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“Yes, you are. This isn’t you. This isn’t the Rhyan I know. You were dreaming about your past—about a Rhyan who isn’t here anymore. About a Rhyan who was living under a tyrant and did whatever he had to do to survive. You’re not there anymore. You tore that rope apart, remember? You’re good.”
“No! Don’t you get it? I’ve killed before, killed with my bare hands.”
“Akadim.”
“People! My own people when I fled. And you know the rumors. They’re all true. I killed one of my friends with my bare hands.My friend.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Then how about this?” he said, stepping in front of me. His arms wrapped around my waist, pulling my body flush against his as he walked me back into the wall, pushing against me, his hips pressed to mine. I could feel him then. And he was hard, so fucking hard.
Heat pooled between my legs, my core clenching at the feel of him, his length thick and pressing up against my belly. My nipples peaked, feeling the growing warmth of his bare chest through the fabric of my shift. I stared up into his eyes, my breath hitching at the sight of his hooded gaze full of heat and desire. It was enough to melt the remaining chills from my skin. If Rhyan had been frozen a moment ago, he was burning with fire now, flames threatening to consume me.
“Do you know how much I want you?” he growled. “How much I want to throw you on the bed, tear this off of you,” he lifted the hem of my shift, pulling it up my thigh, “and fuck you until the sun rises and sets again?”
I sucked in a breath, my heart threatening to hammer through my chest into his.
“Every second I spend with you, I grow closer and closer to breaking my oath.” He leaned in, his lips just a breath away from mine, his hand clenching my shift, pulling it higher and higher.
I lifted on my toes, pressing my body closer against his, not caring that this was reckless, not caring that we were both farther than Lethea and there were a hundred reasons why I needed to stop this—oaths, politics, the Emartis, Tristan….
But I wanted Rhyan. I’d wanted him for years. I was losing patience, losing focus, losing control, crawling out of my skin with need and heat and a soul-deep desire that felt like it would swallow me whole one day. Every part of me was lit by a living flame that breathed through my blood, beat through my heart.
Oath be damned. All I could feel was his heated desire, his breath, and the delicious way he was pressing against me, exactly where I needed him to. His hips rolled forward to make his point until I gasped. He lifted my leg around his waist and pushed me up against the wall until both my legs wrapped around him. His hands were on my ass as he ground into me. His lips pressed against my collarbone as he inhaled, a shaky sigh escaping his mouth like he was dizzy from my scent. His lips whispered against my neck, trailing up to my ear until my entire body shivered.
“Tell me,” he commanded, “is this what you want? For me to throw everything we’ve worked for out to sea? For me to take you like this?”
I exhaled my own shaky breath, my chest heaving from exertion like I’d just finished a run. My heart squeezed at his question.
There he was, rising to the surface under all his anger and desire. There was my Rhyan. My Rhyan who would never do anything without my permission. My Rhyan who was losing control because of his grief and stress and anger and desire but still managed to check in with me.
“You have so much to lose if you give into me, partner. But I don’t. I’m already forsworn. Why not break every last oath I have?” he said, his breath hot against my ear.
“No.” I pushed my hand against his chest.
Rhyan set me down, strode across the room, and slammed his fist into the wall.
I didn’t doubt his desire for me in that moment, only his intention. After the day and night he’d had, he’d gone to a dark place. A place I could only guess he’d inhabited under his father’s cruelty and possibly also when he’d spent a year exiled from the Empire. He was bluffing—trying to prove he was bad—to convince me of the darkest thoughts racing through his mind, thoughts that had been planted by his father, thoughts that were completely, utterly false.
“You did that on purpose,” I yelled. “You’re on such a path of self-destruction that you’re even trying to convince me you’re not good because some stupid voice got into your head. You really want me to let you wallow out here, not sleeping and sinking deeper? You think after all these months, I don’t know you? That I don’t care so fucking deeply for you that it hurts? Do you still truly believe you’re not worthy of being part of my life? That even as complicated as it all is, you’re the best part?”
“The best part of your life can’t be some criminal, killer forsworn,” he said, sinking to his knees.
I crossed the room and crouched behind him, wrapping my arms around his waist, resting my hands on his stomach, pressing my head against his back. “Rhyan, you are so much more than your oath. I’m not letting you do this to yourself. Or to me. Please, come to bed. If you really want to prove how awful and forsworn you are, then this is it. Stay awake, be exhausted, don’t train me tomorrow. Don’t give me every chance I have before the Emperor’s test. But I don’t think that’s what you really want. To prove your father right? The Imperator? To let him win? You’re stronger than him. I know you are. You need to remember yourself.” I traced the tattoo across his back. “Remember you tore the rope.”
He sat back on his heels and turned to face me. I reached out a hand to his forehead, my finger gingerly tracing the path of his scar beneath his bandage. My hand stopped at his cheek, and I let him rest the weight of his head against my palm.
“This doesn’t define you,” I said. “It doesn’t take away from who you are. It never has. And for me, it never will.”
His face fell. “Gods,” he said, shoulders slumping. “I’m sorry.”
“I know,” I said. “It’s okay.”
“Not after what I just did to you.”
I stood, reaching my hand out to his in response. He watched my hand, wary, his expression full of guilt before at last, his fingers wrapped around mine as he stood. We silently walked back to his bedroom, and I closed the door behind us. I crawled into bed first, pressing my back against the wall and holding the covers up for him. The mattress dipped beside me as he slid onto the sheets. He lay on his side with his back to me as he adjusted the blankets to cover the two of us evenly.
His shoulders shook as he released a shuddering breath.
