I had gone from feeling it every moment we were together to believing the necromancers had completely taken it away from me.
Why had I ever believed I needed to fearhimfinding out what they had done to me? He was the only one in the entire gods damned world who would not judge me—would not be disgusted, no matter what they had done to me.
I made the decision right then and there that if they made me a virgin again, I would only let one person unmake me.
The fates had brought us to Cold Garden in the middle of a snowstorm—to a brothel again—just like where it had all begun. I would go where they led.
I would do my duty, and he could do his.But tonight, I thought.He is just Io, and I am just Sera. We are not the queen and the king's brother. And I will make him fucking see me.
I sighed softly, though I knew he heard me when tension seemed to ripple through him.
I leaned back in the tub, arching my back so that the tips of my breasts rose out of the water. I made a show of washing my hair with my hands. "Oh, gods," I breathed. "This feels so good."
"Sera," he warned in a deep, strained voice.
"What?" I asked innocently. "I haven't had a bath in nearly two days, and this water is so...deliciously hot." My voice was deeper, husky. I almost laughed at how ridiculous it sounded.
Io loosed a long breath, shoulders rising. “Sera, please.”
"Please?" I said, lifting one long, shapely leg from the bubbles with a splash. I ran my hands down it slowly. "Please what, Io?"
I saw him close his eyes in the window's reflection. "Please, fucking stop, Sera," he ground out, punctuating each word with an angry pause.
“And if I don’t?” I asked, watching his closed lids in the glass, daring him to open them and meet my gaze.
He kept them shut for another heartbeat. When they opened again, they were alive with unholy fire. Something wicked danced in their depths as he finally met my stare and held it.
I was transfixed by those eyes in the glass—by the feel of him in the room, his presence so large it seemed to replace the very air with the fiery scent of him.
His anger was palpable. I could feel its weight, pushing me down.
I didn’t shrink away from it, though. I reveled in it. I felt myself wishing I could open myself and take that power into me until I was near to bursting with it.
I rose from the bath at the same moment he finally turned around.
I felt the water slide down my body in streams as his hands balled in fists at his side. His jaw was a tight harsh line, his nostrils flared.
He was really, really angry at me. "Why?" he demanded coldly. "Why are you doing this to me? You know that we can't....Ican't..." His voice lowered to barely more than a growl as his words trailed off, chest heaving. I had never seen him so angry—so close to losing control. Even in the moments on the castle roof, when the entire building shook, he had not looked quite as feral as he did then.
The room had darkened, the lanterns slightly muted. I couldn't see any of those shadows streaming off his body or any of his fire other than in his eyes, but I could feel his magic and the fury radiating off him in waves.
"Why are you doing this?" he demanded again.
"Because…” My chest tightened as all my bravado seemed to leak out in a single moment. “Because I need you." My voice broke on the last two words as my traitorous eyes filled with tears. My bottom lip quivered so much I had to bite down on it to stop the shaking that betrayed me.
He took a step toward me—his eyes like twin points of midnight, flared to life with black, living fire. They burned like a window into the dark fires of Chronus, and I thought I might tumble through and be consumed if I did not look away.
"Sera, I can't," he said again. The words sounded like they were wrenched from deep inside him. The flames in his eyes flared brighter, stoking the fires still burning in me back to life.
"You can, Io," I said. My shoulders rose and fell with the force of my labored breathing. I felt like something had broken in me, and I might actually die if he didn't touch me. "Please," I begged in a near-whisper.
And then he did. He crossed the space in two long strides. I reached out for him, feeling something inside me seem to cave-in as he slid one hand around the back of my neck, fisting it in my hair.
The other hand went to my thigh, pulling my leg up as he pressed his hips into me. Even through the material of his pants, I could feel him, hard and hot against my flesh.
"I can't," he growled again, even as he covered my mouth with his, thrusting his tongue inside. He tasted sweet and familiar. I drank in the feel of him, strong and warm against me. I felt like I had been dying of thirst, and he was my salvation.
He pulled my hair roughly, tipping my head back and baring my throat so that he could run his teeth and tongue down my neck.
