Betrayer: (The Cursed Bloodstone Book 1)
Betrayer: Chapter 22

Twenty-one days after I arrived in Astarobane, the Bloodstone people gather in the same square they executed the five Kyanites in. A lively atmosphere fills the space where death fell only a short while ago.

Instead of their usual black or gray, the women don colorful surcoats. Thankfully, Kassandra warned me in advance. The day before the Mona Festival, she handed me a scarlet surcoat, and she admitted she had made it for me.

As I walk through the celebration, I admire the way the material feels against my skin. The way it hugs my curves, then flares around my legs.

Gabriel keeps me next to him as he greets people and shakes hands. At every smile and forced word, emptiness follows me. I perform for him, my destiny, and for myself, yet it stings that he only needs me near when he wants to prove something.

Every morning I wake, believing it will happen. Gabriel will see all my efforts and his attitude toward me will change. It never happens. He wants me as much as he wants a wart on his finger.

Leaves skirt across the sandstone streets as Luc joins us with a young girl, who looks no older than six summers. He introduces her to me as his daughter, Adelaide. The young girl with her curly blonde hair and green eyes flashes a bright smile at me. I can’t help but respond. At home, I always had a group of children visit me at the apothecary. They were mostly orphans, and they would stop by to talk about their day. I always made sure they left with full bellies.

Gabriel stops at one of the merchant’s booths and buys stick candy for Adelaide. Between eating the sweet, she grins at him and rattles on about the pony her father promised to buy her.

Over the throng of people, I glimpse Kassandra walking toward us, and some of the tension eases. Her friendship has meant everything. The way she helps with my garden, brings me bread, and gives me such fine clothing. Without question or judgment, she welcomed me into her life and home. The rest of the Bloodstone people haven’t been as friendly. Few smile at me. Even fewer speak to me.

Her sister, Everly, trails her but cuts away to talk to Cenric. From the distance between us, I cannot hear their conversation, nor can I see his eyes—those cold, lifeless eyes that had no hesitation in killing those four Malachites.

For a second time, my attention lowers to the surcoat Kassandra sewed for me. I have never owned anything this elegant or soft. Lightly, I run my fingers over a sleeve, admiring her ability to sew neat stitches.

She admitted that sewing is how she earns a living, and that she crafted my surcoat from leftover materials from one of her wealthier clients.

Luc turns to Gabriel. “Keep an eye on Adelaide. I need to talk to Kassandra.”

Gabriel’s brow rises as he takes the young girl’s hand. “About?”

A tic forms in Luc’s jaw as he shakes his head. Maybe because he doesn’t wish to speak, or he doesn’t want to, knowing I’m standing here.

Emotions flicker across Gabriel’s tight features, emotions I find impossible to read. “Luc…”

The edges near Luc’s mouth soften as he slaps his hand against Gabriel’s back. “Cheer up.” He leans closer and drops his voice a fraction. “What I do, I do for all Bloodstone.”

“I wouldn’t a—”

“—you don’t need to.” Again, Luc smacks Gabriel’s back, offers a quick smile, and disappears into the crowd of people.

I look between Gabriel and the little girl now clinging to his hand. “What does Luc want from Kassandra?”

Kassandra has become dear to me in ways I never imagined a Bloodstone would.

“He didn’t say,” Gabriel says as he continues walking through the rows and rows of booths.

“But you understood him.”

“It’s no concern of yours.” Gabriel turns us down a path filled with food merchants.

“Kassandra is my friend,” I say tersely.

Clouds darken Gabriel’s eyes as he speaks. “Then you’ll rest easy, knowing Luc will do nothing more than what your friend already wants.”

“You know?”

A taut smile pulls at Gabriel’s mouth as he nods. “I may be just a warrior to you, but I’m not blind.”

“I have never thought you were just a warrior.”

Adelaide tugs at Gabriel’s hand. “I want to see the animals.”

“And you shall,” he says, his tone gentle as he speaks to the young girl.

Our conversation is forgotten as Gabriel takes Adelaide to see the animals. She pets goats, sheep, and calves before riding a pony.

With Adelaide around, I observe a gentleness in Gabriel that he doesn’t show with others. The way he takes her from animal to animal and talks with her. He kneels to her level and holds eye contact. In return, she clings to his hand and chatters endlessly.

As I wait for Gabriel and Adelaide near a large olive tree, I observe Praxis speaking to Alden. As the younger man speaks, he throws his hands wide and talks faster. I make out one word—one very pointed word. Father.

My breath hitches as I jerk my gaze around. Nobody else seems to notice their conversation.

Alden is Praxis’ father? Why didn’t anyone say so before?

I try to remember what I know of the young warrior, but other than that one time, I haven’t been around him.

When the sun yields to the moon, Luc fetches his daughter. Happiness skips in Kassandra’s eyes as she keeps pace next to him. I try to read those cues as they walk away with Adelaide.

“Did Luc…” I swallow and start over. “Will they wed?”

Gabriel leads me to a wall away from the bustle of people and dancing couples. “Maybe.”

“Do you not know?”

He shrugs.

It takes everything in me to not stomp Gabriel’s foot. “Why are you being so vague?”

Emotions impossible to decipher cross Gabriel’s features. “Luc’s wife has only been dead a summer, and he adored her.”

That explains Luc’s haunted eyes. They haven’t changed even after speaking to Kassandra.

My mind whirls as I consider how much Kassandra cares for Luc. She shouldn’t be in a relationship with a man who adores another. “If Luc doesn’t care for Kassandra. Then why wed?”

“The same reason everyone weds,” Gabriel says in a flat voice. “To procreate.”

“That’s a lonely way to think of marriage.”

“Did you expect sonnets?”

I really am going to stomp his foot.

Instead of giving in to the urge, I pluck up a goblet of wine and take a long drink. Though, it doesn’t stop me from speaking freely. Probably too freely. “Procreation is obviously not the reason you wed me.”

Torchlight frames him as he shifts enough to meet my gaze. I raise my goblet in a silent salute and take an even greedier drink.

When he continues to stare in sullen silence, I speak. “Is something amiss, Gabriel?”

“Your tongue is too free.”

A scoff escapes me. “Shall you bridle it, then? Olah knows you have no other use for my tongue.”

A passing couple gawks at my words as Gabriel’s brow rises nearly to his hairline. He deserved my curt response.

“Are you trying to vex me?”

Raising my goblet to my lips, I take another long draw and step closer to him. “I’m trying to make you feel something.”

It’s been too long since we really spoke, and even longer since I vowed to win his favor.

“Anger?” Those silver-blue eyes trace over me, and my skin warms as his attention shifts to the surcoat Kassandra made me.

It’s the first time he’s really looked at me since the day in the sweat lodge. It awakens the part of me stifled by his rejection and wounded by his lack of interest.

“Would that flame your desire?” I run my fingertips down the front of his surcoat. “Would you touch me?” When he doesn’t answer or try to push me away, I flick my nails upward, scraping them along his throat. “I wonder what that would feel like to have you stroke me.”

Lured by the wine, perhaps, I draw even closer. “Gabriel.” I lift to my tiptoes and sink my fingers into his thick hair, drawing his mouth downward. “I want to taste you.”

The warmth of his breath teases my skin as his gaze lowers to my lips. Need flares through me as I rise even higher, seeking the taste, the hint of wine, of everything he keeps from me. The moment our mouths connect, a stirring awakens deep in my belly. A stirring subdued by summers of training and denying myself.

Now, here it is very much alive and begging for more. More. More. More. Of this. Him. It doesn’t matter what he is, or who he is. Not when that stirring dives deep within me, rousing my desire.

Warmth heats my veins as he concedes, kissing me back with an intensity that drives us backward against a tree and sends need throbbing between my legs. His hands grip my hips as he clutches me tight and gives in to the fervor, the passion surging between us.

I push aside everything else. My mission. His reluctance to deepen our relationship. Our differences. Instead, I focus on just being a woman giving herself to her husband.

It doesn’t last long enough, him caving to his lust. He pulls away, leaving a rush of air between us. I stumble against the tree and shove my hair behind my shoulders.

Several breaths pass before he speaks, his tone even and not affected by our encounter. “Follow me.”

I blink at the request and jerk my gaze around me. Nobody seemed to notice our embrace, yet my skin burns as if a thousand people stare and silently judge me for giving myself so ardently.

“Follow me,” Gabriel repeats, drawing my focus to him.

Numbly, I do as he requested, following him through the throng of people. He walks so fast, I must take two steps to his one.

I glance up at him the moment we stroll in the street alone. Moonlight skims his taut features as he continues guiding me toward the cottage we share.

The Kyanite in me knows I shouldn’t have encouraged him. The mere woman tingles with thoughts of more.

“Shall you bed me now?” I ask as we step through the front door a few moments later.

Silence imbues him as he pours a goblet of wine and drinks the entire thing.

I lick my bottom lip, still tasting him. “Gabriel.”

Torchlight flares in his eyes as they settle on me. “Did you think if you kissed me, I’d change my stance?” He sets the goblet down with a thud.

“I hoped.”

“I haven’t.” He reaches for the jar of wine, refills his goblet, and downs that one too.

My brow rises. “Are you planning to get sloshed?”

“No. I just like wine.” As if silently challenging me, he lifts the jar and drinks from the terracotta pottery.

“I see. Perhaps you should grow grapes to keep up with your obsession.”

His knuckles tighten against the jar as he tips it back for a second time and drinks.

My breath hitches as reality strikes me. His reality. I affected him earlier.

“Gabriel.”

He lowers the pottery to the table with another forceful thump. “Don’t. Not tonight. I…” A tic forms in his jaw. “Not tonight.”

Why? Because tonight you’re teetering on the edge of your control?

What would happen if I lured him right over the edge?

The hem of my gown brushes the stone floor as I step closer to him. “Make me your wife, Gabriel.”

Those silver-blue eyes meet mine, and my pulse quickens. Fire burns in those depths. Fire for me. Fire for more. Fire for another kiss.

“I want this,” I say, my voice low, needy.

It’s not a lie. It’s the truth I discovered the moment I tasted him at the festival.

I move close enough for my body to touch his. It’s merely there, a breath, a whisper, a promise of more if he relents.

“Will you?”

He lifts my chin, and I exhale, knowing he’ll kiss me. Tonight, everything will change between us.

Our breaths mingle as he leans closer, hovering his lips near mine. “No.”

I blink against the bluntness of that word as he releases me and steps back.

“You’re a tease,” I whisper, my words too revealing. Too hurt by his refusal to consummate our marriage.

“No. That role belongs solely to you.” He lifts the jar and takes another, longer drink. At this rate, the warrior will soon be unable to walk.

I scrub my fingers across my burning cheeks, wishing I didn’t want him. Wishing things were different. Wishing Luc had found me a humble farmer to marry. Not this stubborn man.

“You’re angry with me.” I continue, my tone bruised and chafing from his rejection. “Because I’m a Kyanite.”

“Yes.” He shakes the jar, allowing the liquid to slosh together. “I am.”

Frustration ricochets through me as I crumble into a chair and sigh. “So, you’ll punish me and keep me from pleasure?”

“Pleasure yourself.” He disappears into the bedroom with his jar of wine and shuts the door.

“I will,” I say, loud enough to carry to him. “In bed next to you.”

My breath falters as the door rips open, and Gabriel frames the opening with his broad shoulders and his impressive height.

“What did you say?” he asks, his voice a husky rasp, or maybe I just want him to sound that way.

I stand and face him. “I said, I will pleasure myself next to you.”

A full smile widens his mouth, catching me unaware. I should have prepared for it, but there was never any preparing for how it softens his features and makes him so very beddable. I dig my heels into the ground instead of obeying my carnal instincts.

For all my bravado, I am not equipped for what he says next. “Show me.”

The sky above!

I really should learn to bridle my tongue.

“What?” I ask, still not believing he said what he did.

“You heard me. Show me how you’d pleasure yourself.”

“Do you think I’ll back down?” I reach for the hem of my surcoat and yank it to my thighs. “Or do you really want to watch?”

A vein throbs in his temple as I inch the surcoat higher with one hand and bring the other to cradle the silky undergarments at the juncture between my legs.

“Do you want to touch me here, Gabriel?”

A knock at the front door shatters the moment as his attention shifts away, and I drop the material. Warmth scours my cheeks as I flee to the washing stand, wet a rag, and yank it along my flushed face. I have never touched myself there in front of anyone before.

He drives me to a place no man has ever driven me. At first, it was the simple matter of gaining his favor. Then, it was about my pride.

Now…

It’s a matter of chasing the unattainable, sating the desire he invokes, tasting the forbidden wine. For that is what he is. Forbidden.

But that doesn’t mean I cannot enjoy what he offers. At least that’s what I tell myself as familiar voices float to me. Luc and Kassandra.

Though, their words are indiscernible, I make out one. Betrothed. After a few more dabs against my cheeks, I exit the bedchamber to congratulate a beaming Kassandra.

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