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His brow furrowed, and he rolled onto his back, tugging her on top of him. Desire burned across her skin as she felt him harden beneath her. “Once more,” he said under his breath. “We’ll be quick.”
“It’s not once been quick,” she reminded him, but he only lifted her hips, lowering her onto his cock, her aching body shuddering as he filled her. A beam of dawn light peeked through the curtains, and she reached up to pull them wide, wanting to see him at least once without the cloak of shadows.
He turned his face away from the light, squeezing his eyes shut against the brilliance. “Stay all day.” His hips moved against hers. “And all night.”
“I’ll be missed.” Sorrow filled her chest because all she wanted to do was to say yes. To stay here with him and ask him all the questions that burned in her heart.
He sighed, turning his far-too-beautiful face into the sunlight. “As will I.”
And then he opened his eyes.
The glow of the dawn revealed what neither moonlight nor lamplight ever had: irises of such a deep azure blue that it was like staring into the depths of a shifting sea. A color so rich and vibrant that it was almost inhuman. The sight of it sent a shock through Zarrah’s body as sure as if she’d been doused with icy water. For the Maridrinian’s eyes were the identical color to those of the man who’d looked at her and laughed while he’d slaughtered her mother.
Words of a report long forgotten filled her mind:Shoulder-length blond hair. Medium height and light build. Eyes of Veliant blue.
Zarrah’s throat closed, but she still managed to get out, “You’re Keris Veliant.”
His jaw tightened. Reaching up, he jerked the curtain closed so that they were again concealed by shadow. “I was under the impression we weren’t doing names, Valcotta.”
Oh God, what had she done? “Just tell me the truth.”
“What difference does it make?”
All the difference. All the difference in the world. “Tell me!”
He was silent, and her heart skittered in her chest, part of her hoping against hope that she was wrong. That he was someone else entirely. But then he met her gaze. “Yes. I’m Keris Veliant.”
Zarrah recoiled, almost falling off the bed as she scrambled away from him, her skin icy cold and her vision pulsing in and out of focus. What had she done? What had she done?
He followed her off the bed. “What does it matter what my name is?”
“It matters.” Zarrah could barely get the words out, the world shifting as though she stood on a rocking ship, none of her clothes seeming to be where she’d left them.
“Why?” he demanded. “I’m the same man as I was before. The same man you spent the better part of the nightfucking,I might add.”
She flinched, covering up the motion by dragging on her trousers, trying not to think about the stickiness of her skin. Trying not to think of how she’d spent the night not in the arms of just a Maridrinian but in the arms of the future king of Maridrina. How the son of her greatest enemy had tasted every inch of her. Had spilled himself into her. Oh God, what if she got with child?
Bile surged up her throat, and Zarrah just barely managed to get to the side table to grab the basin sitting on top of it before she heaved her guts into it. Her eyes stinging, she turned to look at him. “I would never have done this if I’d known who you were. You are more my enemy than anyone in Nerastis.”
Not some hapless nobleman forced into service against his will, but the crown prince in command of Maridrina’s forces. Her opponent in every possible way. Not just a stupid decision, but a treasonous one. Her aunt would have her executed if this was ever discovered, and as it was, her honor would never forgive this.
“I am not my father.” His hands balled into fists at his sides. “You more than anyone know that.”
“I didn’t go to your palace to burn it, Veliant,” she whispered. “I came to put a knife in your heart. And if I’d done so, my actions would’ve seen the Empress heap me with accolades for striking a blow against the Rat King, whereas now I should fall on my own sword for the shame of what I’ve done.”
“Then kill me now.” He was across the room in a flash, scooping up a fallen dagger as he went, forcing it into her hand. Gripping her fingers tight over the hilt and then pressing it to his throat. “Do it,” he repeated, azure eyes liquid bright. “But know that my father will lift a cup of wine in your honor for ridding him of me.”
Do it,a voice whispered inside her.Redeem what honor you have left.
His breath was warm against her face, the lips that had kissed hers so reverently all night thinned with tension as he stared into her eyes, daring her to do it.
Zarrah’s hand quivered. It wasn’t that she’d spent a night in the arms of the Crown Prince of Maridrina that had shaken her to the core; it was all the nights that had come before. All the things that he’d said. That she’d said.
That in the saying, Zarrah had fallen for him in a way she’d never fallen before.
She straightened her fingers, the blade slipping through them to drop to the floor. “I’m going. And let this be as though it never happened.”
As if such a thing were possible.
