Page 41 of A Court of Darkness and Dragons

“The last assassin to betray him was a man named Zerin,” I began. “He tried to assassinate Cyran, but in an underhanded way. He used Solei instead of going after Cyran directly. She was beaten and used as bait. She was only eleven years old.”

Zander’s eyes narrowed, the muscle in his jaw twitching. “The assassination attempt failed. How did he get her back?”

“He went to the meeting but managed to slip Solei a blade during the negotiations for her release. Zerin expected Cyran to die for his daughter… and truthfully, he might have, if Solei hadn’t cut her bonds and slashed Zerin’s ankles first.”

“Damn,” Zander muttered.

“Cyran displayed him in the village square for three days,” I continued, my voice low. “The Order members took turns beating him, and when he finally begged for death, Cyran allowed Solei to kill him. The humiliation of an eleven-year-old girl taking your life…” I shook my head. “For an Order assassin, that’s as bad as it gets.”

Chapter

Fourteen

Zander stepped away from the throne and came straight to me, the distance between us closing in three long strides. His hands slid around my waist, pulling me flush against him, his warmth chasing away the lingering chill from the assassin’s attack.

“I don’t want the throne,” he said, his voice low and certain. “I only want you.”

The words tightened something in my chest, and I almost didn’t dare ask, but I did, anyway. “Is there a reason you can’t have both?”

His gaze softened, though the weight in it was still there. “There is nothing that can keep me from you. But being king will make our life so much more complicated.”

My pulse jumped. “You mean… you won’t choose another if you’re forced to be king? I’m a commoner…”

One corner of his mouth lifted, but there was no humor in it. “We both know that isn’t true. You are the granddaughter of the Blood King. He may have turned dark, but he is still fae royalty. But even if you were a simple girl from the Order…” His thumb brushed along my cheekbone. “…you are my girl. And no title will ever change that.”

My heart was a storm in my chest as I rose onto my toes and kissed him—slow at first, then deeper, until the world beyond his arms ceased to exist.

Our kiss deepened until it was no longer gentle but fierce, both of us clutching at each other as if the air itself had turned scarce. His hands tangled in my hair, mine fisting in the front of his tunic, pulling him closer, closer still, until breathing became secondary to the way his mouth claimed mine.

Then he broke away, just enough for our foreheads to touch, his breath ragged. “Come back to my room,” he murmured, voice hoarse with need. “I should let you rest… but I won’t. I need you. I need us.”

A shiver rippled through me at the raw honesty in his tone. We didn’t speak after that—there was no need. His fingers laced through mine, warm and sure, as we walked the castle’s winding halls. My heart pounded in my ears, and every brush of his hand against mine only fueled the fire already racing through my blood.

By the time we reached his chambers, restraint was a concept I’d long since abandoned. The door had barely clicked shut before I caught his face in my hands, dragging his mouth back to mine. My lips crashed against his with a hunger I couldn’t control, didn’t want to control, and the sound of his low groan as his arms came around me only made me press closer, desperate to erase every inch of space between us.

We stumbled toward the bed, our mouths never parting for more than a breath. My hands gripped the edge of his tunic and pulled, the fabric whispering over his skin before I shoved it aside, revealing the hard lines of his chest. His fingers were just as urgent, unlacing the fastenings at my sides until the leather gave way and slid from my shoulders.

Every touch, every inch of exposed skin sent sparks racing between us. His palm skimmed up my spine, and I felt my magic stir—Kaelith’s heat curling low in my belly—while his own power bled into the air like lightning before a storm. The pull was dangerous, too easy to give in to.

We both knew what would happen if we let it go unchecked.

His forehead pressed to mine, his breath ragged. “Hold it,” he murmured, though the strain in his voice said he was barely managing it himself.

“I’m trying,” I whispered back, sliding my hands over his shoulders, down the ridges of muscle in his back.

Clothing fell away in hurried, clumsy movements until we were both bare, the air between us charged and hot. He guided me onto the bed, our legs tangling in the cool sheets as his mouth found mine again—slower this time, savoring. My fingers threaded into his hair, pulling him closer until his weight pressed into me, grounding me even as our magic clawed at the edges of control.

The first thrust stole my breath, fire and lightning colliding under my skin. We moved together in a rhythm that was more instinct than thought; the sheets twisting around us as the heat built higher and higher. His lips trailed down my throat, over my collarbone, each kiss stoking the flames until there was nothing but the burn of him, the taste of him, the overwhelming us of it all.

When the wave finally broke, it was molten and consuming, igniting every nerve and pulling me under. He followed, shuddering against me, and we clung to each other in the aftermath—our magic slowly settling, twining together in the quiet like an unspoken vow.

I woke to the slow, steady rhythm of Zander’s breathing, our limbs tangled in a warm, heavy knot. I’d slept like the dead, the kind of deep, dreamless rest that came only after magic and passion had wrung every last ounce of strength from me.

A loud blast of a horn from somewhere outside shattered the peace. I scrambled upright, sheets pooling around my waist.

Zander rolled out of bed in one fluid motion, crossing to the window without a word. The morning light cut over the long planes of his back, down to—Mother above. My gaze lingered far too long. “Man, that ass could…”

He turned, one brow arched in silent amusement.