Kallias blinked. His eyes sharpened. “He attacked you?”
“He grew up with me.” I dropped my gaze, fingers fussing with the edge of his bandage. “I should’ve noticed the signs. Ronan warned me, but after Tallon, I can’t exactly trust his judgment.”
He pulled back slightly, scanning me with fresh concern.
“You’re well?”
“Only my pride’s bruised.” A bitter laugh scraped free as I shrugged. “He assumed I’d be easy. Thought I would fall for his future crown. As if that’s what I was after in Radaan.”
Kallias drew a long breath, his chest rising under my touch. His jaw clenched. “Then it’s my fault. You were after a title—but my advances made them think you were greedy. Gods, I’m sorry.”
“Your advances?” I smirked, lifting my face. “If I recall, I was doing the chasing.”
His head dipped. “I knew what it was. Whatwewere becoming. And I let it happen.”
I grabbed the damp cloth off the dresser and swiped it low over his open trousers. “Do you know what’s happening now?” My voice lilted with challenge.
His eyes fluttered shut as I cleaned the bare skin exposed by his undone buttons.
“We’re going to do this right,” he muttered. “Not until we’re married. I’m not sure how long negotiations with your father will take. If I were him, I’d watch me like a hawk.”
He hissed when my hand dipped too far. His grip clamped around my wrist, firm and fast.
“He will count your cycle, and at the first missed bleeding—he’d toss me into the sea.”
“Maybe I’ll hurry him along.”
“Elohios be praised, it can’t happen fast enough.” His jaw tightened. “Now, your mother’s no fool. She’s probably watching your hall. Go, Nienna.”
“Let me stay,” I whispered. “Just a while.”
Moonlight caught the silver at his temples as he smiled. “We have a lifetime ahead of us. I’ll see you in the morning.”
Would I ever grow tired of him being right?
Mother would know I’d gone to him. Ronan might already be lurking in the halls. If Father found out, he’d send Argos into a rage. Still, I didn’t care. I hated the idea of returning to my rooms. I wanted him. Now.
I sighed and leaned in, brushing my chest against his as I tipped my chin to offer my lips. “At least kiss me good night.”
“You’ll be the death of me.” He groaned, hand rising to cradle the back of my head. His fingers tensed in my hair. I gasped, and he let go, his eye twitching.
“Just one kiss,” he said.
I nodded, teeth scraping my bottom lip. His gaze lingered there, hunger searing his expression, then he leaned in.
His scruff prickled across my skin, his lips warm but unmoving. I smiled into the stillness, letting my mouth part just enough.
With a sharp, breathy sigh, he tasted me, slow and tentative.
I clutched onto him, yanking him flush against me. My tongue flicked against his, coaxing him. He groaned, answering with a fierce plunge that pulled a gasp from my throat. Heat unfurled low in my belly, the kiss dragging out the ache between us.
His fingers tangled in my hair as he backed me into the dresser, his hips pinning mine. We kissed like a battle—urgent, wild, with each retreat followed by a fiercer return. He tasted of cinnamon, hot and spiced.
One hand darted down to my rear, sliding over my curves before continuing down to grab my thigh in a rough grip. His fingers flexed along my leg before they flew open and he tore his mouth from mine.
“Nienna, go,” he rasped against my throat, blocking my path.
I stood there, knees shaking, breath ragged. Sea beneath, I needed him to move, to throw me against the dresser andtakeme. My body ached for him, the way lungs burn for air.
