Page 178 of The Sun He Buried

Eirik says my name.

Low.

“Sól.”

I know this feeling.

I want him.

My thighs press together beneath the nightdress.

The ache begins anyway.

His next breath catches.

I turn my head.

The silver mask is close enough to touch my cheek.

Both eyes find mine.

Purple.

Green.

The skin between his brows pulls tight.

His eyes close for one breath.

He looks hurt.

Then he steps back.

Cold fills the space behind me.

“Enough.”

I lower the knife. “What happened?”

“You’re wasting my time.”

The change leaves me standing with my mouth open.

“You offered.”

“I was bored.”

“You said I was better.”

“You managed to put one knife in a wall.”

“The target.”

“Wood is wood.”

I grip the handle. “Why are you doing this again?”

His gaze fixes on me.