Page 114 of Black Sea

“Nauriel!” Amlach called out to me as I ran across the courtyard in front of the entrance to my wing of the palace.

I ignored him and lifted my skirt to ascend the atrium steps. I then crossed the empty corridor—most servants not essential to the banquet and the maids had been permitted to go to the gardens and celebrate with the citizens—and hurried into my apartments, slamming the first door behind me, even though I was aware that Amlach was tailing me.

I moved through the rustic sitting room in various shades of blue, lit only by moonlight streaming through the full-wall windows. When I reached the bedroom door, Amlach suddenly pushed open the sitting room door. I heard him close it behind him as I marched toward the central window. I gripped the two knobs and, just before opening the double doors, looked back with anger.

With his resolute gaze locked on mine, Amlach shut the bedroom door behind him and turned the key in the lock.

An adrenaline rush coursed through me as I stepped out onto the terrace, feeling grateful for the cool breeze against my burning face. The balustrade marked the end of my escape. I held onto the cymatium and watched breathlessly as my people had fun in the sloping gardens around the mountainside palace, still unaware of what had happened in the reception hall.

Of the scandal I had created.

“Nauriel.”

Amlach’s intimate voice only fueled my anger. I suddenly rounded on him and growled, “Why did you do that?”

He stood on the terrace’s threshold, so still that he looked like a statue. Yet his eyes were blazing. “I’ve done many things since we met,” he remarked sarcastically. “Be more specific.”

“Touching me like that!” I snapped, rubbing my arms. The sensation of his fingers on me was so vivid that my skin tingled with the desire to feel them again. “As if you were possessing me in front of everyone!” I pressed my palms to my belly, feeling that liquid heat gathering once more between my legs, where I needed him. “As if you were my . . . my . . .” I couldn’t say it.

His nostrils flared as he drew a long breath, almost as if he were fighting against himself to keep control, and his expression gradually grew menacing.

“ You challenged me,” he said, with a tone filled with treachery, advancing like a predator stalking his victim. “ You let me touch you like that.” He stopped so close to me I could feel the warmth radiating from him. “ You didn’t mind moaning between my hands under your father’s eyes.”

My slap made his head snap abruptly to the side.

His gaze flicked to mine, so sharp it creeped me out.

“You disgust me,” I murmured, my voice cracking with anger and shame.

Amlach wiped the tear that streaked down my cheek with his thumb. “That’s not true.”

I shut my eyes with a grimace. No, that wasn’t true, not a little bit. “I disgust myself,” I said, turning away from him. “What have I done?" I looked at the Kingdom of Men beyond the winding line of the Glawar, which shimmered like a river of diamonds in the moonlight. “Oh, Spirits, I’ve ruined everything,” I gasped, placing a hand over my mouth.

I had doomed Amlach’s kingdom.

I had condemned humans to live either among the elves or to depart from the Lands of the East if they wished to survive.

I turned sharply to Amlach, looking everywhere except at his face. “You must . . . you absolutely must return to the party,” I stammered, “and beg for my father’s forgiveness and choose your . . . your bride among my cousins.”

“I can’t,” he replied harshly.

“Why?” I hissed, determined to push him up to the reception hall if I had to.

“Because I feel it, Nauriel,” he answered hotly, magnetizing my gaze to him.

I held my breath. My heart skipped a beat, then started hammering wildly against my ribs. I couldn’t speak, not even think.

All I could do was stare at the half-elf before me with wide eyes.

He exhaled sharply through his nose. “I feel it too,” he admitted. “I felt it when you pulled me up the tree just before the water hit me.” He brushed my palm, his fingertips climbing up my arm. “The first time we bathed under the waterfall on our island.” He ran his pads along my prominent collarbone. “In every moment we spent eating by the fire. And when we were in Rubra, it became so intense I felt like I was going crazy,” he said, irritated, causing me to take a shuddering sigh as he traced the outline of my breasts beneath the dress neckline with the back of his index finger. “All those nights with your breath on my face . . .” He ran his fingers over my parted lips, and my hot breath brushed against them. “Having you naked, just a step away from me, in that fucking tub without taking you . . .” He slid his open hand up my throat, pausing for a moment with his thumb on the main artery to feel my heartbeat. “Seeing your skin open every time you tried to protect me in the arena . . .” His expression turned deadly as he followed the patterns of the scars on my biceps and forearms. “I wanted to scream because I couldn’t understand what was happening to me. But when we arrived here, I understood.” He put his hand on my heart and looked deep into my eyes. “It was my soul desperately calling yours.”

I placed my hand over his, tears of happiness rolling down my cheeks. “And mine answered.”

It had resurfaced from the depths of solitude, where it had stayed holed up for millennia, and had started to call out to be found.

By Amlach.

By him alone.