Page 60 of Storm of Ink and Blood

“Zarya,” he said, his voice rough and full of passion. “Please let me in. I’ve been miserable these months without you. I need you, and you need me. Let me protect you.”

Zarya scrunched her nose with uncertainty. “You want to be my paramadhar?”

“Why wouldn’t I want that?”

“Because.” She waved a hand and then immediately snatched it under his cloak. It was freezing out here. “You’re basically my servant. If I die, then so do you.”

He tipped his head and arched a brow as if to ask what the problem was.

“You don’t think that’s a little messed up?” she asked.

“It’s an honor to be chosen,” he said so seriously that she thought for a moment he had to be pulling her leg. But there was only sincerity in his expression.

“What if we aren’t anything more than that?” she asked. “What if I don’t want to pursue anything physical or romantic between us?”

“Then I will fulfill my duty with honor.”

Zarya frowned. “Really? Why would you do that?”

His mouth opened, and he shook his head as though he didn’t understand her questions. “Because,” he said. “We will be more.”

She almost laughed at his bottomless arrogance. The truth was he was probably right, and her defenses were already crumbling. How much longer would it be before she gave in?

“You want to bind yourself to me forever in the hopes I’ll change my mind about us?” she asked, still skeptical.

The corner of his mouth teased up. “You will change your mind about us. And when you do, it will be like the heavens exploding.”

“Gods, you are so full of yourself, you know that?”

His smile stretched a little further, and the sight was so rare it did something weird to her heart. “So I’ve been told.”

“What if I don’t change it?”

“Nothing changes for me,” he answered without hesitation.

“I still don’t understand.”

“You will,” he said before he took her hand and slipped his arm around her waist. The touch sent heat flooding through her body as she leaned into his warmth. She stared up at him, his face so close to hers she could feel his breath as it fogged in soft white puffs.

Was he about to kiss her? Did she want that? She did. She knew she shouldn’t but… fuck, if she didn’t absolutely want his mouth on hers.

He then wrapped a hand across her nape and drew her closer, burying his nose into the crown of her head before he pulled back and took her hand, flipping it over and pressing his lips to her palm.

The act sent a bolt of sensation straight to her stomach, her knees turning to mush. How could such a benign touch elicit such a reaction? She’d thought so many times of the way his hands and mouth had felt. The way he’d tasted her and bitten her and fucked her. That night on Ranpur Island lived at the forefront of her many vivid fantasies.

His mouth lingered on her skin for another second before he pulled it away. He leaned down to speak in her ear, his lips brushing the shell, causing her entire body to flush with heat and want.

“Good night, Zarya. I will see you again soon.”

Rabin blinked as he returned to the warmth of his room inside the castle. He’d done it again.

He stared out the window at the moonlit tundra, imagining the spot far in the distance where they’d met. He wasn’t sure why that had felt like the right spot, but when he saw how she’d looked at him, he knew it had been the perfect choice.

“Went to see your girlfriend?” came a familiar voice. He spun around to find Ekaja sitting at his desk under the far window, her feet kicked up and her hands folded over her stomach.

She had been Abishek’s army commander for decades, and Rabin had bonded with her over tales of their conquests and their never-ending fascination with battle strategy. She was a powerful Aazheri with five anchors and had a mind for war that many would envy.

Rabin arched a brow and began stripping out of his leather and furs. “Shouldn’t you be with yours, not lurking around my bedroom?”