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“You spent eons loving me. I only had a few short years, and now…” She glanced up at the blue sky. “Now I think I’m afraid of losing you, too.”
“I won’t let that happen.” A protective surge locked his muscles, and his grip on her jaw hardened. “Look at me.”
She lifted her warm brown gaze to his. “I won’t either. I mean it. I want to protect you, too. If you try to stop me, I’ll find a way.”
“I know.” He forced his fingers to relax.
“So you’ll test my gift? You’ll make sure I’m ready for the battle?”
“One can never truly be ready for battle. It’s…” He shut his eyes against an onslaught of images from his past. All the blood he’d spilled in the name of the Order. “But we can prepare.”
“Start now.” She pushed him onto his back, hitched her dress, and straddled his hips. The sun caught strands of curly hair around her head, making them glow like a halo. But she was no angel. A deviousness flickered in her eyes, and she raised her brows haughtily. “I’m ready for your lessons.”
His own brows lifted. “Lessons?”
“Whatever this testing business is, yes?” She tilted her head to the sky and shimmied her shoulders like she was about to take a hit in the heart. “Lay it on me.”
Leaf wanted to laugh at her ignorance, but he was mesmerized by how her body moved. Her dress hugged her breasts, showing him where her nipples were as she jiggled. The long line of her graceful neck always made his mouth water with the need to kiss her there. Her pose felt more like surrendering to him rather than to the testing.
His gaze darted back to her nipples, hardening but not quite stiff. He wondered how long it would take to get them to that point if he took them in his mouth. Nova opened one eye and glanced down at him with a knowing smirk. She knew exactly what he was thinking.
Clarke’s voice came back loud and clear:Who knows what tomorrow will bring?
Tomorrow, the battle would be at their doorstep. He needed her ready to face the blood, violence, and tears. Tomorrow, he might never see her again. His fear of failing, of being anything less than perfect, wound its way into his bones and paralyzed him.
He was surrounded by beauty, and all he could think of was never seeing it again. The mosaic played games in his mind, Crimson’s journey and the centuries he spent tethered to that star. All those journal entries where he pined over his lost love. The heartache. The agony.
To hurt was to know love. He couldn’t regret a single minute of it when she was here with him, and his heart felt like it would burst from his chest.
“Come on, Mister I-want-to-spend-time-with-my-mate. Test me.” A wicked gleam entered her gaze. “Use your magic and draw from mine. See what it does to me.”
“Nova,” he said, voice soft as his gaze flicked to the hallway with the mosaics. “Let’s just spend this time together.”
Nova’s lips pursed, and her jaw did a little side-to-side jig as she gathered her temper. “You won’t test my gift?”
He opened the basket. “I think we should enjoy being together. While we can.”
A slice of hot, peppery defiance cut him through their bond. She reached into the basket, grabbed whatever her hand landed on, and mashed it onto Leaf’s lips. She pushed until juice burst and dripped down his chin.
“Enjoy that,” she said, eyes flashing.
Leaf darted his tongue out and licked the juice from his lips. Berries.
“You want me to test you?” he ground out. “Fine. I’ll test you.”
He gripped her hips and flipped their positions, pushing her against the ground. Her eyes widened at the impact. The jolt was just enough to knock some sense into her. Or so he thought.
Nova reached blindly for another berry. Something red and big, but she didn’t use it. Not yet. She held it out threateningly, challenging him. Pinning her shoulder with one hand, he freed his other and flicked his fingers toward the pool, instructing his mana where to go. Water responded to his call, but he wasn’t fast enough. The next berry slammed into his jaw.
“Tickles,” he teased as the juice ran down his neck. She’d have to do better than berries if she wanted to tempt him into losing control.
Her smile of triumph died as he sent a bubble of water about the size of a bucket through the air and hovered it over her head.
She gasped. “You wouldn’t.”
Oh, yes, he would. His eyebrow arched. He let the bubble rotate and catch the sunlight. The sparkles it left on her face rivaled the stars on her cheeks. His gaze dipped to her soft, sassy lips.
“I have a better idea,” he said, voice rough with lust.
