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“My legs are locking your arms and hands in place. This limits your entire upper body. As for your lower half ... well I’m sure you know precisely how I’m preventing that from moving,” she says, licking her bottom lip before biting it slightly.
I close my eyes, halting the moan I instinctively want to make. Suddenly, the door clicks shut, and we both snap our heads in its direction. No one has entered, which means someone was watching us.
And the queen is currently straddling me. Shit.
I look to her for a reaction. As if unbothered, she slides the dagger back into the sleeve at her thigh with a flirtatious smile on her lustrous lips.
“Let’s get going for breakfast. Pyke hates it when I’m late.” She hops to her feet with the ease and grace of a cat.
Stepping to the side, she offers me a hand up. I prop myself on my elbows, debating on accepting or pushing her hand away. My instincts are screaming for me to run far away from her, but there’s a faint tug on my heart. A pull I haven’t felt in a very long time.
I slide my hand into hers. A tingle skirts across my palm as my calloused hand connects with her smooth skin. This time, I don’t pull away. I tell myself it’s nothing, but a small part of me feels the shifting of tides. An event the magnitude of which is only known by the fates.
The queen helps pull me to a stand, and I brush the dirt from my pants. Despite her playfulness, the air between us still hangs tense after our altercation. I long to break it.
“Your cook is an odd fellow,” I say, walking past her to pick up my wooden sword from the ground.
An abrupt jab to my ass has me spinning around to face her. The queen stands with her wooden sword outstretched in front and a lighthearted grin on her face.
Gods, that smile is like the sunrise.
Bringing the sword to her side, she strides over to me, invading my space. “Watch how you speak about my chef, or you will find yourself on your back again.”
Looking down, I study her. The busted lip I gave her breaks up the smile. The bruise under her eye and cuts along her cheek mar her pale, freckled face.
And she’s still one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever met.
Her eyes fall to my lips as her smile fades. She shoves past, pressing her shoulder into me. The intoxicating scent of roses follows her toward the door as she hurries away. I scoop up the wooden sword from the ground and place it back on the table beside hers.
By the time we make it to the dining hall, it’s alive with conversations and greetings. Everyone bidding good morning to their queen as we enter.
The queen’s eyes land on General Nyx, who’s already sitting at their table. They nod at each other before her delicate hand grazes the back of my arm, tingles erupting in its wake.
“Grab a plate and go sit with Nyx. I’ll be right back,” she says, leaning in close.
I look down at her, confusion furrowing my brow. She nudges me along before walking back down the hall. Every sway of her hips oozes confidence, and it’s too tempting to stare as she goes. I force myself to look away.
I walk to the serving table, eyeing the spread before me. Small hands push at my legs as two small children scurry out from under the table. Their laughter makes me laugh as they chase each other through the hall.
My heart drops as I stare at the food, and worry opens a pit in my stomach.
How can the stories about Umbra’s people starving be true?
The table before me is abundant.
I scan the hall as what I know and what I see battle in my mind. The queen’s words about learning the truth ringing in my ears.
She’s good. She already has me questioning myself. But what if this is all just a show for me?
To be safe, I add just enough food to my plate to make it until the next meal. I can’t risk taking anything from the children who call this place home. I’ll have to gather more information later about their supplies to stop guilt from tearing me apart.
As I take a seat at the table, Nyx’s cold, gray eyes scan me.I settle in, and his gaze focuses on my left jaw where the queen punched me. My injured pride has me wanting to look away. I can’t recall the last time someone landed a blow on me while training.
Nyx’s lips pinch tight but can’t contain his laugh. It echoes off the walls. “Welcome to Umbra, Captain,” he declares.
I look back at him in annoyance.
“She got you with her left hook?” he asks, gesturing to my face with his fork.
