OBSIDIAN GUARD BOOK 2

CHAPTER 13 LETTING THE CROWN DOWN FOR A NIGHT

POV Valeryen

I stood in my private chambers, the rings resting on the vanity with a series of sharp, metallic clicks. I stripped away the midnight silks of the Queen, shedding the persona of the untouchable monarch like a snake shedding its skin.

Beneath the finery, I was still the woman who had clawed her way out of the deep veins. I pulled on the familiar, salt-worn leathers and fastened just my one small ruby bracelet.

The meeting at the fork was set. Kaelen and the others were drilling in the courtyard. The pieces were on the board. Now, the Queen needed to disappear, and Valry needed to play.

The descent into the high-security room I had the boys moved to earlier was silent. I didn't take an escort; I didn't need one. My guards knew better than to question where I went in the dead of night in my own tower.

I reached the cell door and stopped in the shadows, anticipation rising. The violet hum of the energy field cast a ghostly glow over the door. I peered through the one-way window and saw Gideon pacing like a caged panther, his movements jerky and frustrated.

Without his Heart-Weave, he looked lost in the silence. Ollivander sat on the stone bench, his cuffed hands resting in his lap, the perfect picture of patient submission.

I stepped into the room like I was sneaking in and afraid to get caught.

Gideon's head snapped toward me. Even without his powers, his instincts were razor-sharp. His eyes widened, a flash of pure, predatory relief washing over his face.

"Valry," he rasped, his voice sounding hollow in the dampened air of the cell. He lunged toward the violet barrier, stopping just inches from the energy.

"You came. They told me... they told me the Queen was a monster, that she'd have either of your heads if I breathed wrong."

"I'm fine, Gideon," I purred. It was nice being worried about for a change. I closed and locked the door behind me quickly, like I was rushing and afraid to get caught.

"I shouldn't be here," I whispered, my voice tight with a fake, frantic edge. I leaned my back against the locked door, breathing heavily as if I'd just sprinted past a dozen guards.

"I hold a high position in the Tower where I handle the Queen's logistics, but if she finds out I've bypassed the security for a prisoner, she won't just take my head. She'll make sure I'm forgotten in the deep veins."

Gideon's eyes darkened, his jaw tightening. The idea of me being in danger for his sake was clearly doing something to his pulse.

"Then why did you come? You should have stayed safe, Valry. I'm the collateral. I'm safe."

"I couldn't stay away," I said, stepping into his space.

"Not after the way you looked at me. And not with both of you locked in here like animals."

I looked at Ollivander, who was playing his part beautifully, huddled on the edge of the bed with his cuffed hands resting on his knees. Then I looked back at Gideon. He was a mountain of a man, even in the dampening cuffs that kept his hands bound behind his back.

"Get on your knees, Gideon," I commanded, my voice dropping to a low, authoritative purr.

Without a second of hesitation, Gideon dropped. The sound of his knees hitting the plush carpet was muffled, but the impact was heavy. Because of his height, even kneeling, his face was level with my chest.

He looked up at me, his breathing ragged, the heat radiating off his body like a furnace. He looked like a wolf waiting for a blessing.

"I can't get you out," I whispered, reaching out to tangle my fingers in his hair. "The Queen has the whole district on lockdown. If I tried to move you, we'd be dead before we hit the street. But I can give you this."

I didn't wait for him to respond. I leaned down, grabbing his face with my free hand and crushing my mouth against his.

It wasn't a soft kiss. It was a collision. It was ferocious and desperate, tasting of the danger I'd fabricated and the raw, unbridled hunger we both shared.

Gideon let out a muffled groan into my mouth, his head tilting back as he tried to deepen the contact, his bound arms straining against the iron behind him. He pressed his face into me, his stubble grazing my skin, inhaling me as if I were the only clean air in a smoke-filled room.

I felt his heart slamming against his ribs, not through a weave, but through the sheer physical proximity of him. He was desperate for the touch, for the proof that he wasn't alone in the silence of the dampening stones.

I pulled back just an inch, our lips still brushing.

"Tonight you're mine," I breathed against his mouth.

"The Queen might own your life, but I want to own your soul. Do you understand?"

"Yes," he rasped, his eyes blown wide and manic.

"Take it."

I looked over his shoulder at Ollivander. "My pet, come here. I wish to remind you who you truly belong to. I'll find a way tomorrow to try and get you out safely."

I pulled a small, jagged piece of metal from my pocket, a "lockpick" I'd fashioned to sell the story.

"Hold still," I whispered, my fingers dancing over the heavy iron on Gideon's wrists. I made a show of struggling, my brow furrowed in faux-concentration, letting my knuckles graze the sensitive skin of his inner arms.

I felt his pulse through his skin; it was like a trapped bird beating against a cage.

Click.

The cuffs fell away, hitting the plush rug with a heavy thud. Gideon let out a breath that was almost a sob, his massive hands immediately coming forward to cup my face.

He looked like a man who had been drowning and had just found the surface.

"Ollivander," he rasped, turning instantly to the boy. "Valry, get his off too."

Whack.

Gideon clutched his cheek. I knew he could handle more than most, so I had used my weave to strengthen my entire arm and hand to strike him.

"You do not tell me what to do, little one," I said in a rebuke tone.

He folded in half to bow with his forehead touching the floor and his ass up high in the air. This gave me an idea for later.

"I'm sorry, my Goddess, I never should have said such a thing."

"Don't worry, I have a way to have you make it up to me. I do need to clarify that your cuffs, I know how to undo, but Ollivander's... I can't... they are different," I lied, my voice laced with a convincing tremor of panic.

"They're specialized Thanes' locks. I don't have the key or skill. I'll have to find a way tomorrow, my pet. For now, you must stay as you are."

In reality, the sight of Ollivander cuffed and vulnerable was exactly what I wanted, and having Gideon's hands free was, as always, exactly what I wanted.

Besides, I knew the Tower was laced with enough gems that even with his hands free, Gideon's heart-weaving would be a muffled and a near useless hum. My secrets were safe behind these walls.

"It's alright, Master," Ollivander whispered, his eyes fixed on mine, knowing exactly why I was leaving the iron on him.

"As long as you are free."

"Ollivander," I commanded, "help me prepare our little one for his first punishment."

The undressing was a slow, agonizing ritual. Ollivander moved first, his cuffed hands working with a practiced, fluid grace. He used his fingers and his teeth to tug at the laces of Gideon's heavy tunic.

Gideon stood like a statue of bronze, his chest heaving, his eyes locked on mine as Ollivander peeled the fabric away to reveal the sheer, brutal landscape of his torso.

When the tunic hit the floor, I stepped in. Together, Ollivander and I worked on Gideon's trousers, our hands brushing against each other over the hardening heat of his groin.

Gideon let out a low, vibrating growl as we stripped him bare, his skin shivering everywhere we touched.

Next, it was Ollivander's turn. Gideon barely waited for a command; his large, freed hands were frantic as he helped me slide the silk from the boy's frame.

The contrast was breathtaking: Gideon's rugged, scarred bulk against Ollivander's pale, lithe elegance, still punctuated by the dark iron at his wrists.

Finally, they turned to me.

I stood before them. Gideon reached out first, his touch surprisingly hesitant for a man of his size. His fingers grazed the collar of my vest, and I felt a jolt of electricity snap between us.

Then Ollivander joined him, his cuffed hands awkward but determined as they worked the buckles and straps.

As the leather gave way, falling in a heap at my boots, I saw them both swallow hard. I was a map of my own history, scars from the mines, marks from the forge, and the undeniable strength of a woman who could rule.

I was their Goddess, and as I stepped into the space between them, I felt their loins stir, their bodies reacting to my proximity like iron filings to a magnet. Every time my fingers grazed a hip or a shoulder, a fresh wave of shivers racked their frames.

"You both look so hungry," I purred, my hands resting on their chests, one massive and frantic, one slender and steady.

The sight of Gideon folded in half earlier with his forehead pressed to the floor and his muscular frame offered up in total, shameful surrender, was a better tonic than any wine in my cellar.

I looked at the red mark blossoming on his cheek from my strike. My hand still tingled from the impact, the weave-enhanced blow having carried enough force to rattle a man half his size.

"Both of you," I commanded, my voice like velvet over gravel. "Bow, foreheads to the floor and ass up. Now." I needed him back in that position desperately.

I watched with a predatory hum as Ollivander moved to join him. Even with his hands cuffed in front of him, my pet moved with a graceful, haunting fluidity.

He settled beside Gideon, mimicking the pose, forehead down, spine arched, offering himself to me in the dim, violet-hued light of the cell.

Two powerful, naked men, stripped of their pride and their clothes, waiting for me.