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He wore chain mail over a thin woolen shirt. Both clung to his chiseled muscles. Leather pants and his gauntlets only added to his scorching sexual appeal. I caught his scent: clean sweat and horse. It drove me wild.
In the past, we’d always had sex after he trained, and he would be deliciously fierce with me. Now his magnetism only angered me more because we should be making love right now instead of about to have a hellacious fight.
His gaze flicked from my face to the phone in my clenched hand. “What are you doing with that?”
“Reading all of your texts.”
He tilted his head. “How did you guess my passcode?”
“I put in the date that you and I got together. Pretty important one. You lost your virginity and knocked me up that night.”
“It was an important night.” His voice gone low, he added, “The most important of my long life.”
“Oh, but that was before you came up with this big plan to sacrifice yourself. You’ve got a lot of nerve taking Jack to task about lying when you’ve been keeping this from me.”
“I do have a lot of nerve.” He removed his gauntlets and tossed them on a table. Clunk. “I’ve never told you an untruth. But I have lied by omission.”
I set the phone aside. “You told me you wouldn’t leave me. You told me that we would survive together, and that Circe would win the game in the far future. Those are lies.”
He leaned against the wall with all the elegance of an immortal knight. “I said that before the weather turned and the game’s stage tilted ever more. Now that I have—as you put it—knocked you up, we must ensure a future for our child. We will each sacrifice.”
“You thought his birth might upend the game.” I read his expression. “But you don’t anymore.”
“I don’t know. But I do know that his arrival won’t defeat the Emperor and Fortune.”
“Then what exactly is your plan?”
“I will take Zara out, and then Kentarch will teleport me to Richter.”
“You can’t fight him. Your sword will melt.”
“My armor won’t,” Aric pointed out. “Only the Devil could produce enough heat to melt it.”
“You can’t armor him to death . . .” Comprehension hit. My mouth went dry. “Kentarch’s going to teleport you inside Richter.”
Calm nod.
Aric could be calm; I was about to lose my mind. “Why can’t Kentarch wear it? He’s going to die anyway if he gets that close.”
“Perhaps not. Remember, he can ghost. That’s how he and Issa survived the heat of the Flash.”
“Jack wrote that Kentarch wants to die. You don’t.” I could hardly breathe. “Your plan won’t work like you think anyway. You haven’t seen Richter lately. I have. He moves too fast. Even Kentarch’s aim can’t land you where you’d need to go. Richter’s flames might not burn him, but Kentarch still can’t see within them.”
“We will have to weaken the Emperor. I’ve planned for that.” Aric sounded rational and sane—the opposite of how I felt. “Love, my battle against him and Fortune will be my last. I’ve made peace with that.”
I stood, my hands clenched. “How?” Tears blurred my vision. “How could you possibly make peace with it?”
“I’ve had to ask myself what I need most, and it’s not a life with you. It’s you and our son having a life in a world returned to you. That is what I will work for.”
His unyielding tone sent chills rippling over me. Which only fueled my anger. I marched forward and shoved against his chest with a sob. “Dying is easy. In an apocalypse, it’s the coward’s way out. Living is for the brave.”
“My mind is made up. I will do whatever it takes to ensure you and our son have a future. I do not apologize for this.” He took my hands, his thumbs making slow circles over my palms. “I only regret that I will miss seeing the two of you in the coming years.”
“I can force this issue.” I’d use my vines to take his armor, hide it away.
“As can I.” He clasped my nape, eyes gone starry with desire.
My desperate gaze dropped to his lips. . . .
And then we were kissing.
God, I’d missed him so much! Each point of contact generated a feast of sensation, and I moaned like I’d been starved.
With reverent hands and worshipful kisses, he peeled my clothes away, trailing his lips over my glowing glyphs and rounded belly as he laid me back on the bed.
When he tasted me, his eyes rolled back in his head. Just as mindless, I couldn’t stop writhing beneath him.
His fingertips squeezed hard enough to bruise my inner thighs, but I loved it.
Head thrashing, I cried, “More . . .”
“Always.” He murmured urgent curses in Latvian when he rose above me and entered me. His tattooed chest heaved as his hips sensuously plunged.
