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“Just get through a few hours of this,” Kai whispered into her ear, kissing just below it, his voice like liquid gold. “And then I will sneak you away into whatever room of this hall and worship you properly.”
The words struck through her, and the breath she let out may as well have been a moan. “Last night wasn’t enough for you?”
“Not even close.” Kai’s hand ventured to the slit in her ivory gown that had left her leg on display. His fingers curled to the inside of her thigh, the touch to her skin making her shiver despite the heat as he drifted up into dangerous territory. “We were both holding back far too much.”
Isla knew what he was about to find.
Her eyes fluttered open in perfect time with his trail reaching the junction of her hip, where a fact became very evident.
“Fuck.”Kai sucked in a breath, his eyes drifting to where his hand was hidden beneath the fabric. His gaze met hers, dark and dangerous.
Isla gave an innocent shrug, her fingers tugging at his hair near the nape of his neck, making a sound rise in the back of his throat. “Underwear didn’t work well with the dress.”
Kai’s fingers dropped so close to her arousal that it made her core clench. “How unfortunate.”
He kissed her mouth now, and her breathing stilled at the gentleness that juxtaposed whatever wicked act he was about to commit, merely an inch from what pooled between her legs. But, although riding his fingers until she saw stars would certainly get the edge off, a deviously masochistic part of her wanted to play.
Isla grabbed his wrist, stopping him as he closed in. Confusion cast over Kai’s face. “A few hours, right?” she said. “I need something to motivate me.”
He frowned slightly, but a smirk quickly replaced it as he pulled back his hand, leaving her cold and aching. “You better behave then.”
Isla grinned wickedly, running a finger along his jaw, down the strong column of his neck. “I might be more intrigued to find out what you’ll do to me if I don’t.”
Kai’s eyes blinked wide before narrowing, still dripping with lust, as he let out a loud sigh and leaned back in the chair. “You will be the death of me.” He shifted his hips, looking for relief from what Isla could clearly see the outline of in his pants. “I probably should’ve put more thought into what helping you relax would do.”
“You’ll get over it.”
“I’m not sure I will. So, if you don’t want me bending you over this chair and ruining this pretty dress, I’m going to need you to take several steps away—and also to not look at me.”
Isla huffed a laugh. “Baby.”
“I’m not kicking off this party like this.”
“I mean, I can take care of it right now if—”
“Up!”
Though the order was given with a laugh and a smile that made her heart skip, it was strained. Throwing up her hands with afine, fine,Isla rose to her feet. She may have added a little extra oomph to the sashay of her hips as she meandered to the far side of the room.
His eyes were still on her, she knew, as she busied herself by examining the artwork on the walls, recalling the guests who’d be in attendance that claimed themselves to be connoisseurs.
Isla tilted her head at a painting of an army of ferocious wolves, lumerosi and eyes aglow. Some of them, to her surprise, donned the warrior crescent currently on display on her back. Blood dripped from their maws as they held the line before a hoard of grayish humanoid creatures, their companions’ carcasses dashed across their boney feet. Crawlers. Blood-sucking, bona fide demons that feared the sun and that were, thankfully, no longer too uncontrollable an issue in Morai.
She slid to the next, only this time, there were no crawlers. No. Here, wolf had been pitted against wolf. Some shifted, some not. A melee of swords and gnashing teeth. From the piece, who fought for which side was not immediately apparent. Maybe it was showing how fruitless it was to fight each other when, in the end, they were all the same.
Within her lifetime, the packs themselves had been experiencing some relative times of peace. There were rogues, yes, and crawlers in some spaces. But internal conflicts, such vicious wars like this that divided them in two, three, four, that left far too many pyres burning and the ashes of fallen wolves floating through the skies, hadn’t occurred in decades. Maybe even a century or two.
Isla’s grip on her forearms tightened, envisioning herself on that battlefield. She’d been trained to fight and protect. She had fought and killed a few times now, and though she still bore lifeless stares in her memories, she was getting better at compartmentalizing them. But those were bak. Those were rogue wolves…still wolves all the same, but—
The thought of standing on a battlefield, staring across it, and finding the people she loved. Her father, Sebastian, Adrien…
Where would they stand if everything between Deimos and Io came to a head?
Isla didn’t want to think about it.
She didn’t bother turning her head to Kai as she asked, trying to bring some levity back to her voice, “How are you doing?”
“Have I ever told you that you have a remarkable ass?”
