The Mother of All abandoned us long ago. If she ever gave a damn in the first place.
Reaching the top of the staircase, I turn my back on her likeness as much as the goddess herself and continue on, rounding the corner to the royal wing. My strides are long and purposeful, filled with fury as I storm down the hall. The sound of my boots webs through the wood of the floor, vibrating beneath my feet.
I pass Theon’s chambers, mine, then Aurora’s. When I near the next royal suite, the sounds within stop me in my tracks. Hearing female moans, male grunts, and a muffled banging noise, I grit my teeth and kick in the door, splitting wood as it swings open to slam against the wall. And when I step over the threshold, my flimsy control nearly snaps at the sight before me.
Naked and bare, Kiora’s mouth is rounded in an O as she bends over the edge of her bed, her breasts swaying with each thrust from the male fucking her from behind. A male who is not her husband.
Gripping her by the waist, the male's face is contorted in rapture. Grunting and groaning, he continues ramming into her, oblivious of my presence despite my loud entrance. Unlike Kiora.
Locking sparkling brown eyes with mine, Kiora’s lips slowly lift into a brazen smile. “Harder,” she moans. “Fuck me harder.”
He picks up his pace and the wet sounds of his balls slapping against her cunt along with the scent of sex dripping in the air cause my lip to curl. I bound toward him, reaching him in two large strides to grab him by the throat and hurl him at the window. His body shatters through the glass, his startled cries deafening as he soars out into the air. Until the sound abruptly cuts off when he collides with the palace grounds far below.
Kiora sighs. “Is he dead?”
Folding my arms, I turn to face her. “Probably.”
“That’s unfortunate.” From her bent over position, Kiora rolls onto her back and stretches her arms above her head. “He was a fantastic fuck.” Her head suddenly pops up. “Was that your plan all along, Darius? You assumed that I'd be more willing to take you to bed if I was on the verge of release?” She props herself onto her forearms, chuckling. “I’d rather fuck myself than bear the touch of a half-breed.”
She flattens her feet on the bed and spreads her legs, baring her pussy. Her smile darkens as she trails her fingers down her body to dip her fingers into her cunt. Her need drips down her hand as she slides her fingers in and out, faster and faster, until she tosses her head back and screams her release.
Disgusted, my cock doesn't even twitch at the sight of one of the most beautiful females in Vanyimar orgasming mere steps from where I stand. I only feel abject loathing towards my brother's wife. “You've gone too far this time, Kiora.”
Ignoring me, she releases a sated sigh and slithers off the bed, sauntering towards me. “I may not let an abomination such as yourself touch me, but I am benevolent enough to allow you a small taste.” She raises two fingers, slickened from her release, to hover above my lips. “A taste of what you’ll never have.”
The food lining my stomach revolts at her sour scent. As she lowers her fingers to my lips, my arm snaps out, snatching her wrist and flinging her across the room. Her body soars through the air with a shriek as she tumbles across the bed.
She retreats, scurrying towards the headboard as I barrel towards her with a snarl, slapping my hand on the wall above her hunched over form. “If you ever put those foul fingers near me again, I'll bite them off.”
Fearful but not quelled, she glares at me beneath thick lashes. “How do you think Theon will react to his brother dismembering his wife?”
Growling, I lower my head closer to hers. “I don’t think he’ll give a shit after I tell him I caught his whore of a wife with another male. Again.” Shoving off the wall, I move towards the door, attempting to keep hold of my fraying control, but the sound of Kiora’s laughter halts me in the doorway.
“Who do you think Theon will believe? You? The bastard brother who’s always hated me?” The sound of silk sliding against skin precedes Kiora’s slippered footfalls. Her muffled steps rise in volume until she stops beside me to whisper in my ear. “Or me? His loving wife who rides his cock every night until the break of dawn?”
Gritting my teeth at the brutal truth of her statement, I claw at the door frame, wood shredding beneath my grip.
“We both know he’ll always choose me,” she says with a laugh, pressing her back against the doorframe.
“I don't have time for this,” I say, whipping my gaze toward hers. “I need to speak to my mother.”
Now clothed in a silk dressing robe, Kiora’s mouth turns down into a mocking frown as she places a palm over her heart. “I doubt your mother will appreciate you interrupting her meeting with King Luthais and Queen Celene.”
“Luthais and Celene are here?”
“They are.” She nods. “But of course, you’re already aware of that, aren’t you? As the Captain of the Guard, your presence is required at all royal gatherings.” Cocking her head to the side, her lips stretch into a wide smile. “Yet… you’re not.” Brown eyes sparkling in glee, she pats my chest over my stampeding heart “I wouldn't be too concerned about it. The Queen would never intentionally exclude you.”
Shrugging her off, I push off the doorframe and race out the door, Kiora’s laughter ringing in my ears as I storm towards my mother's chambers.
Kiora is wrong. My mother may not be fond of me, but she would never so brazenly undermine my position. Behind closed doors, of course, and often, but she wouldn't do it in public. Especially in front of the other royals. They’d see the strain between her and her private council as a sign of instability, and my mother would never allow that.
Yet, when I find Aerin guarding the door to my mother’s private meeting room and see his eyes widen in panic once he sees me storming toward him, I realize Kiora was right.
“Darius,” Aerin says, his palms raised. “You can’t disturb her.”
“Move,” I growl. My strides become longer, faster. My anger inflames to volcanic proportions with each step I take.
He shakes his head in apology, but remains unmoving. “I can't allow you through.”
There are traitors in my Guard, the Gods Cursed are attacking, the Soulless are amassing, and my people are dying. Yet here my mother is, safe and sound inside her crystal palace. She’s spurned my repeated warnings, refused to see the threat breathing down our neck, and now she’s removing me from my most basic duties because I won’t allow fear or Court horseshit to blind me as it does her. Well, fuck her. Fuck Aerin, fuck the Kings Council, and fuck anyone else who gets in my way.
My control releases with a snap and I give in to my rage, bathing in the fiery fury as I charge towards my mother’s faithful servant.
“Darius, don’t,” Aerin warns.
But I don't miss a step as I continue forward, flames slicing through the air from my orange, glittering palms.
His sapphire and starlight jewels suddenly illuminate and he tosses up a barrier of air with shimmering blue hands.
My lips tip into a vicious smirk at his weak display of power. Allowing my flames to sputter out, I summon air to my palms, forming two solid spheres as dense as granite. When I'm only a few paces away, I flick my hands and the orbs spear towards Aerin, blasting holes through his barrier and punching him in the chest, flinging him off his feet to crash through the door.
Queen Celene and King Luthais bolt out of their chairs, staring wide-eyed at the unconscious male sprawled out on the floor mere steps away. Only my mother remains seated as I step through the hole where the door once stood.
An ice-cold blizzard brews within Queen Adelphia’s gaze. Her fingers whiten as she clutches the armrests of the massive crystal throne raised up on the dais, several steps above the solid slab of stone centered within the room.
Carved from the Mandala Mountains, the ancient stone table is all jagged peaks and pitted divots, veined with serpentine threads of crushed starlight and royal blue sapphires, glinting beneath the shimmering crystal walls and the Gods Light sconces arrayed throughout the room. The jewels' luster is only slightly diminished by the half a dozen royal blue tapestries decorating the walls of the Queen's private meeting room, a smaller version of the throne room located stories below.
“Darius, what is the meaning of this?” Adelphia demands.
