~ Henry ~

Gods, I hated yellow. And Asher. And Bellamy. And the nasty little mortal princess.

My black shoes reflected the candlelight and smacked loudly against the hideous yellow tile as I made my way towards where the servant said Genevieve Windsor’s chambers were located. All the while, I pictured the way Bellamy had held Asher, the serenity that was there behind the annoyance.

He loved her. The prick really loved her. And now we were all forced to watch and see all that we did not have. With Ranbir and Nona, it had been different. They were secretive, only really showing their love in small ways or in private. While even I could sense their undeniable chemistry and genuine connection, the mere recollection of them together enough to bring a tear to my eye, it still was nothing like Asher and Bellamy.

Even before Asher had finally given in, we all knew they were unavoidable. Watching her fall apart had slowly torn Bellamy to shreds, and each of us had monitored him as we traveled, making sure he slept and ate and maintained communication with Damon. He barely breathed when she was not around. 

Getting to know Asher had forced us all to truly understand why he loved her so deeply. There was something about her that was intoxicating. She was not just funny or kind, she was like the first star winking into existence within the bleak black sky. 

Together, the two of them would not only change the world, but they would change one another. Every smile or new inside joke. All the times I saw him leave her tent in the mornings with the most ridiculous smile on his face when we all knew he was not having sex with her. Each instance that he would smirk after she said something silently to him. It all added up to the unavoidable truth.

They were desperately in love, and I was desperately jealous.

I wanted that love. Someone who cared about me enough to burn the world to dust. Everyone thought Asher’s exigent need to save the world meant she cared less for Bellamy, but I could see that it was the exact opposite. Asher knew what she had in him—she valued that love she was gifted so much that she felt the need to earn it. I would do the same if I were awarded such a luxury, but instead, I stood in front of an obnoxiously yellow door prepared to beg for the forgiveness of the most vexing mortal to walk Alemthian.

At my side, my fists opened and closed, clenching with pent up annoyance—with sorrow and rage. And then, because I was convinced my night could not get any worse, I lifted one of those fists and knocked on the door three times. Hard.

A muffled groan sounded from the other side of the door, which was immediately preceded by shuffling. Before I could so much as prepare a speech that did not involve me insulting her, Genevieve whipped open the door. She wore only a pale blue slip, her arms and legs bare. Her hair was wild, the curls mirroring spun gold in the candlelight. But it was her eyes, brown with flecks of green, that stole my attention.

There was so much fury there. Such fiery passion. Unintentionally, I wondered what that sort of burn would taste like upon my tongue.

And then the wretched thing spoke.

“What are you doing here?” While it was a question, the words came out like a sort of hissed insult, as if I were scum upon her shoe. Every ounce of my control flew out of me then, and suddenly, I was preparing for a fight.

“Well, Your Highness, I was hoping to find the bathing chamber, but it seems someone already took a shit in this one from the look of what is in front of me.” Instinctively, my arms crossed, protecting the now-pounding heart within my chest. Adrenaline flooded my system, a spark of excitement tilting my lips up in a smirk. I needed this.

A gasp of horror left her, and then she was slamming the door closed, the speed of it almost faster than my foot. Almost. 

“Gotta be quicker than that, little mortal. Now let me in.” 

Brown irises flicked down to my foot then up to my face, and suddenly, she was running. It took me a few seconds to register that she was actually attempting to escape from me, but then my instincts kicked in and I chased her deeper into her room.

My moment of hesitation cost me, because Genevieve was already at her towering yellow vanity and armed with an all-black dagger by the time I made it to her. While I was prepared for many things after becoming close with Asher, including a punch to the face, I was still not ready for the mortal princess to then stick the tip of said dagger to my stomach. The point threatened to cut through my skin from the force as she stepped closer, the movement making one of the thin straps of her slip fall down her shoulder. 

“You disgusting, foul creature. If you do not get away from me right this instant, I will gut you where you stand and drop your head at the feet of the fae princess you insist on drooling over like a lost puppy.”

While she spoke, Genevieve’s body seemed to gravitate towards mine, each word bringing her quickly rising and falling chest closer. She smelled of soap, like the clean scent of summer. Like days beneath the sun with little to no cares in the world. Like the sort of freedom that was only memory now. 

And maybe it was the fact that she did not cower before me despite knowing I possessed magic. Or perhaps it was the way her eyes blazed even hotter than those summer days as that strap continued to hang low upon her arm. Whatever it was, I could not stop my eyes from dragging to her lips. Nor could I think of anything other than the fact that I was starving.

“Fuck it,” I rasped just before I kissed the bitchy mortal.

And, gods, if her lips were not the cure to my hunger. While I knew she would kiss me back, the need radiating from her twin to my own, I still could not escape the surprise that hummed in my chest when she melted into me. The soft give of her mouth was all I felt before her dagger clattered to the floor. Her groan dipped between my lips just as her tongue did, and then I could do nothing but consume her.

Bending my knees, I tucked both of my hands beneath her slip and gripped her ass as I lifted her. She was naked below, my middle finger long enough to just barely sample the wet warmth between her legs. Eager to capitalize on this lapse in judgment, I swiftly made my way to her chamber door, kicking it closed with the toe of my shoe.

All the while, my fingers dug into her flesh and my tongue battled with hers. She was stronger than I would have thought, one of her small hands squeezing my throat hard enough to limit my oxygen. But it was the other hand, the one that expertly undid my cloak and separated the buttons of my white tunic, that garnered my attention—my appreciation.

I let her work, releasing her lips and enjoying the subtle moans I earned as I trailed my tongue down the column of her neck. My teeth grazed the skin above her collarbone just as she undid the last button on my shirt, exposing my chest. Quickly—urgently—I balanced her on my right arm, shaking my left free of the cotton confines. 

“Drop me, and I will kill you.”

Responding to her breathy threat with only a growl, I let her fall down my torso before catching her with my now-bare left arm, flicking my right hand to get the final bit of my shirt off. Her answering screech was cut off by my mouth upon her, the kiss bruising in its force. 

Let her feel the pain of it, the stubborn nightmare of a girl.

Long nails cut into the freckled skin above my ribs, digging so deeply that I could feel blood beading in their wake. Gods, it felt good to be met with such force. With a groan of pleasure, I responded by sliding one of my hands off her ass and shoving it between her legs. The instant my skin made contact with her wet center, her thighs gripped tighter around my waist, a moan of pleasure preceding the fall of her head against my shoulder.

I dipped into her without mercy, the same way she seemed to exist daily. I pumped two of my fingers in, because if she could take in my towering frame without cowering then she could damn well take more than a single digit. And take she did. The princess opened for me like her pussy was made for my flesh. Both fingers slid into her with ease, a soft shout of ecstasy forcing her to bite down upon my shoulder. I did not want her silence though. No, I wanted her fucking screams.

So I walked us back to the vanity and unceremoniously dropped her upon the top of it, watching as her mouth opened in a gasp when products crashed to the hideous green rug. Ripping my fingers out of her, I hastily shoved them between her parted lips. My free hand made quick work of my trousers, my cock so hard that freeing it hurt. But nothing would stop me from feeling that shooting star of need within me when Genevieve sucked on my two fingers, cleaning them of her desire.

Really, there was no coming back from such a thing. I did not even bother to remove my trousers from my ankles or my shoes from my feet before I tugged my digits from her mouth and grabbed the hem of her slip, pulling it off of her in one swoop. Those beautiful, disastrous curls bounced as the last of her clothing came off, baring her body to me. Every bit of her creamy skin was on display, her small breasts tipped with peaked rosy nipples and the tiny blonde curls between her thighs a beacon.

“Spread your legs,” I ordered, my eyes finding hers once more. While she looked ready to burst from the tension and lust that seemed ready to end me as well, Genevieve still scowled up at me. Her mouth parted, as if to argue, and I simply could not handle the imminent remarks. Which was why I grabbed her thighs, slid her forward, and shoved my cock inside her waiting entrance. 

She really did scream then, and I fervently took in the sight of her falling back against the mirror as she grasped for purchase on the edges of the vanity. Just as her knuckles went white from her desperate grip, I pulled out of her slightly, thrusting back in even harder than the first time. A cry slipped out of her, the sound one of both pain and pleasure. I wanted to pause, to make sure I was not hurting her fragile body, but she was once again faster than I.

“Just like that. Fuck me, Henry.”

When I looked back on that moment, I would recall the sound of my name upon her lips and know it was then that I had finally been awarded the one thing I was horribly jealous of Bellamy for having.

The moment I was cursed with Genevieve.