“Taste.” The word was a guttural, primitive growl, but she knew what he meant. She dipped her hands between their bodies, pushing into herself, then brought her fingers to Cael’s lips.
It was simultaneously too much and not enough. His cock grinding against her clit, his slick tongue sliding between her fingers, the weight of his powerful body crushing her into the rug.
His muscles tensed, his grunts accelerated, and she could tell he was close.
“Come with me,” he commanded when she removed her fingers from his mouth, then wrapped her arms around him, stroking his scar and wing in tandem again.
“Yes,” was the last word she managed to say as Cael drove against her, a final, mighty thrust, and her body broke into scintillating shivers of heat. She sank her teeth into his shoulder, screaming his name against his sweat-slick skin as he came apart with a shuddering groan, his release soaking through his pants. He gazed down at her, his fangs glinting between parted lips as he fought to catch his breath.
He rolled onto his back and dragged her on top of him. “Holy fucking High Gods, if I don’t get to do that for real soon, I might die.” He tangled his fingers through her curls, kissing the top of her head.
“Dramatic,” she said, then yelped when he nipped her earlobe.
“Promise me,” he whispered.
“Promise you what?” She nuzzled in closer, aftershocks of her orgasm quivering her thighs.
“Promise me you didn’t just do all that because you pity me. That you’re not with me because you’re trying tofixme.”
Xenia’s heart constricted. He was such a fool. She didn’t know how he could eventhinkthat.
She pushed up onto an elbow and poured every ounce of sincerity she could muster into her gaze. “Cael. There’s only one reason I’m with you.” She trailed her hand up his thigh, finding him still half-hard beneath her fingers. “Your enormous coc?—”
He rolled back on top of her, laughing and biting her neck.
There was so much more she could have said. But she didn’t want to spoil this moment of peace. This calm eye in the storm of their circumstances.
But as Cael rolled over and tucked her against him, his breathing growing soft and shallow, Xenia thought to herself that even though she was his light, he washerlight, too.
And that maybe, just maybe, he was starting to believe it.
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
The door to Tristan’s room creaked open and he turned from the window where he’d been watching Ione laughing and drinking with the rebels down by the clocktower.
They hadn’t spoken since the Teles Chrysos leaders had met on the prophecy. In fact, tonight was the first night Tristan had spent in Lebaedia in four days. If Ione could tell he was stalling with his visit to Lodesvale to check on the displaced hospital patients—many of whom had finally begun to heal, thank the Creator—she hadn’t pressed him on it.
“Thought maybe you could use an ear to bend.” Trophonios flashed his white fangs and waved a bottle of Aguaver. “You left the other night before we had a chance to toast.”
Tristan gestured to a canvas chair, encouraging Trophonios to sit. “What, exactly, were we supposed to be toasting?”
Trophonios crossed a long leg over his knee and thunked two tumblers onto the table. He poured several fingers of the translucent spirit into each glass, then handed one to Tristan and clinked it with his own.
“To uncertainty.” His teal eyes twinkled. “A more powerful force than absolute knowledge.”
Tristan lifted his glass, letting the liquid burn down his throat. It did little to soothe his jangled nerves and simmering anxiety. “I thought hearing the full prophecy would make me feel better. Would make me more sure of my next steps.”
Trophonios regarded him carefully, resting his own tumbler on his knee. “And I’m guessing the exact opposite occurred.”
Tristan nodded, picking at the feathers of the wing folded over his lap. “It doesn’t seem the other leaders agree. Especially not Ione.”
“You must not judge her too harshly. When one has been walking a path for as long as she has, it’s difficult to notice it branching.”
Tristan’s ears perked up. “So you don’t agree with her then? That she and I are fated to one another? Supposed to unite the territories under our rule?”
“I maintain precisely what I said in that room. That what those words actually mean matters little if we cannot all agree on their interpretation.”
Tristan took another sip of aguaver. “So if I disagree, our cause is doomed. Is that what you’re saying?”
