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“You don’t like to be touched?”
“I like to be touched by you.” I took a risk and dragged my teeth and lips across the slope of her throat. “But it feels as though fire is in my skull.”
Calista paused her touch, then drew her lips to the sharp point of my ear. “Your touch does the same. Why is that?”
Because our souls were tethered. They’d fought centuries to reunite, and it felt like the whole world was shifting under the collision.
Words seemed too weak. I didn’t know how to explain it all. I didn’t try and kissed her again. Calista sighed and sank against my chest, her arms choked my neck, and she leveraged each of her slender thighs over my lap.
Damn the hells. Arousal was harsh and cruel with her sweet body straddling mine. Gods, how did a man keep control when the fiercest desire of his heart rocked against his damn length? Was it even possible? Or did every male in existence lose control in his bleeding trousers?
Did she know she was destroying me? Perhaps that was the whole bleeding point.
I’d never touched a woman. We’d been separated as children who didn’t understand such things. Through the centuries that childish love shifted into something fiercer. Something darker. Something deeper.
Desire trembled through me, and if she did not keep her hands on me, I would not be able to draw another breath. Little by little the gentility of inexperience and stun shifted into the passionate, rough kiss. The one that spoke of different things, like tongues on flesh and bodies united as one.
I would never tire of her nearness. After watching time and again her eyes lose the life inside, I’d nearly thought this moment might never be. She’d always been robbed from me in the moments she remembered me.
It was the way of things. Before the curse took her from one lifetime to the next, she would call to me. Speak to me. It was in those moments we would prepare for a new tale. It was then her power would shine and grow and I would sing the final words, sending the paths of fate we put in motion as littles forward to reach the end.
To reach this moment.
Calista’s fingertips teased the back of my neck, tangling in my hair. Her nose nuzzled against my skin, then she kissed the puckered scar on my cheek.
A voice cleared behind us.
Calista pulled back, eyes narrowed. “What, Olaf? I’m occupied.”
“We have matters to discuss.”
I tilted my head in a way I could see the second commander in the corner of my eye. It had been turns since I’d seen the man. Knew he was there, of course, but I’d been bound to the palace where a broken world began. My sole focus was leading Calista Ode back to the first song, so naturally the rest of the world faded into insignificance.
The Rave were buried beneath illusions and manipulations, locked in time, waiting for their princess to call them to arms, or fade as the tale was forgotten and lost.
“You’re damn right we have matters to discuss.” Calista released me from her embrace and scrambled off my lap. “I saw it all. Do you know how many times I’ve died, hmm? A lot more than you, so you’ll excuse me if thesematterswe must discuss come from him first—” She jabbed a finger in my direction. “And you second. How long will that golden shield hold?”
Olaf blinked through a stun. “Well, it was a defense spell created by King Riot, and the longest I’ve seen it last is six sunrises.”
“Six sunrises. That gives us time to plan. It gives us time to understand what brought us here.”
“But—”
“No. No damn buts. I have unanswered questions,” she snapped, and yanked on my hand, tugging me back to my feet. “No more guesses. No more half-tales. The lives of every person I love once more hang in the balance. I will not risk them when I do not know the steps to take.”
Olaf glanced at me, as though I might reel her back. Fool. I would not stop her voice for anything—her voice was my freedom, my peace, it was the thickest part of my blood that kept my damn heart beating.
I pulled the hood over my face. The Rave slowly gathered close, but instead of watching the argument between Calista and Olaf, they gaped at me. Most knew the king’s ward was a puppeteer behind those gates, twisting and turning paths of fate from the shadows. But none had truly seen me.
No mistake, over the centuries, I’d become more ghost than anything.
A thousand gazes seemed to needle against my skin. Unease tightened like a garrot around my throat. Gods, I wanted to leave, wanted to return to the shadows.
I wanted Calista to follow.
“If sea folk emerged once,” Olaf argued, “then they will do it again.”
“I know. We’ll question the sea singer captured by the blood fae and hope we gain some answers on the other kingdoms.” Calista gave a wary look to the black flame one of her thieving companions had designed.
