She blinked. “Looks like it.”
“A hazard of marrying into an agricultural kingdom.” I shook my head. “You’ll need to learn the difference. Spearmint’s sweeter. Smoother. Lighter onthe tongue. Leaves a man wanting more.” My gaze slid down her frame, settling on her mouth.
“This,” I said, lifting a darker leaf, “is peppermint. Stronger. Sharper. Bolder.” I held it up between us. “See the veins? Deeper. The taste stays—but it cuts first.”
“They grow so close,” she breathed, her tongue skimming her lower lip. Eyes locked on mine. “How can you tell them apart?”
“Practice, my queen.” I leaned in, advancing on her.
She lost her balance and tumbled back with a startled laugh. I smiled, crushing the leaf between my fingers, hovering above her. My mantle spilled down her chest in a soft, gilded cascade.
“We’re supposed to be gathering mint.” Her breath hitched, body already strung tight with expectation.
“I never agreed to those terms.” I settled between her thighs, and her gaze followed my hands as I undid the fastenings at my collar. Lips parted. Knees pulled in beside me. “I came to watch.”
“Me pick herbs?” she asked, laughing under her breath.
The last link slipped free, and I shrugged off the mantle. It landed in a gleam of sunlight. “To watch you come undone.”
The sun poured over bare limbs. I folded my clothes with care; hers landed wherever they fell. A picture of my life. My calm and her chaos. I’d never sought to anchor her—only to move with her whirlstorm.
Later, green smears streaked across us. The scent of mint clung to sweat and warmth. Sunlight traced the lines of our bodies, and the world faded to birdsong and distant waves.
“Kallias?” Her breath brushed my cheek. Eyes shut. Voice soft with exhausted satisfaction.
“Hmm?” I kissed her forehead, tucking my arm beneath her head. Numbness crept down my fingers, but she was so perfect. I refused to move.
“I love you.”
My chest ached with those words. I still wasn’t used to them. They came after mad desire, after heated pleasure. Simple, unadorned—but I devoured them like a starving man.
“You’ll grow tired of me.” My hand tightened on her hip, as if my body rejected the idea.
She giggled, fingers stroking the stubble creeping back across my chest. The gray mocked me. A reminder of years between us.
A booming roar exploded in the distance.
I flinched, and Nienna bolted upright, every muscle wound tight. Leaves and twigs tangled in her hair, and she stilled, breath caught in her throat, eyes trained north.
When she spoke, horror filled her words.
“A dragon is coming.”
Chapter Thirty-Four
Nienna
Iknew that roar. Deep. Earth-throttling. Argos.
I scrambled for my clothes. A seam tore as I yanked my dress over my head. My skin crawled, heart raging to a chaotic pulse under my ribs. “They never come—not without a rider.”
Kallias dressed with precision, each motion quick, exact. Determination drew harsh lines across his brow, shadowing his features with concentration.
I bit my cheek, trying to steady my unease. “They fly in at first light, rest through the heat, and leave before dusk. A dragon doesn’t arrive this late in the day unless–”
“Let’s go.” He cut me off, fastening the last clasp of his mantle. He grabbed the basket, dirt still dusting his silvering hair, but I didn’t stop to brush it away. I bolted for the shore.
My instincts screamed to run, but brambles snagged at my steps. I tripped twice, steadied myself, forced my pace to slow. Panic surged like a tide. My fist clenched around my skirt as though the fabric might anchor me. Leaves whispered, branches shifted—nothing escaped my ears.
