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Alindra’s eyes meet mine, and for a heartbeat, all I can think is how much I do not want to abandon this beautiful woman in this terrifying, huge city.
And then I realize what the serving girl is saying.
We can get into the Towers. Tonight. The Towers that house the magical energy Alindra can harness to open a portal. The Towers I was afraid we’d have to spend weeks observing and then construct some sort of elaborate plan to penetrate.
Apparently, those Towers give tours. To humans. Tonight.
“Sounds great,” I manage to stammer.
Alindra smiles at me, then brings her soup bowl to her lips. I follow her lead, devouring my first human meal so quickly I hardly even taste it. The girl brings a basket of rolls to our table, which might be the best rolls I’ve ever tasted, and once those have vanished, she tells us our room is ready. We follow the girl down a dark, narrow hallway. When she opens the door to our room, I realize what should have been bloody obvious from the beginning.
One bed. Of course, this room has only one bed, and it’s right next to one massive, steaming wooden tub filled with lavender-scented, foamy warm water. Because I checked us in as husband and wife, which I thought would be the simplest explanation and raise the fewest eyebrows. The human girl sniffs loudly at my side. I thank her, then step into the room, almost shivering as I try to think of a way to avoid the awkwardness of this situation.
Alindra pulls the door closed behind us. Heat races across my skin as I meet her eyes and try to smile. Her illusion evaporates, leaving her tall and dark and beautiful.
“Do you want the first bath?” she asks. “I can wait in the common room.”
I shake off my own illusion. The right arm I created for my human illusion is the last to evaporate, and I watch it vanish with a feeling in my gut that’s almost pain. Not that I liked being a human, of course, but at least I was complete.
With a sigh, I pace over to the room’s far wall. There’s a little table here, under a window that opens onto a courtyard filled with flowers and the brilliant light of early evening. It’s surprisingly elegant, much more than I expected for humans, and when I turn, Alindra is by my side, her lips parted and her eyes wide.
“I didn’t know they had gardens,” she whispers.
The sound of her voice pulls my body tight. I step back; my legs hit the bed. Alindra turns toward me, her dark curls drifting across her shoulders, and suddenly I’m imagining those curls spread across the water of the bath, draped down the side of the tub. Running wild across the sheets and pillows of this room’s one bed.
Shit. I turn away and start to fumble awkwardly with the lacings of my cloak. It’s too damn hot in this city, and especially in this room. My fingers slip around the knot. I curse under my breath.
“Phaedron,” Alindra whispers. “Let me.”
And then she’s standing before me, her hand tracing a path up my chest before coming to rest just below my chin. I try to remember to breathe as she unties the laces of my cloak and pushes it off my shoulders. It falls to the bed behind me with a soft sigh of surrender, and then she’s unbuttoning my shirt, that subtle motion that’s so easy with two hands. First one, then two, then—
I raise my arm and close my hand around hers, my fingers locking hers in place over my third button. Over the tangled mess of scar tissue that hides just below that thin layer of cloth, the disaster held at bay by a series of polished wooden buttons.
“Alindra,” I say, and my voice sounds like it’s been dragged through the coals.
She turns her shining eyes toward mine, and whatever else I might have said dies on my lips. The air between us feels hot and heavy; somewhere, there’s birdsong and the scent of flowers. I open my lips, ready to start again.
And she kisses me.
It’s like lighting a spark beneath a stack of dried parchment; my body goes up in flames. Trembling, everything inside me turns toward the woman who somehow captured a part of me I’d assumed was long dead. Her lips taste like salt and the strange, warm spices of the meal we just shared. Her tongue presses against the closed gate of my lips, hot and urgent. I open for her, letting her flit inside me as her hand forms a fist around my shirt, and voids, I feel that tug all the way to my cock. My pulse thunders in my ears as she tilts her body toward me, exploring me, tasting me.
Her lips are just as sweet as they were in my dreams, her body just as soft and welcoming. She moves closer, her hips brushing the aching need of my cock, and desire flashes through me like summer lightning. She’s so warm, this woman from the Worlds Above. She burns like the sun, fierce and beautiful, and voids help me, I want this. I want this so damned much it hurts.
Her chest rocks against mine, pressing the swell of her dress into the stiff head of my cock, and I can’t help it, I rock back, our bodies moving together as if they’ve known this rhythm all our lives. As if they’ve just been waiting for us to get this close, to finish the long dance of flirtation and hidden glances and moving to the other side of the fire, trying to ignore the way her smile stiffened my cock.
My mind tumbles to the bed, imagining Alindra there with me, her body on top of mine, drowning in the sweetness of her kisses. Alindra, naked and glorious as a scarlet sunset streams through the garden window, her legs wrapped around my hips, her dark hair spilling down her shoulders, eyes closed, lips parted, and—
And the Towers give tours when the moon is full. Which is tonight.
Which we will almost certainly miss if I let this intoxicating kiss get any deeper.
I pull back, my heart pounding through every muscle of my body, then shift away from the warmth of her body. Alindra stares up at me, her dark eyes and soft, full lips framed by wild curls. There’s a question in those eyes, a question and the long shadow of fear.
“Alindra,” I whisper.
I let go of her hand and bring my fingers up to brush her cheek. She leans toward my touch like a flower twining around a branch, and for a moment she’s so fucking beautiful that I can’t even bring myself to breathe. When she turns back to me, her eyes gleam in the golden sunlight falling through the window.
“I’m sorry,” she whispers. “I thought— I mean—”
