“He penances.”
“I understand—”
“He’s the Butcher, second to the High Druid of Dendra, for fuck’s sake.”
Before I could protest, Demetri fastened his palms to my hips, gripping them like handles.
With a gasp, he thrust me against the bedpost, the pad of his hand cushioning my skull before it crashed upon wood.
That’s how he held me: one hand clenching my hips, the other pressed to the back of my neck, his head angled down, chestnut curls falling into both our eyes.“We do not have nearly enough time for you to waste it talking about the supposedmoral ambiguitiesof your druid, darling girl. I need you to understand something…something very”—he bit my bottom lip—“very”—he nipped at the top one—“important.”I swallowed, lips stinging from the scrape of his teeth, that keening ache that had never quite settled rising anew.
“We fly or we plummet this night, and all on the whims of a cunt. If this is it, then let us be done with small sins.” He pulled at my hair, forcing my eyes to lift, and I groaned, wanting him to tug harder. I deserved it. In bed with a druid. “We were granted a turn here and there, every Seventh Day. A stolen kiss in the alley.” He suckled at my neck, drawing at the skin with a forcefulness as if he wished to suck me dry, or brand me. “A fondle by the fire in the yard.” He nipped me, and Other help me, I moaned, grinding against the hardness under his dress. A smile clawed its way free.Of course he’d seduce me in a gown.He skirted to my breast, thankfully numb, rubbing over the cotton until he found my bud, already puckered and wanting. “I am finished with rations.”
His other hand dipped under my hem, skirting up until his fingers streaked through the wetness dripping down my thighs. “I am done with denying what our bodies and souls have ached to do for a decade. Not when death lurks for us at every turn.” I parted for him, open and begging.
Demetri. Demetri was here. As he was always meant to be. My Demetri.
“The Blood God, the Other, some heathen fucking witch from the south, whatever high and mighty cunt it is who chooses which way the winds blow, has granted us a second chance. I will not, darling girl, under any circumstances, squander it. I loved you once.” He stopped his trailing, perilously close to my core. I quivered with it: the need to be touched, to be felt.
Tears pooled, streaming down my cheeks, truths welling on my tongue and slipping over. “I loved you, too,” I breathed, my eyes searching his in the dark. They were glazed, possessive, more feral than I’d ever seen them. We were both dying. We had always been dying…it just took living to realise it.
“I still love you,” he declared, voice splintering like wood. “Then, now, the next breath, the next turn, the next phase, for however long we have before the Blood God and His merry band of armoured fuckwits try to claw us apart, I will love you.”
I loved him, too. He was home. With Demetri, I didn’t have to look.
Sometimes, you need to,a small voice whispered. I strangled it until it quietened.
“I love—”
“No.” He cupped a hand over my mouth. “Don’t say it because I said it.”
“I’m not. I—”
“Darling girl, if one more thing comes out of your mouth, I’ll penance that tongue of yours. I might not cut it out, but by the pits, you’ll wish I had when I’m done.”
“You wretched little—”
“Fuck, there it is—”
With that, our mouths collided.
Chapter forty
Demetri
The No Small Sin
From small sins dawn true abominations. Resist the kindling that ignites the inferno. -314:6–7 - The Book of Dendralis
I made sure—I made godsdamned sure—to banish the druid’s name from her lips with the force of my own. It wasn’t a kiss so much as a claiming, my tongue halfway down her throat as hers fought mine like a sword.
She tasted like she always did: almonds and daisies and longing and regret and a smith yard coated in ash. This was always inevitable, Ashara and I, and a helmed prick wouldn’t change that.
Hooking around my middle, her thigh knotted my waist, and I rolled, feeling her heat burning through the folds of the gown.
“Gods, darling…those sounds,” I hummed into her mouth. “I could eat them for breakfast, lunch, and supper.” She wrenched me back down, fastening herself to my lips as if I could swallow her whole, and ripped off my headdress, throwing it to some dank corner over my shoulder. Finding her tongue, I took it between my teeth, nibbling and sucking, giving her the penance I promised.Fuck,her moans. I feasted on them as I mapped out her body: full, gloriously soft, her bumps and lumps like the road home. I traversed across it, finding my favourite spots—the supple pad of her lower stomach, the underside of her breasts, heavy in my hands, the dip between her shoulders.
I froze.
