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“That’s not true.” I curl into him, wanting to feel the warmth of his body against mine.
“What is true anymore? That we are alone. You and I, and fifteen legionaries and this palace with untold power we cannot wield without causing dreadful harm.” He sighs heavily. “Atticus does not have the head for politics. He does not realize how precarious his situation is, how claiming the throne from me in such a public display has fractured the strength of it. For the first time since Rhionn, our enemies have seen it taken.”
“Maybe you need to tell him that.” We’ve heard nothing from Atticus beyond the letter we intercepted and what Rengard described. No communication between the two brother-kings.
Zander’s chuckle is low and humorless. “He is a stubborn and pompous fool, too busy enjoying that crown he’s coveted for so long to listen to anyone with wisdom.”
I’ve seen only glimpses of the brothers’ relationship, but anyone could read the power struggle that existed despite Atticus’s carefree persona. Still, their connection seems deep. “Why didn’t you have him executed when you found out he slept with Princess Romeria?” It’s become easier to speak about the Ybarisan who once occupied this body as if she was some other being.
“Because he is still my brother.” He pauses. “Why? Do you wish I had?”
“I don’t know.” What would the weight of executing his own brother feel like on his shoulders? I sigh. “But at least then he couldn’t have stolen your crown from you.”
“No, but someone else would have likely tried by now. Besides, I know firsthand how persuasive and enticing the princess was. I can’t fault Atticus for that betrayal.” He rolls onto his side again to capture my lips with his. “Though she wasn’t as enticing as this version.”
“Are you talking about other women while in bed with me again? What did I say about that before?”
His lips curl. “That you would make me pay for it.”
“Right … right … But how?” I pull away from his lips and roll onto my back, arching my body in a deep, dramatic stretch, the night air grazing the peaks of my breasts.
He accepts the blatant invitation, moving in on me in an instant, his mouth sealing over my nipple, his palm sliding up my inner thigh. A soft moan slips from me as his touch slides across my center, and my legs part to grant him better access. “I suppose this is a start.”
His chuckle against my flesh sends an electric current along my nerves, stirring a fresh, deep wave of need in my core. Our little games never last long. As soon as I feel the heat of his body against mine, I’m done for.
“Do you know how hard it is to keep myself from touching you when we are outside these chamber walls?” He echoes my thoughts as his fingers tease me. “All I can think about is getting back here with you.”
“While you’re planning war? How romantic.”
He ignores my crack. “And then when I finally have you here …” He lifts himself onto one elbow to give him a better view of my naked body. His heated eyes rake over me, stalling on my thighs to watch his hand work me over. “I can never get enough.”
“Good. I don’t ever want you to.” I roll my hips against his touch.
With a groan, he’s moving and shifting down to hook my legs over his shoulders. His breath skates across my damp core, turning my breathing ragged.
With a devilish smile, his mouth closes over me—
Knuckles bang on our door, followed by a loud “Romeria!”
“Is it too much to ask that he shows a little deference to his queen?” Zander complains.
“It’s Jarek. If the door wasn’t warded, he’d be standing at the end of our bed.”
“And then I would have to kill him.”.
I curl my hand around the back of his head, pulling him back to me, even as I holler, “What!”
“You’re needed at the gate,” comes the booming response.
“Now?” Zander and I exchange wary looks. It’s the middle of the night. “Who needs me?” I holler, at the same time Zander calls out, “For what?”
“The Ybarisans have come.”
The clomp of horse hooves along the cobblestones is especially eerie at this late hour.
“Tell us everything you know about this captain,” Zander demands as we ride for the gate, the path lit by flaming lanterns. He wears the mask of Islor’s stony king again, and his tone is especially harsh. The news of Gesine’s secret message to Mordain hasn’t helped their relationship.
I’m not happy with her either, but I can’t waste energy on anger right now. Besides, I know she didn’t do it maliciously.
“Kienen, you said,” Gesine repeats, blinking the sleep from her eyes as she rides behind Zorya, clinging to the warrior’s waist. We found the caster face down in a book in the library, a blanket drawn across her slender body, I assume, thanks to that same warrior who guards her day and night.
