Chapter Thirteen
Rilark
The day wore on, and soon my brother had dismissed us back home, asking me to take his chosen safely back to his apartment. But, to my surprise, she asked to be taken home with me, instead.
“I don’t want to go home,” she admitted shyly in the car.
My heart beat quickly at the thought. Perhaps something my mother said had stuck with her. Perhaps she was making her choice right now. To my surprise, I wanted that to be true.
She stepped into my apartment and looked around curiously. The quarters of a soldier were hardly comparable to the luxury of the penthouse palace she was used to. My apartment was sparse in decoration. It was a studio, with my bed taking center stage in the brick room with a leather couch and chair. The kitchen was separated by three walls and housed an impressive collection of alcohol.
“The bachelor pad,” she said with less exuberance.
“Where the magic happens,” I followed up, equally tired. “Drink?”
She thumbed over my things, picked up a photo of myself and my mother before setting it back on my desk awkwardly. She turned to me and gave a half smile before falling back onto the feather bed.
“Please,” she confirmed and began to undress.
I walked to the kitchen and poured two glasses of brandy. I looked for my best glasses and tried to give her something she was more accustomed to. Suddenly all I could think of was competing with Galsthenn, as though we were children again.
The drinks clinked together as I brought them back to her in one hand. She took one from me and slipped into a silk nightie that left little to the imagination.
“You’re sleeping here?” I questioned; worry coating my question.
She blinked in surprise. “I don’t have to,” she quickly corrected herself, setting her drink down on the night table and reaching for her clothes. “I thought since Galsthenn was–”
“No, no,” I waved her off and grabbed her head, pulling her lips into mine. “I want you to,” I smiled.
She exhaled and suddenly the two of us, who had once been so full of words, had nothing left to say. There was an awkward tension that hung in the air. She seemed to sense it too and broke out into a string of giggles. Her smile made me smile. She emptied the glass down her delicate throat in a single gulp and set the cup down with a loud crash. I could tell the buzz was taking effect already as she stumbled into my arms.
“Take me,” she ordered, pulling my shirt off my back and guiding my mouth toward her breasts with a careless, hurried desire. But I didn’t want it like that. Not tonight. I cupped them gently in my hands, setting soft lips down along her full breasts and soft skin before laying her underneath me.
I kissed her full lips, and we lay like that for minutes and minutes, kissing and nothing more. I took her delicate wrists in my hand and raised her arms above her head, intertwining my fingers with hers and watching them dance in between kisses.
When her hands grew free from my grip, she placed her hands along the scales that traced my back and caused a flurry of warmth to cascade through my body as they lit up from her touch. I smiled at the gesture and her lips curved to meet mine.
Restless from the tease, she reached down and began to stroke me before removing the rest of my clothes and looking up at me with demanding eyes.
I entered her slowly so that she exhaled with each push. Her body tried to grind against mine, but I held her still. Tonight I wanted to enjoy her the way I felt I deserved to. I wanted this to last as long as possible.
She fought against this several times, reaching up to scratch me or provoke me into ramming hard into her warmth, but I wouldn’t answer her call. Not tonight. Tonight it was my way.
As she watched me her eyes seemed to change, and suddenly she was settled. Her touch turned from cold and wanton to sweet and docile. It was a side of her I’d never seen before, and at that moment, I felt like she belonged entirely to me.
“I like it here,” she whispered through passionate breaths.
“It isn’t much,” I teased, looking around the apartment modestly. I smirked at her before leaning in and laying kisses along her neckline.
“No…” She shook her head with embarrassment and breathed under my touch. “Here,” she whispered, and her eyes suddenly welled with tears. She pressed her hand against my chest and looked up at me with a bashful cry.
I stopped and watched her tears fall in a shower of abashed, awkward laughter. She used her hands on my back to propel me forward, encouraging me to keep going. I did as she asked and moved slowly, rhythmically against her body.
“So do I,” I whispered back.
She grabbed my face in her hands and traced the red shade of my temples with her palms and leaned up to kiss me. She pressed her head against mine so that our noses were touching almost painfully and the rest all came out as moans.
When it was over, she curled up onto my chest and absent-mindedly played with my chest hairs and watched my breathing. “I think I’m done,” she said suddenly.
“With me?” I snorted. “That was unapologetic.”
“With Galsthenn,” she said numbly. “Maybe.”
My body froze, and I knew she could feel me tense beneath her. I leaned my head down but couldn’t see her expression, only her mess of hair. I set my hand on the back of her head and breathed, giving her ample time to tell me she was kidding.
She wasn’t kidding.
“How’s that?” I said, for lack of a better question.
“I think… I shouldn’t have come here,” she said quietly, and I could feel a tear hit my chest.
“You’re doing fine,” I laughed.
“Oh yeah,” she scoffed. “I’m a real keeper.” She shook her head and exhaled. “I think I should go home. I can’t live these lies anymore.”
“Are you serious?”
She looked up at me, barely lifting her head off my chest. “I’m sure Riddell has some kind of protection program in place for situations like this.”
“For what?” I narrowed my brows. “He’s not hurting you.”
“No, I’m doing the hurting!” she shouted, sitting up on the bed. I grabbed her shoulder to encourage her to fill the cold space on my skin once more, but she pulled away. “I’m done.”
“Okay,” I said quickly.
She turned to me, looking almost angry at my reply. I breathed in confusion and tried to read her expression but couldn’t. Just tell me what you want me to do, I wanted to yell, but I didn’t say a word.
I looked at her square angles and the bulb on the end of her nose: the brows that offered me so much annoyance and passion and happiness and suddenly I felt my stomach go sick.
Suddenly, the thought of losing her seemed like an impossibility. She’d awoken something new in me. Something I wasn’t expecting. Her kisses were different; comforting and new. Being near her feels like every nerve is awake.
It’s rare I feel embarrassment, but as she stared at me, I found it was washing over me with immense force. Leave and let me come with you, was what I’d wanted to say, but every time it reached my throat I couldn’t seem to form the words.
She stared at me with such expectation for my words. It was like I could see her heart floating in front of me and I couldn’t turn it away nor take it into my possession. She wanted something from me, but I didn’t know what.
There was an expectation from her that suddenly fell and I could see a sadness wash over her face once more. Whatever she wanted, I failed at giving her.
Nothing more was said. She gave an obvious sigh and leaned back down into the cocoon of warmth we’d created together, never moving.
The morning light had barely broken through the small window in my bedroom as I opened my eyes. I felt heavy and tired. I’d spent the night in a flourish of half-sleep, waking to make sure Rosalyn was still next to me: to make sure it was all still real.
I thought about the rebellion, and the change Tardis said he saw in me. As the night dimmed, his words filled me with horror, but as the morning peered through the slats of the blinds, I felt complacent. Happy, even. Maybe this was love after all. Perhaps this is what it felt like: an agonizing need to possess her, exuberant happiness that couldn’t be quelled mixed with intense pain. Yeah. From all I’d heard of, that sounded like love to me.
I looked over at the mass of light brown locks that seemed to trace every curve of Rosalyn’s body with masses of silk.
While leaning in to smell her unique scent, I caressed her arm with the back of my finger and sighed. That was it then… I was in love.
In love with my brother’s chosen one.
I pressed my eyes shut and felt a familiar pang of jealousy rush through my stomach. Suddenly it bothered me, or at least I could admit it now. I hated the thought of them together. Before it had been some sort of hilarious game; taking her from him. Using her body. The thought that they spent their time together was simply a given that made my conquering her that much sweeter.
Now all I could think about was what they did together, how he might make her laugh, the comfort he brought to her, the fact that he took her body before I did. I frowned deeply and sat on the thought.
I hated that.
Yet, she was here with me. It was the only thought that quelled me.
My breaths became louder as I looked at her naked body next to me and leaned in to catch her lips with mine, running my hand down her smooth side and under the sheets. Her eyes stirred, but never opened as she offered me a small reciprocation.
Then her hazel eyes came to life.
I smiled at her and drew back from the kiss, suddenly in awe of how the light seemed to hit her features and make her appear that much more innocent.
“What?” she whispered curiously, watching me.
I exhaled and closed my eyes, drawing her body close to my chest. Maybe this was why people attended choosings. For this very reason. To start a family or to hold something so small and precious close to your body. It all felt so different now.
“Nothing,” I said with a frown. She seemed to stiffen at the response, and suddenly I could feel her pulling away. I spread my free wing broadly, and she reached up to graze it with her fingers, then settled once more.
“I want to discuss something,” I stammered awkwardly, suddenly too aware of my breathing and wondering if the room was moving as slowly for her as it was for me.
I was ready. My love was real now. I would leave and go back to Riddell, go into hiding, go to the Rebels, do whatever she wanted just so she wouldn’t go. Excitement and fear flowed through my throat as I readied the words.
“Hungry…” she murmured quietly, sounding as though she were already dozing back to sleep.
“I’ll get something,” I offered, feeling my body settle back down from my worked-up state. I carefully took my leave from her, looking back once to see the contrast of her pale skin against my dark sheets before making my way into the kitchen.
The cold floor sent chills through my body; the tiles felt like ice beneath me. I perused the refrigerator for something to bring back to Rosalyn. I knew she preferred to pick at many little things: grapes, breads, and other pastries as opposed to feasting on a large meal. I made sure to grab her favorite things as I raced back into the bedroom with two plates of food.
“Ask, and you shall receive,” I greeted, surprised as I saw Rosalyn seemed wide awake now and was already getting dressed. Her face flushed as I walked in on her clasping her black bra back together and she took a sharp inhale.
“Keep it off,” I joked, and she shook her head with a wry smile.
She offered a small smile but continued dressing, never meeting my eyes.
“All your favorites,” I said and moved the bedcovers to the side. I patted my hand against the sheets, and she moved closer to me. I set my jaw and watched her, only relaxing as she began to happily pick at the food I’d brought.
We laid like this for an hour, sharing conversation about growing up in the rebellion, our shared dislike for cold coffee and noises people made when they thought they were alone. Her thoughts made me laugh. She was so introverted, sometimes I felt like Rosalyn saw things in people that others might spend a lifetime ignoring.
She was mid-thought when I leaned in and kissed her, sweetly, the way I felt she’d wanted to be kissed. It wasn’t the reaction I was hoping for. Her eyes drew down to the sheets, and her lips fell flat against mine.
“Everything alright?”
“Yeah,” she said as she glanced at her phone with a belated sigh.
“You’re waiting for him?”
She nodded.
“Gonna tell him it’s over?”
I sat silently for the moments that felt like lifetimes and slowly came to the realization that our time together was temporary. “Oh.” I exhaled sharply, my words barely audible. Suddenly, my arms felt like weights as the air in the room shifted.
“I mean…” A deep frown drew up between her thin brows and settled there as her hazel eyes finally met mine. “Galsthenn chose me. I’m his mate.”
I laughed. “So what does that make me?”
She stood from the bed, playfully throwing her pillow at me. “Chopped liver; I don’t know!” She laughed. “I thought we were just having fun.”
Her every move seemed so calculated suddenly, and I knew she was putting on. Was this was she did at home? Sneak off with me during the day and act blithe and content with him?
I could feel my chest tighten and my nose tingled from the back of my throat. Tears threatened to well up, but I pushed them as far down as I could. With a quick raise and fall of my brows, I stared at her in anger before giving a nod of acknowledgment. Then I began to dress.
“Rilark,” she said with a deliberate laugh; her demeanor casual and judgmental, as though I were overreacting.
“Here I thought you were running off to Earth!” came my sarcastic droll. “Last night you stayed with me,” I snapped. “Because that’s how sure you were that you were leaving. You didn’t care if he knew, remember?”
“Yeah, and I thought about it, and it was… It’s not me and Galsthenn that need to be ended, okay? He loves me and…”
And she had no idea how I felt about her. I wondered if that’s what she was going to say. I wondered if her drop in courage didn’t have everything to do with my reaction, or lack thereof, to her thoughts of leaving him.
I should have done everything differently.
“Get out,” I said tersely.
She stared at me with a blink, and suddenly her façade crumbled, as simply as that. “Rilark,” she repeated my name with desperation this time.
“And for the record,” I snapped, “this was never fun.”
She swallowed hard and grabbed her dress off the floor, slipping into it and shifting from left to right to fit the fabric over her curves. She zipped the garment up in a hurry, her hands shaking as her eyes never left mine.
“Never fun as in…?”
I knew what she wanted me to say. It was never fun; it meant something. But I no longer felt the need to give her that satisfaction.
“As in,” I said callously, “You’ve been nothing but a pain in my ass from the start.” Then I smiled. “Maybe we should both be glad it’s over with.”