He stepped forward, silent as death.The muscles in his legs flexed as he dropped to his knees beside the tub.Steam curled around him in an ethereal haze.He reached out, trailing a single finger over my damp collarbone.
“Running from me, little flame?”
I smiled, sighing softly.“I needed to wash off the filth of last night.”
His dark brow arched.“Filth?”
He dipped a hand into the water, creating ripples just above my thigh.Close enough that I could feel the current of his movement, but not his touch.
“That’s not what you were calling it when you were clawing at my back, begging me to ruin you again and again.”
I met his gaze with a challenging tilt of my chin, my mouth open to retort, but he was already moving.
In one fluid motion, he slipped into the water with me.His weight sent waves crashing over the rim as he settled in front of me, water sloshing onto the stone floor.He clamped his hands around my ankles, dragging me forward until my chest was flush against his back, skin to burning skin.
“I like this,” he said, his touch tracing patterns over my bare thigh.“You wet and trembling beneath my hands.”His grip tightened.“Do you tremble because you want me, or because you fear me?”
“Both,” I admitted.
He turned his head to look at me over his shoulder, his smile was razor-sharp.“Good.”
I reached for the cloth, lathering it with soap and dragging it over his shoulders, tracing slow circles down his back.Next, I ran my hands through the long strands of his hair, working the oil into his scalp with a pressure I knew would drive him wild.
He groaned, low and deep.A sharp jolt went straight to my core.
“You know,” I said, digging my nails deeper into his scalp, earning another pleased groan, “I never thanked you for the balcony.”
“You never need to thank me, little flame.”He twisted his body in the water to face me, my hands sliding from his hair to rest on his arms.My heart raced at the intensity of his eyes.
“There is nothing I wouldn’t do for you.Nothing I wouldn’t tear down or build up to see you smile.”
Something warm unfurled in my chest.I smiled, my cheeks flushing from more than just the heat of the water.
“That’s the one.”His own answering smile transformed his face from beautiful to breathtaking.“That’s the one that makes me want to burn the world down just to keep it on your face.”
For a moment we just stared at each other, his words settling between us like a promise.Then he shifted, the water rippling as he turned back around, positioning himself once more with his back against my chest.
His hands found my legs, stroking the length of them with reverent touches that made my skin come alive.
But my mind was already racing ahead to the conversation I’d been avoiding.I resumed lathering soap through his hair while I gathered every scrap of courage I possessed.
“Dalkhan,” I began softly, already almost losing the nerve.“Tell me about what happened with the mortals.”
Every muscle in his powerful frame went rigid.The warmth of the bath was suddenly suffocating.
Heat rose beneath his skin, but before he could speak, I quickly added, “I mean, we’ve all heard the stories.But I want to hear it fromyou.”
Slowly, degree by agonising degree, his muscles eased, if only slightly.
For what felt like an eternity, he was silent.I continued washing his hair while my heart thundered.The only sounds were our breathing and the gentle lap of water against stone.
Then, in a voice that was softer and infinitely darker than I had ever heard from him, he began to tell me.
“We welcomed the mortals,” Dalkhan said, staring into the water.“We offered them land to live on.To build and grow.”His nostrils flared, the strong line of his jaw tightening.“But it was not enough.”
He rose from the tub, water dripping down the ridges of his body, glistening along the hardened planes of muscle.His movements were controlled, but barely veiled rage simmered beneath his skin.
I followed, my legs unsteady as I wrapped myself in soft linen.
