against the pain in my chest. He stared at me a good long heart-shattering time.

  “That if you couldn’t kill me, then you knew that you were wrong for trying.”

  She was right. My heart knew killing Darrin was not the answer, that it would devastate my mother, and blemish a surname that meant love of life.

  Mother had a way of inspiring people to be better than they were. My eyes pleaded with him to be amiable. I found no solace. I stumbled over words hoping they would be some sort of reconciliation. But, there was no easy out for me. Spying the chess set my father gave me I moved toward it. Darrin stiffened and before I got within arm’s reach of him I turned and went around him to my set.

  “Do you play?” I grabbed the tower and fondled the marble piece.

  I heard a scoff behind me. “Every night. It’s what I did instead of whoring during a campaign.”

  I turned to him. “This was a set Father gave me for my thirteenth birthday.”

  His eyes darkened as he looked at the piece I held out to him. He left my hand in the air and inspected the tower with suspicion. I pulled it back, peeled away the cork bottom, and revealed the hole dug out from inside. “See. Hollow. Perfect for vials.”

  “Ahhh.” Darrin smirked. “I’d wondered how you’d gotten the poison.”

  I blushed. “Since you play, you might be good, but not as good as me.”

  That earned me a raised brow. “You sound confident.”

  “I’ve been playing against Paul, and he claims he’s good,” I said.

  “Paul has more important things to do than play chess with you.” Darrin did not sound pleased.

  “Well, then, join me.” I sat down at my chair.

  My father called his guard the Black Knights for all the sour deeds they undertook in the name of justice. A brutal lot. They were the ones who didn’t mind throwing tradition aside and taught a princess swordplay. The Black Knights also taught me underhanded ruthlessness. They were the men who taught me that real sword fighting wasn’t fair. Something I’d forgotten since the battle of the Eagle and Horse. My fingers molested the black knight and I picked up the piece representing the means justifying the end.

  Darrin shifted. “I’m very busy—“

  “Please,” I closed my eyes. “I need you to sit and touch the things I love, so that maybe someday, that love will extend to you, if you handle them enough.” My sloppy explanation intrigued him enough to sit.

  The man that could turn and shattered a wineglass thrown at the back of his head remained at the ready. But a sliver of the old Darrin, the smiling Darrin, came back. Weary hope filled his eyes. “I’ll do it to save Paul the agony of pretending to let you win. But I won’t be as forgiving.”

  Sighing in relief, I opened my eyes and meet his playful teasing. “Are you sure you don’t want to tell me you’ll go easy on me to save face when you lose?”

  Darrin’s cheeks reddened. He looked thoroughly angry. “Let’s make it interesting then.”

  “By all means.”

  “Each time a player loses a piece, they take off piece of clothing.”

  My smile broke the tension the rest of my body held. “Only if the one gaining the piece chooses which article of clothing comes off.”

  “Done.” That smile and those eyes lit up and had me curious as to what I’d gotten into.

  Out of habit I removed the cork under the black knight piece and peeked. There was a scrap of paper inside. Fishing the tiny scroll out, I unrolled it.

  “What does it say?” Darrin watched me with those hooded eyes.

  The paper curled back up as I handed the message to him. “I’ve no idea what it means.”

  Darrin read the writing aloud. “Four King Fieron.”

  His eyes pinned me to my chair. “Is this code or a misspelling?”

  My eyes were wide. “I don’t even know who it’s from.”

  He scowled.

  “It can’t be from the old king’s guard,” I said. “I watched them all die.”

  “Still—very curious.”

  “Curious that you’re trying to evade playing chess with me.”

  A small grin, a true one, appeared. “We’ll set this aside for now. Make your move.”

  I did. He’d learn that I was not some high-born, privileged princess that thought everyone had to lay their noses to the ground and let me have my way. Well, that wasn’t entirely fair. High-born, yes. Privileged, in some cases. But cuts and bruises were part of my upbringing and I was more a servant to my people than a noble who socialized in the highest circles.

  Darrin moved and I set up to block him. Then he took my pawn, a move that left his bishop wide open. “You’re much worse a player than Paul,” I said. “Don’t you know I’ll take your bishop next? At this rate you’ll be in checkmate in five rounds.”

  “I’m counting on it.” He leaned forward. “Take off your hair comb.”

  He held his hand out. I slipped the stick free and handed it to him. He stared at me with his hand still in the air.

  I took his bishop and said, “Take off your boots.”

  Darrin settled back. “That’s two items.”

  “Fine. One boot then.”

  The old Darrin, the one with the bright smile that consumed his entire face, slowly returned. His next move was j
ust as stupid as the other, but he took another piece. “Off with the surcoat.”

  Slipping my arms through the holes I handed it to him. “You’re not playing to win, are you?”

  Relieving me of my outerwear, Darrin laughed. “Depends on what you mean by ‘win.’”

  I pressed my hand against my chest. “Oh.”

  He was trying to undress me—us, and I was falling into his trap. His devil’s grin confirmed it. Sitting primly upon my seat, I changed my tactics. If that was his game, I’d meet him every step of the way. Choosing carefully, I moved and took his knight, making sure he couldn’t claim any of my pieces. “Your other boot.”

  Darrin pulled his heavy dress boot off with a flourish. “What are you smiling about?”

  Pointing to his toes I said, “You’re barefoot. No socks?”

  “You find that funny?” He looked at the board and moved a pawn.

  “Why yes, I do.” I played into what he thought would trap me and took another game-crippling piece. “Coat please.”

  He handed it to me and it felt as if we’d been helping each other out of our clothes for years.

  “You’re very good at this,” he said, after I’d taken his waistcoat, baldric, sword, and belt. I still had on my dress, belt, and shoes. I’d only lost my underthings and a hairpin.

  I swiped his other knight off the board. “Tunic.”

  Not bothering to get up, Darrin pulled his shirt over his head and there before my eyes was a half-naked man—a muscular, pale, gorgeous man sitting in nothing but pants. The muscles of his shoulder bunched when he leaned forward and set his garment on the pile next to my chair. I had no idea muscles were corded. Relaxed but aware, I flipped my hair behind me and Darrin tracked the motion with a hunter’s eye. It made me wonder if I was still playing into his hands. If I could gain the king piece, I could end this madness. But I wasn’t sure if I wanted to.

  “I like how you squirm in your chair.” Darrin lounged without any compunction about his manners. His hips were thrust out and enticing. My mind went completely blank.

  Darrin sat up. “My turn.”

  Those words sent a shiver of anticipation down my spine. His next move surrendered a piece to me while taking one of mine. “Skirt,” he whispered.

  I wore two under my dress. “Which one?”

  “The one closest to your skin.” Darrin swallowed and gritted his teeth. His heavy breathing made me nervous.

  Rising to my feet, I pulled up the lower part of my dress and the skirt just beneath to expose the blue underskirt. Darrin’s attention felt as intense as the summer heat. He took the hard-won prize with delicacy and reverence. Balling the skirt, he buried his nose into it and inhaled deeply as a drowning man coming up for air. The intimacy of his gesture forced my eyes away.

  On the board Darrin had left me only two options. I could place him in check and stop the game or take his queen and remove the last item of clothing he had on. Only a genius could have backed me into a corner like this. “You are better than Paul,” I whispered.

  Wary dark eyes watched me. His expression remained neutral while I contemplated my next move. The corded stomach muscles disappearing under the top seam of his pants made my decision. I slid my rook and took his queen off the board. His eyes lit with dawning appreciation and a slow predatory smile crossed his lips.

  “Pants.” The word echoed off the stone.

  Darrin pulled himself up to his full height. Staring at me, playing with the knots in his breeches, he loosened the top, let the last article of bartering fall to his feet, and stepped out of his pants. His legs went on forever, but his…man parts…reminded me of the end of a bedpost. A smooth tip tapered wide held by a thin shaft. Only this shaft and tip throbbed. I felt drawn, pulled to it. I wanted to touch the rosy steel column of flesh, but I couldn’t move. Long minutes passed before he motioned to take a step toward me. My eyes widened. I leaned back in my chair. My heart pounded.

  Darrin nodded in understanding. “You’re not ready yet.” He bent down to his clothes and started picking them up.

  “Hey,” I said. “I won those. Each piece is a trophy.”

  My husband snapped his head up and gaped. Straightening, he put on that bravado I hadn’t seen since the first day I met him. “Well then, these are mine.”

  He snatched the three items he’d won and tucked them under his arm. He turned to me, bowed, and said, “My lady, goodnight.” And he marched out the door, nude as the day he was born.

  12 - Goththor

  Being king meant there were no doors closed to me. Including my wife’s personal chambers. When the guards silently opened the doors, her two maids were in the middle of undressing her. Bridgette was not pleased when I barged in, but didn’t seem surprised.

  “Out,” I growled at the two girls.

  The door closed and it was just the two of us, standing face-to-face, she stripped to her night-rail and me stripped of any control.

  “Off.” I jerked my thumb at her nightgown.

  “Bully.” My wife stood her ground.

  “Uncooperative, as usual.”

  “And you expect me to be ready at your whim.” Hands on her hips, she was clearly not going to give in.

  “You’ve been teasing me all day.” I gritted my teeth. “A man has his limits.”

  “Took you long enough. Was I your last resort?”

  If you’d fuck me, I wouldn’t go anywhere else. I’d almost said it. By the grace of the gods, I was able to hold my tongue. I was sick of her throwing this in my face every chance she got. How could we move past it if it never became part of the past. I released the breath I held and said, “That is going to be the last time you can bring up infidelity without being a hypocrite.”

  Brie went rigid, with her arms at her sides. “What do you mean?”

  I turned to the door. “Paul!”

  Brie gripped her nightgown. “What are you doing?”

  Keeping my face calm, I wanted her to know I was serious. “I see the way you look at each other.”

  “You’re hysterical; I want nothing to do with him.”

  “Liar.” I lunged forward and ripped the gown over her head.

  Bridgette cried out and tried to cover herself.

  “No!” I pointed to the bed. “Get on it.”

  Bridgette ran and dove under the covers.

  I threw her bed-sheet onto the floor. I pointed at the end of the four-poster bed. “Kneel facing out with your legs spread. Hold onto the bedposts or I’ll tie your wrists to them.”

  “Bully,” she said. But Brie embraced her embarrassment, splaying herself for an audience.

  The door was thrown open and Paul ran to me, bowed, and said, “Sire, what’s wrong? Where’s…”

  His eyes caught sight of Brie. He blinked rapidly before he turned away.

  “Look at her.” I sidled up to him and threw my hand around his shoulder. Thinking about watching him take my wife aroused a hidden secret within me. Paul trembled.

  “Gods-be-damned, a chance to look at the real thing and you shy away?” I jostled the man to get him to act.

  Paul’s eyes remained fixated at the ground. “I have more respect for you both than that.”

  A modest wife wouldn’t spread herself so prettily for a man, but this was Brie and neither her body nor her mouth remained humble. “Oh, for the love of St. Peter, don’t you understand anything, Aiden? He thinks you’re going to behead him for looking at me.”

  I furrowed my brow at her. She waved her hand at him. “No man would touch me lest they receive the wrath of King Goththor.”

  “So you’ve tried to have your way with other men and they refused you, is that what you’re telling me?”

  Paul stiffened under my one-armed embrace.

  “I have remained faithful in deed and word.” Brie seemed thoroughly incensed. She spoke more but her high shrieks traveled over me. I could no more think than climb a three-story wall. I turned my attentions to Paul. “You want her. You’ve
wanted her for a long time. It would please me if you took her now while I watched.” As soon as the words left my lips it became the very thing I desired most. “Go fuck her. I’ll watch.”

  His eyes widened and Paul searched my face. He blinked in rapid succession. “I don’t understand.”

  “It’s very easy. Take off your clothes and do what’s natural.”

  He was still unbelieving, and repeated my words. “Take off my clothes…and do what’s natural.”

  I sighed. Knowing my reputation, I tried another tactic. “How about this? If you don’t fuck her, I will behead you.”

  His eyes grew wide and all the blood ran out of his face.

  “Gods-be-damned, Paul, you are a brother to me. We’ve fought together, saved each other’s lives several times, you helped teach me and guided me into this mantle of king. I swear you’ll receive no repercussions.” I took hold of his jaw and pointed his face to Brie. “A king has one, maybe two real friends in his lifetime. I am fortunate to name you as one. I’ve watched you pay the price of clinging to your loyalty to me at every cathouse we’ve been to. You want her, she wants you, desperately.”

  As Paul soaked in my words, their impact eroded his strength to resist.

  “This is not a betrayal of me.” I turned to look at my wife and we both stared at the beauty before us.

  “Brie?” Paul’s voice cracked as he looked at her. It was his way of asking her permission.

  “If Aiden’s not going to have me, then it might as well be with someone who wants me.”

  I grimaced. That made me want to pin her down and show her how much I wanted her. Paul looked to me.

  I nodded. Paul walked forward and placed his hand on her hip. Brie inhaled in ecstasy. His hand carried up her side and over her breasts. Desire made my cock shoot up over my breeches. I wanted to watch him fuck her more than anything.

  “I hope to not regret this.” Paul closed his eyes and squeezed.

  My cock throbbed at the notion of being a voyeur. Brie, suddenly realizing that Paul was going to go through with it, stiffened. I stood there watching Paul fumble with his clothes. The man was shaking violently while mumbling, “Just take off your clothes and do what’s natural. Just like one of the hounds.”