“Many,” he said at last, his tone rough with something unspoken. “But you are not one of them.”
I turned to him, searching his profile for the truth behind the words. His jaw tightened as though holding back more than he’d let escape.
“And you? Do you regret coming to Radaan?”
My lips twitched into a bitter smile. “My only regret is settling for the prince when I could have had the king.”
His mantle caught my eye, glinting. My hand lifted, fingers brushing the intricate links. His gaze dropped, tracking the motion.
“I would not have taken another bride,” he muttered, his voice laced with bitterness. “I’ve been down that road. It’s a miserable affair.”
“With the wrong person.”
His eyes snapped to mine, piercing and unyielding. “Sometimes, we don’t get the person we want.”
A single link fell free beneath my fingers, the quiet sound like a challenge to the silence between us.
His breath came measured, deliberate, though his nostrils flared as I undid another link. Chain by chain, I peeled the weight from his shoulders, freeing him from his obligation piece by piece.
The mantle clanked against the moss as I set it down, ringing in accusation, calling out for him to put a stop to this. It was heavier than I’d expected. It wasn’t just gold, but something far more profound—the yoke of his duty, the burden of a kingdom. My hands trembled as I turned back to him, my chest tight with emotion.
What I wanted,the king of Radaancouldn’t give.
He let me struggle with it, either unable to relieve himself of the yoke, or needing to see me take it from him. My fingers twisted in my skirt as I fought to steady them, his quiet focus never leaving me.
“Kiss me.”
His eyelids fell shut, his face screwed in anguish. The line of his jaw twinged, as though he were wrestling an internal battle.
When those cornflower blue eyes returned to mine, something broke in him. I knew I had won.
He reached for me, his hand warm as it tangled in the hair at the nape of my neck, drawing me closer. I melted into him, our lips brushing in a kiss so tender it ached. This was not the desperate, consuming heat we had shared before. This was sorrow incarnate—a language of everything unsaid and every promise we could never keep.
He pulled me down, the soft press of the earth at my back as he curled beside me, leaning over me like a shield. His lips hovered, warm and hesitant, brushing mine with a question and a plea. His breath, spiced with wine, fanned over my face as his mouth trailed over my cheek, pausing to capture a tear sliding free.
Anger burned, hot and wild. This wasn’t fair. We weren’t fair. My fingers trembled as they fumbled for the buttons of his overcoat. One by one, they gave way, releasing the tension beneath my touch. His lips found mine again, this time firmer, hungrier, as though answering the fury in my grasp.
I tugged the hem of his tunic free, and his breath hitched as I slid my palms underneath, pressing against bare, taut skin. His muscles tensed, his body betraying him even as his mind resisted. He froze, shivering when I moved my hands higher, tracing the ridges of his stomach.
Breaking the kiss, his head fell forward, forehead brushing mine as his breaths came in shallow bursts. He trembled above me, his restraint pressing down like an unspoken force.
His fear struck me harder than words ever could. The king of Radaan, a man forged in fire and battle, was terrified—of me. My heart shattered under the realization.
Eldeiade’s cruelty ran deep. I hated her with every fiber of my being. How could I fix what she had broken? I couldn’t be his queen, could never right her wrongs.
I pushed against his chest, and his startled gaze locked with mine. Pain flickered there, raw and unguarded, but he allowed me to strip away his tunic and overcoat.
Kallias kneeled before me, bare to the moonlight, his hands braced on his thighs. Shadows softened his form, but the power in his frame was unmistakable. Light hairs scattered across his chest, rising and falling with his uneven breaths. My eyes wandered lower, tracing the hard planes of hisabdomen, the dip of strength along his sides, and the trail of dark hair that disappeared beneath his belt.
He tensed, and I looked up, meeting the vulnerability in his gaze. I despised the doubt I found there, the fear that I might push him away. Reaching out, I pressed a hand to his chest, urging him back until he lay under me. His hands clung to my waist, and when I tried to pry them off, he shook his head.
“Let me touch you.” The plea was husky with need.
“I’m not going anywhere, Kallias,” I murmured, leaning forward, settling my weight along his hips.
“Elohios, spare me.”
He groaned, a low, guttural sound that stirred something primal within me. I kissed the edge of his jaw, trailing downward to his chest, tasting the salt of my own tears mingled with the faint musk of his skin.
