Page 202 of Revels on an Angel’s Grave

“Pretending what?” Her voice was hoarse, as thin as his restraint. The air between them was brittle glass, so fragile a breath would shatter it.

“Pretending you’re not mine.”

And finally, Fates and trials be damned, with the power to ruin a thousand stars, Roremar pushed off the door and kissed her.

Chapter Sixty-Five

Emmeline

Emmeline had been perched on the edge of devastation watching Roremar stand there, a man visibly breaking beneath the weight of what this Fatesforsaken realm was doing to them. But when his lips crashed against hers, taking without remorse, devastation ignited into euphoria.

She gasped as they met, a whimper slipping up her throat that said finally.

The door slammed closed behind Roremar, and a part of her feared it would shatter this moment, but the solitude only pulled the air tighter around them. It made every panting breath audible, gave every tangle of his fingers in her hair the magnitude of crashing thunder. Stitched her to him as he bowed her back and kissed her deeper, his tongue stroking hers.

Spirits, she couldn’t get enough of his taste, his body, the strength and surety with which he grasped her. A balance of delicate reverence and commanding need that weakened Emmeline’s knees.

She sank against him—into this kiss she’d been desperate for—boots scuffing over rubble as Roremar walked her backward. Relentless and commanding.

I’m tired of pretending you’re not mine.

Fates, she was, too. She was tired of giving this city every broken part of her and taking nothing for herself. She’d been growing more reckless with him for days, and this was her final straw.

“Roremar,” Emmeline gasped as his lips traced her jaw. He backed her against a pillar, the cold marble making her arch, pressing her closer to him. His length pressed against her stomach, and heat gathered in her core, needing him.

She couldn’t get enough. She was frenzied and aching. Magic hummed in her veins, cracking along her bones. Roremar nipped at her neck like he’d consume her.

“Oh, Fates,” she breathed, pulling his lips back to hers.

Roremar groaned into the kiss, hoisting her legs around his waist to get her closer. It was a kiss that turned her entire world inside out. It shattered stars, sent oceans crashing over moons.

It was the kiss they should have had so many weeks ago—the one she continued to run from because now…now Emmeline knew no matter what the Fates, Angel, or any greedy warrior said, she’d always belong to Roremar, and he to her.

There’d be no saving either of them if this was the ruin that waited.

Roremar kissed her with such demand, ownership. A belonging she’d searched for her entire life. She gripped his shoulders, tangled her arms around his neck, frantic and desperate to get closer, to breathe in that feeling and swallow it down.

Emmeline rolled her hips, gasping when he hit her clit.

“Fuck, Huntress,” he groaned.

Her head tipped back as he kissed down her throat, gripping her ass to grind her against him.

The air around them crackled with need, their desire a physical thing rippling along the marble⁠—

No. Not just desire, she realized as she blinked dazed eyes. The rubble of the seeing chamber—the dust from whatever had torn this place apart—it trembled in the air, swirling storms glittering like stardust itself, sparking against her magic.

And overhead, through the stained-glass skylights, the stars flashed brighter in response.

To them.

Emmeline’s breaths came faster as she watched, afraid to say what it meant and unable to focus on anything except how Roremar’s body fit perfectly between her legs. She needed all of him, no more rules or barriers.

No more lying.

No more denying.

Before he’d turned up here, she’d stood in this seeing chamber remembering the last one they’d destroyed. The first kiss they’d shared. Her patience that had been slowly dwindling all week was poised to snap. All it needed was this final push from him.