I knew she had her suspicions about me, though she never voiced them. About all the times I ventured into the Other without her, more determined to find a way to control its power than ever. So far, I thought I had managed to hide the touch of Chaos magic clingingto me upon my return, but that might have been an illusion. It was never easy to tell who had the upper hand in our exhilarating game. And I could not afford to lose.
“Will you forgive all my sins?” I asked, trapping her with my arms, our faces inches apart, her breath mingling with mine. “Or help me commit a few more?”
I didn’t kiss her, letting the tension between us sharpen impossibly. Therewaspleasure to be had in anticipation, in the way my body burned with need for her, so close and yet so far. When her lips opened in a small, inviting sigh, I buried my hand in her hair, stilling her.
“What game are you playing with me, Baradaz?” I demanded, my voice a low growl.
She swallowed, something nearly desperate flaring in her eyes as they flicked down to my mouth, her next exhale a trembling caress over my skin. “A game of want. And need.”
Letting go of her and straightening up to bring some distance between us cost me more than I was comfortable with. But it was never wise to give in to her too easily. She was a demanding lover. And sometimes I needed her to come to me.
“We’re taking too many risks,” I said matter-of-factly. It was true. While not many braved the shadows of my tower, there was one other who did. Despite all my provocations, the thought of Aramaz walking in at a moment like this filled me with a terrifying dread.
Baradaz blinked up at me, frustration on her striking features, those red lips pursing. “Don’t worry so much.”
“I’m sleeping with my brother’s betrothed,” I retorted, suddenly annoyed by her lack of concern. While I appreciated—and often admired—her remarkable lack of guilt, sometimes I felt an odd apprehension about it. “I think it’s quite understandable that I worry.”
My words irritated her. Mentioning my brother was against therules of our pleasant little arrangement. But then, so was meeting outside of the Other, and she broke that particular rule all the time.
It was not as if I could ever forget that she was my brother’s destined spouse, her being at Aramaz’s side constantly, the two of them presiding over each Council meeting as king and queen. Every moment between us was no more than a sliver of stolen time. And I was no more than a damn thief. The strange feeling of unease at my actions had become a constant companion. That my brother relied on my support more than ever before, that I had become a trusted member of his Council, made it worse.
“My bond with Aramaz is my concern, not yours,” Baradaz declared, her expression fierce. She closed her eyes briefly, breathing in deeply. One of her fingers touched my lips, quelling any protest I might have uttered. “And now forget about it. Forget about it all.”
She rose, capturing my mouth in a kiss, her hands in my hair.
“It only matters that I am here now,” she murmured, pulling me down on the bed with her. “With you.”
Like every time, the sweet heat of her caused me to swallow all my doubts as she divested me of my clothes between deep, lingering kisses. She was right. This was the only thing that mattered.
CHAPTER
36
Rada
Inever felt alone on my little farm in the middle of nowhere.
In the beginning, I cherished the silence. Escaping Lyrheim’s oppressive atmosphere—a constant reminder of all I had lost and all the people I had only disappointed—was a relief. I was finally free from the pretense, free from all the lies. The wildfire coursing through my veins finally quieted.
At night, I didn’t dream of a different life. Instead, I lay down, weary yet content after a long day’s work. It was in the mornings, as the first light of dawn brushed the horizon, in those hazy moments before waking, when the impossible seemed tantalizingly within reach. When I half remembered, half dreamed. Of him.
This was one of the good dreams. One where my mind conjured every sensation with such perfect clarity—the comforting warmth of his taller body enveloping mine, the intoxicatingly dark scent of him teasing my senses, the gentle rhythm of his breath tickling the shell of my ear—that I wished I could hold on to the illusion forever.
Every sensation. I smiled as I felt something hard pressing againstmy ass. Desire pulsed in my abdomen, leaving me warm and tingly. I pushed back immediately, eager for more. The breathing at my ear quickened, a large hand gliding up over my hip, finding the gap where my tunic had ridden up in my sleep, revealing a sliver of skin.
A groan escaped him when I rolled my hips against him in a languid rhythm. His touch grew bolder, dipping under the fabric of my underthings. I parted my legs instinctually, my entire body humming with the muscle memory of a thousand remembered caresses. Sweet anticipation sent a shiver through me as he took the unspoken invitation, his hand sliding between my thighs. A needy moan escaped me as he languidly explored me. I shifted my hips, silently willing him to continue.Lyr, I could already feel that first glorious moment of him pushing inside me. Filling me in exactly the right way. It was just what I needed after the horrors of yesterday—
And it was utterly real.
I froze, staring at the sunlight streaming through the kitchen window, muscles locked, my breath hissing through suddenly clenched teeth.
I wasn’t in my bed, lost in a pleasurable dream, but in the main room, Noctis curled around me on the narrow cot in front of the fireplace. The dim memory of crawling under the blankets with him and cuddling against him in the middle of the night resurfaced in my memory.
“Are you alright, Baradaz?” Noctis’s voice was raspy, full of sleepy desire. He had stopped moving at the tension in my body.
For one long, indecisive moment, I was tempted to just do it. To let our bodies join, even if our magic was gone forever. It would be so easy. A simple “Yes” to assure him I wanted this, canting my hips up a little, and we could lose ourselves in the warmth of each other.
Yet somehow, I couldn’t. I couldn’t take that last step that wouldplunge us both over the edge, that would change things between us again irrevocably. Instead, I lay there, unable to speak, trembling.
