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“Don’t ask me, old man.” Erik’s hand fell to the small of my back. “Ask your lady. Her voice bears the same weight as mine.”
Truth be told, I wanted to slip away to our chambers and not emerge for no less than a month. Still, I nodded at Alistair. “I’d like to see.”
The steward sniffed, turning before I could fully catch the satisfaction on his face, and led us toward the throne room. Blood had been scrubbed off the floor from the wickedly beautiful night when Erik made me his queen. The polished tiles swirled in a coil from theedges of the room to the center, like a whirlpool on the sea. Sconces were alight and brightened the pale stone walls.
On the dais beside Erik’s dark mahogany throne, was a second seat, complete and stunning. Vines of ivy ran along the armrests. Sunbeams, thorns, and rose buds shaped the high back, and on every edge, were small foxes racing along the wood.
“Are you pleased?” Alistair asked with anticipation.
“It’s beautiful,” I choked out.
Erik pressed a tender kiss to my palm. Mira and Celine made swift remarks on the craftsmanship, and how well-suited the throne looked amidst all the horridly gawdy tapestries and furnishings from Ever Kings of old.
My father was stoic, lost in thoughts I didn’t want to disturb. Not until we’d had time to let this new life settle. Rest, food, a wash, as Alistair suggested. Then, we could speak.
Satisfied by my praise, Alistair clapped his hands, ushering a swell of palace servants to tend to the new arrivals.
“Daj is an enemy here,” I whispered to Erik. “He killed a king, and everyone knows it.”
Erik’s eyes flashed. “He is also the father of our queen. I think I have made it clear—in this very room—what becomes of anyone who harms my queen, Songbird. Should he be hurt, you would be hurt.”
A throat cleared. Alistair, nose in the air, stepped beside us. “Mind the intrusion, but I shall tend to the earth king personally. I assure you, I would stand little chance should I attack the man. Then, there is a feast to be had for this new unity, naturally. Ire has a way of dimming with a good meal, a spritely tune, and the king’s wine.”
He strode off before we could argue. I’d long since learned Alistair served the palace, but it would be rather pointless to stand in the man’s way should he have a plan.
“He’ll tend to Daj and Stieg because everyone else looks terrified of them,” I whispered.
Once my friends and family were paired with an attendant, Erik led us to the study with a polished wood desk, a widespread window overlooking the sea, and one of the king’s tricky hidden passages in the walls.
My insides heated until the burn ached between my thighs by the time Erik pushed through the wall and into the outer chamber of the king’s wing.
Someone had lit the strange blue fire in the inglenook. Sweet wine and dark rum were set out on a wooden tray on the table, and steam spilled from the washroom.
A dozen memories of this room already reeled through my mind. The arguments, the shift between captor and captive to lovers, the joy and passion. All of it spun in my head until we stopped in front of the washroom door.
Erik fumbled with the handle. “We can wash, then—”
He didn’t finish before I shoved his back to the wall. I kissed him. Fiercely. My teeth scraped over his lip. Erik thrust his fingers into the tangles of my hair, tugging my head back all to give him the angle he demanded. I arched my hips into his, groaning against the hardness of his body.
“Wash all you like,” I said between breaths. “So long as I am there with my hands on your skin.”
“Gods, woman,” he cursed and tugged at the dirty shift, rusted over in old blood.
We were worn, cut and slashed, but there was little thought to any of it as I peeled his belt away, as Erik sloughed off his boots. Frantic fingers worked laces on my bodice, and buckles on his trousers.
“You have open wounds,” I whispered between kisses, stealing a glance at the bandage over his ribs. “Don’t allow your blood to poison me until I get a little more of you, Serpent.”
His grin brushed over my mouth. “Tavish has tricks not even a boneweaver knows—the wraps clot the blood with a spell, love. Don’t pick at it, and it should hold through plenty of movement.”
Patience lost, Erik gripped the edges of the bodice and split it at the seams until it fell away. The cool air against my skin pebbled my nipples. He let out a hiss of desire before nudging my back to the doorframe and covering the peak with his lips.
Sharp, needy gasps spilled over my tongue. I held the back of his head, drawing him closer. Erik sucked and lapped at my skin. His teeth scraped over the point as he bit down on the tip, flicking his tongue.
My core throbbed. I bucked into his hips, already desperate for release. His touch was a beautiful curse, one taste, and I could never get enough.
I hooked my thumbs into the waist of his trousers and shoved them over his hips. His cock sprang out. Erik groaned into my breast when I curled my hand around the velvet skin and stroked.
“Songbird.” He lifted his head, eyes like gold fire.
