Heavy is the Crown: A Gothic Grove Novel, page 23
“Drago wants us,” she whispers before wrapping her legs around my torso, as though we are alone in our own world, and locking her lips on mine again. I manage to pull away for a moment, long enough to see Garrett open the side door for us to go through the back hallways up to Drago. Ava continues to kiss my neck, causing my cock to strain against my tight jeans as I maneuver the dark hallway.
Drago’s scent hits me as soon as I enter his balcony. The scent used to physically hurt; now it feels like coming home. Ava giggles before she bites down on my neck, not hard enough to draw blood, but it still draws the attention of Drago.
“What the fuck did she take?” he asks as he takes in our tiny mate climbing me like a tree. Her body is warm against mine, her tongue tracing over the bite mark she just put on me.
“I don’t know. By the time I found her tonight, she was already high.” Moving to the couch, I peel Ava off me before placing her on the cushioned seat. Her eyes take a moment to focus before they lock onto Drago. A brief moment of realization flashes across her face when she suddenly understands how fucked she really is, given what she’s done, but as quickly as it’s there, it’s gone again, replaced by a sultry smile.
“Hello, boys,” she purrs, her hands now wandering over her body.
Slowly stepping into her space, Drago looks her over, his eyes calculating and assessing. “Hello, rakkaani. Care to tell us what’s going on?”
She has been acting strange for a while. It got worse after our conversation in the bathroom the other morning. When she thinks we’re not paying attention, she lets her mask drop, and you can see the worry on her face. Our dragons can smell the fear rolling off her in those moments, fear that we can’t place to a specific danger. Her getting high only amplifies the suspicious behavior.
Flopping onto her back dramatically, she lets out a long sigh before a fit of giggles invades her small body. “I’m just getting to live. I mean, I’ve spent so long not living, I don’t want to move on without actually living. You know?”
I frown, catching Drago’s eyes. He looks just as confused as I feel. “Ava, what are you talking about?” I ask as I lean down, eye level with her.
Another dramatic sigh whooshes from her before she sits back up, eyes blinking a slow pattern. “I just wanted to know what it was like to be free. Truly free. It’s why you do it, isn’t it, Shadow?”
I blink once, twice, and then realize what it is she’s on. “Eufori,” I say. Drago nods as though he figured. “She must have popped it and not smoked it; otherwise, I would have smelled it on her.” Drago only sells what you can smoke, but some people have put it in pill form and sell it illegally behind his back. It isn’t safe in that form, often mixed with whatever back-alley drug they could find to keep the price of production down. While slower to get you high, it lasts much longer. Ava has never shown an interest in the drug; in all the years we’ve known each other, I have never seen her do anything more than drink occasionally.
Drago snaps his fingers, and Kai walks in. “Tren said he saw her take it from us? She took a pill—find out who put that in our stash and bring them to the basement.” Kai only nods.
Standing back up next to Drago, I try to ignore the small craving that weasels its way into me as I watch her high. That could be us. We could enjoy this together. Imagine how it would feel to fuck together while high. I try to breathe through the voice, breathe through the way my muscles tense and my airway starts to feel constricted. The cool hand of my mate squeezing the back of my neck wipes away the thoughts. The squeeze brings me back into this moment, brings my focus back to the one in front of me, who needs me.
“We should get her home,” I say, watching as she taps out the beat of the song with her eyes closed. This close, I can see the glittering freckles she’s painted on her face, the matching glitter in her hair. She looks almost angelic, until you take in the dark bodysuit that clings to her. Her pale skin glows—even when stuck in the prison, she glowed. Tonight, she looks ethereal.
Drago leans forward and scoops her up. She nuzzles into his neck, nibbling and licking up and down as he moves toward the lifts to bring us up to the penthouse.
“Are you two going to fuck me? I could use some dragon cocks in me,” she slurs.
I snort. “The only thing you're getting tonight is a hot shower and water.”
The pout on her face would be adorable if she weren’t high out of her mind.
“Promise me,” she whispers.
“Promise what, rakkaani?” I ask, catching Drago’s eyes.
“Promise me you’ll forgive me.”
Drago
As we step into the lift, Ava shifts in my arms and sends a devastating pout toward Shadow. I’m shaking with anger at this point, angry that she put Shadow in a position to be triggered, angry that someone gave her Eufori, but mostly angry that something drove her to get high and she won’t share with us. But when she asks for forgiveness, the anger in me falters and I worry that the forgiveness she is asking for isn’t just for tonight.
The doors ping, sliding open to reveal the penthouse. My feet move on autopilot toward the bathroom, but Shadow stops me and takes Ava from my arms, jerking his head toward the living room.
“Go. I’ll get her in bed. She’s not going to give us answers tonight,” he says.
Ava is clearly going through something, and it’s not fair to try to interrogate her now. So, I nod and watch the two disappear into the bathroom. The sound of the shower coming on followed by Ava’s tiny yelp at getting dumped in has me smiling. Standing at the window, I look out over the city. My dragon huffs out an annoyed breath; it wants to stretch its wings. It’s been a long time since it was allowed out to play.
“She’s down.” Shadow’s voice pulls me from the window. Turning around to face him, I find him standing in a pair of gray sweats with no shirt, his dark hair still wet from the shower. “She’s going to have one hell of a hangover tomorrow.” He crosses his arms over his chest, those muscles rippling under his tattoos. The deep V cuts into his abs and dips down below those sweats, tempting me, oh, so much.
But instead of ripping those sweats down so I can lick his cock, I let out a long sigh. “Something is going on with her.”
“That’s obvious. The question is, what? She’s never been this closed-off before. I’m worried,” Shadow says as he walks over to me. Looping his arms around my body, he drops his head to my chest. The feeling is comforting, and the tension in my muscles melts away. “I’m supposed to be the mess. Not her,” he says, quietly laughing to mask his anxiety.
My fingers dance over his back, tracing the raised scars under his tattoos. “You aren’t a mess.”
“Why was she asking for forgiveness?” he asks.
I don’t answer him. The silence elongates as we hold each other tight, as if we are afraid letting go means the momentary peace we found in mating will be shattered and the world will crash down around us.
THIRTY-TWO
Shadow,
What I’m going to ask is incredibly unfair.
And I am so sorry for that, given how hard you’ve worked to heal.
How hard you are still working to heal.
– Ava
Ava
(“Exile” – Taylor Swift)
When sleep finally leaves me the next morning, my head is cracked in two. I barely make it to the bathroom before the contents of my stomach are heaved up into the toilet. I wait a few moments before slowly standing and grabbing the mouthwash. I don’t bother looking at myself in the mirror. In the distance, I hear the coffee start up. Taking a deep breath, I make my way out to the kitchen, ready for my interrogation. Only, it’s not Shadow or Drago standing there.
Astrea’s long hair hangs loosely down her back, the waves messy and uncontrolled. Her curvy body is dressed in a sweatshirt and leggings. I watch as she rolls up the sleeves of her sweatshirt before turning around and offering me a smile. “I was wondering if I would have to drag you out of bed or if coffee would summon you.”
I chuckle. “Coffee can summon me from even the deepest pit of Hell.” She slides a steaming mug toward me. “What are you doing here, Astrea?”
She grabs her own mug and motions to the couch, where she sits down with her feet tucked under her. “Our mates were seemingly worried about us and thought some girl time was needed.” It’s the first time I notice that she looks exhausted, her dark circles matching mine. A heavy sigh flows out of her body before she takes a sip of the coffee.
“What’s going on?” I ask, folding myself up in the chair opposite her. It hasn’t been that long since we last saw each other.
It takes her a while before she responds, her eyes distant, looking out the large window across from us. “I think our families underestimated what it would mean for this power to wake.” She pulls her green eyes to me. “They greatly underestimated it, Ava. The more I train with it, the more it takes hold, and I know Ciaran sees it.”
I don’t say anything, because truly, what can I? That dark magic that flows through her isn’t something any of us truly understand, aside from maybe Kallen. So, instead, I put my mug down on the coffee table and lean forward. “It sounds like we need a girls’ day of movies and pizza.”
She smiles sadly but nods in agreement. “You aren’t going to tell me what’s going on with you?”
My heart breaks a little, desperate to let her in on why I’m so upset but knowing nothing good can come from sharing.
“You know, Hansley used to get like that, when she saw something. Something that scared her.” I stay quiet, my eyes trained on the floor so she can’t take anything from them. “Ava, in the end, that killed her. Don’t make my sister's mistake. We can help, if you’ll let us.”
“Your sister was a seer, so you above all should know and understand just why I can’t say anything. One wrong word, one wrong conversation, and it can all go up in flames,” I try to explain.
She shakes her head sadly. “If we can change it for the bad, why can’t we change it the way we want it to go?”
“It doesn’t work that way, Astrea, you know that. Please, please, don’t push me on this. I’m already barely hanging on. I don't want to keep denying you this information. So, please, stop asking.” My voice cracks, tight with tears threatening to pour over.
For a moment, I worry she won’t let it drop, but in the end, she gathers me up in her arms for a hug and a promise that she won’t push. For the rest of the night, she gives me what I’ve desperately needed: a moment's rest to forget what is hunting us.
After the Eufori incident, we fall into a strange routine of fucking, working, and cuddling. But my anxiety is always there, clawing at me, demanding a way out. Astrea’s words are also haunting me now. It’s eating me alive, and I know I don’t have long before I lose my mind trying to keep it all at bay. I can see why Shadow used drugs to deal with his emotions; it’s easier than sitting in them all the time. Drowning in them.
Shadow and Drago rotate who is with me whenever I work at the club, despite the assurance from my brother that the wards will hold. Drago doesn’t let me return to his club, though he disappears often at night, coming home with cracked knuckles and blood that isn’t his own. Shadow is always the one to go to him first, taking care of him alone. It’s time I often wish I could intrude on, if only to spend the precious few moments I have left with them in their presence.
Drago must have left this morning only a few hours after he got in, the side of his bed long cold by the time I roll over and reach for him. Shadow pulls me against his bare chest instead, and I enjoy the warmth. It’s these moments that make me endlessly thankful for how Shadow has evolved during our time together. He has developed a softer side, a side that he refused to have prior to our mating. Cuddling was something he never allowed before, and now, he can’t keep his hands off me. This will make it so much worse when it all happens.
Tears threaten to spill as the intrusive thought pushes its way into my happy moment. It makes me angry, that my mind is refusing to shut the fuck up. Refusing to give me this. I’m giving up everything else, fucking give me this.
“You got tense, what's wrong?” Shadow’s voice breaks through my thoughts. I go to open my mouth to pour out some excuse, but he covers it with his tattooed hand instead. “I don’t want a lie, so if you aren’t ready to tell me, don’t say anything.”
The breath whooshes out of me and I only nod. Neither of us say another word, and I can appreciate that. Because if he had asked me again, I don’t think I could have held back.
THIRTY-THREE
Kallen,
Fuck, I hope this finds you. I instructed Samhain to give it to you, but I can’t be sure it made it.
I never thought I would be looking to you as someone to help my family.
But here we are. I’m trusting you.
– Ava
Ava
(“Dangerous Hands” – Austin Giorgio)
When we wake up the next morning, I slip quietly from the blankets, my skin feeling tight. I stand looking out over the city. I wrap my arms around my body, fingers digging into my sides. When Shadow’s presence moves up behind me, my need to feel him overpowers me.
I spin toward him. “I need you.” It’s all I have to say. His eyes go gold as he drops to his knees. “You look beautiful on your knees for me,” I whisper, my voice sounding like smoke. He licks his lips but doesn’t say anything. I step back from him, dropping my satin robe so my naked body is silhouetted against the city landscape.
I watch the hunger flit across Shadow’s face as he sees my sex bared to him. His eyes rake over my naked body, snagging for only a moment on that brutal scar before meeting my eyes.
I back toward the couch until it hits the backs of my knees, then drop down on the edge of it. Beckoning him forward with two fingers, I spread my legs in invitation. “Crawl.”
He has no hesitation as he follows my instructions until he is directly between my spread thighs. I lift his chin with my fingers. His eyes are still blazing golden. “In here, I am in charge. That means you do nothing without my permission. If I tell you to do something and you don’t understand, you ask me.” I stroke his black hair as I talk. “Do you understand?”
“Yes,” he breathes.
I cock my eyebrow. “Yes, what?”
“Mistress.”
A wide smile splits my face. “Good boy. And how do we stop if you need to?”
“I don’t need that,” he growls.
“You might not, but I do. I feed from your magic, Shadow. If things become too much, I need to know,” I explain. “And if you can’t do this, we won’t ever be able to be alone. And I want time alone with both my mates. So, please. For me.”
Shadow still has little to no regard for his own safety and self-preservation. I worry that part of him hopes I’ll feed a little too deeply and he won’t walk away from it. I know he isn't using Eufori anymore, nor is he doing self-harm, but coping skills like those do not go away overnight. He still talks in his sleep, still cries out for the mother he lost, still holds onto that blame like a scarlet letter.
The silence stretches on, those golden eyes never leaving my silver ones, an array of emotions passing over them.
“Okay,” he says. “Red.”
“And if you can’t speak?”
He growls low. “My dragon won’t let it get to that point,” he says with conviction.
Narrowing my eyes, I debate on if I want to argue the point, but instead, I just nod. “Strip,” I command. He does so without question, shucking his shirt off quickly.
“May I stand, mistress?” he asks.
I smile widely. “Good boy, asking. Yes. Stand and take your pants off. After that, kneel again.” He moves without hesitation. His thick cock bobs out, and I salivate at the sight. Before he can kneel, I stop him with my hand splayed across the rippled muscles of his abdomen before taking his thick cock into my mouth. The salty taste permeates my senses. He groans low but keeps his hands at his sides as I take him in and out of my mouth lazily, fingers creeping up before I grip his hips hard and pick up the pace, fucking his length with my mouth.
“Fuck. Av—I mean, mistress, please. Please.” He’s begging so quickly, coming undone so rapidly. This Shadow is new to me, vulnerable and needy.
I pull off briefly. “What do you need?”
I watch his hands flex and realize he’s holding back from fisting my hair. He wants to touch me. The bond in my chest purrs against his dragon. “Tell me, rakkaani. What do you need right now?” I ask again, adding force to my tone.
“I need to come down your throat, please. I need to fuck myself in your face. Please, please, please.” His begging is my undoing. My pussy is flooding down my legs.
“Yes. Take it, Shadow, you have permission.”
His nostrils flare, no doubt smelling how turned on I am, and he fists my pink hair in his hand and shoves his length back into my mouth. His pace is relentless. Spit and tears streak down my face as I gag on him repeatedly. The whole time, I’m dying to taste his release. It doesn’t take long before I feel him tense, but instead of coming down my throat, he pulls out and covers my face in his release. While it was hot as fuck, he broke a rule, and the smile I give him is nothing short of savage.
Shadow
I knew I was fucked the moment I made the choice to come on her face. But I need the punishment I know will come. Since I stopped self-harming, I need something else to scratch that itch. And I’m running out of space to be tattooed. This feels healthier, like a way to get what I need while still facing what I’ve been running from. At least, that's what the therapist I’ve been seeing keeps saying. She calls it “harm reduction,” a replacement of one behavior with another. Both might be slightly destructive, but one is less dangerous than the other.
