But Reagan wouldn’t flinch or pull away if I stopped guarding my words, my expression, my tone. He understood pressure,understood responsibility, recognised the strain etched across my face.
A memory surfaced in my mind then. The dance studio in my hometown, and my lone reflection in the mirror-lined walls, where I could look at myself honestly. That was what he was asking to see.
“How was the session with Kellan for you?” Reagan asked, his breath brushing my ear.
“I don’t know. Confusing. Enlightening.” A brief spasm crossed my lips. “Joy is still scared, and I don’t know how to help her.”
Reagan’s hum vibrated against my neck as he nuzzled there. “Elaith will help her. That is why he is here.”
Something loosened in my chest, like relief, like I had finally voiced something that had been gnawing at me. It spurred me on.
“Hildegard told us that you treat the food differently here,” I said. “Joy thought you might be drugging us.”
He chuckled, the sound sending goosebumps down my arms. “Just the alluring women. But I asked aboutyouand you told me about your sister. Tell me about you.”
It was easier to focus on her. Easier than looking at myself, at the fear that still gripped me whenever I remembered the Scions, at the worry that I might fail at wielding at will, at my father in the infirmary and all the questions I still had.
But with the mountains before me and him at my back, it felt a little easier to speak.
“I’m thinking,” I said, sighing deeply, “that I shouldn’t want this, because if I do, it means I accept that we were lied to our entire lives. I know Joy is upset about this, but I’m…not. I’m angry, I think. But I’m not upset.” My eyes shut. “Maybe you understand what I am feeling and can explain it to me.”
“It sounds confusing,” he said lightly. “Which is entirely reasonable, Jane. You’ve had disturbing news dropped in your lap.” His arms tightened, drawing me against his chest. “If you need anything, and I do mean anything, all you have to do is tell me.” Then, quieter, amused, “I have a feeling there’s one very specific kind of comfort you could use right now. Lucky for you, I happen to excel at that.”
Laughing, I turned to face him and slid my arms around his neck. “What sort of comfort is that?”
“Sleep with me tonight,” Reagan said, his mouth brushing my ear, teeth grazing the shell, “and I’ll demonstrate. Thoroughly.”
I hummed. “I think I need information more than I need that.”
“Whendon’tyou need more information?” he said, his lips trailing down my neck.
My grin unfurled at how right he was.
“But you need to remember,” he murmured, teeth nicking my throat and pulling a sound from me, “that even with so many surprises, some things stay the same. This. Us. It’s still the same.”
I lifted my chin, giving him room, and Reagan took it.
His mouth traced my jaw as though reacquainting himself with my taste. He nudged us back step by step until the wall met my spine, and then his lips finally claimed mine.
It startled me, the way his kiss landed low in my body. Kissing him was like a storm breaking, like the reckless urge to run into the rain despite the lightning.
Reagan pressed me against the wall between the glass windows, his tongue sliding into my mouth and all I could think was how he felt decadent and intoxicating and the same as I remembered.
Perhaps he felt so familiar because some part of me recognised his power, beckoning the one inside me that was the same. Gods, I would like to believe that.
But in that moment, I didn’t care.
My leg slid up his, my calf skimming the back of his thigh. Reagan caught the hem of my skirt, gathering the fabric and drawing it higher until it bunched at my hips, leaving my bottom bare. The air did nothing to cool me. Not when his hand followed, cupping me, coaxing the ache he’d already lit.
He bent his knees, drawing me flush against him, and the press of his arousal met the place where I’d begun to throb.
I caught his lower lip between my teeth, a wordless plea, my hands bracing against his shoulders as I urged him on.
His breath washed over my skin. “Do you see how exactly the same this is? The most important part of your life. Still unchanged.”
I smiled. “You are not the most important part of my life, Caed.”
His own grin pressed into my skin, as though he’d doubted that. When he spoke again, his voice turned unapologetically sinful. “Maybe.”
