Page 167 of Merciless Is My Crown

I banged my head against the trunk behind me. Something kept me away today, something overrode the desire straining my body, turning me to a sweaty, hungry mess, my cock aching with want. I’d watched every second of their sweaty, grinding passion, from Anaria’s first wonderous scan of the glade, to them re-dressing her tenderly, Raz lifting her in his arms, Tavion smoothing her hair away from her face, Zor kissing her until she smiled sleepily.

I wanted that to be me.

So much, I wanted that to be me, but loneliness was branded into my soul like a permanent stain.

Long ago, I’d lost everything—everyone—I’d ever loved. Because the world was cruel, and love was fragile. And fragile things did not thrive in the darkness.

So I fisted my cock in that very same darkness and began to stroke, Anaria’s scent in my nose, desire burning in my blood, cursing the now-dead king who’d ruined me in every way.

71

ANARIA

Days became weeks as one emergency bled into the next crisis, the city finally settling into a predictable pattern by the time the snows melted.

Shipments came regularly from the south, and now the wagons went back to the Havens filled with more than gold from the treasury, they carried medicines and potions from Southwell and finely woven textiles and glassware from the Blackcastle shops. The market was thriving, the bridge was holding, and the barracks were finally done.

The mages had started a guild, and we were due to recognize them, formally, in two days’ time at my weekly audience. My nose wrinkled at the idea as I stared out the window over the patchwork green of Solarys’s intertwined forest and farmland.

Flocks of brightly colored birds soared above the trees, deer roamed the open fields, and the farmers from the Havens brought in bushels of fruit twice their normal size. This year’s harvest looked to be the biggest on record, someone had said last week, and I closed my eyes, letting the wind play through my hair.

I lived for these moments of quiet.

They were too rare, but when they happened, they were pure bliss.

The city below teemed with patterns of orderly life, people going about their daily routines, no sign of the army that had stretched across the flatlands a few months ago. Most of the soldiers had gone back to their families, leaving only the most stalwart—and most brutal warriors—behind for Zorander and Raz to command.

Something told me they were glad they had someone to spar with besides each other.

The door behind me squealed and I closed my eyes.

“Anaria?” I already knew Sophie was alone because she didn’t call me my queen or Your Majesty with that little note of mocking sarcasm in her voice right before she rolled her eyes.

“I’m in a halfway decent mood today. Please tell me no one has burned down the stables, and we’ll be good.”

I turned then studied her face, everything inside me going still.

“There is someone downstairs. Raziel…he sent me to fetch you. They’re in the vestibule. Said to come right now.”

That Raziel didn’t come himself spoke to the seriousness of the situation, and the look on Sophie’s face told me the rest. The day we’d been dreading had arrived.

The Oracle was here.

She’d gotten free from the blood circle, and she was here, and she was going to ruin this city.

“Go find Torin,” I told her tightly. “You know what to do if things go badly. Get as many out as you can.”

“That’s not…why I’m here.” Sophie’s eyes flicked to the door before she wet her lips. “This is…might be worse. We don’t know yet. That’s what Raziel needs you for, my lady.”

I was already halfway to the door, then through, down the steps past the stone-faced guards, and made for the far end of the corridor, the small, windowless room we kept for situations that could get…bloody.

Raz’s magical shield hovered around a man on his knees dressed in rough, handmade leathers, his hair long and greasy. From the smell, he hadn’t bathed in months. Even the torches and the shield didn’t override the odor.

This smelled like…rot.

Tavion held up a hand to stop me. “A hunter, my queen. From the High Barrens.”

All the air guttered out of my lungs. “Is everyone…” Zorander shot me a look, sharp enough I closed my mouth.

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