Chapter 58

CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT

MAEVYTH

M y pulse hastened as I watched Zevander doff the jacket he’d worn to The Becoming Ceremony, leaving him in the black tunic and trousers.

I’d never slept beside a man in my life.

Keeping my eyes from him, I removed the cloak he’d loaned me, draping it over a wooden chair by the window. A firelamp flickered on the table beside the bed, casting shadows of our bodies against the wall, and as I looked up to Zevander’s, I watched him slide off his boots.

“I’ll sleep on the floor,” he said.

With a slight smile, I turned to face him, watching him unlace his trousers. Clearing my throat, I turned away, eyes wide with distress. “Don’t be silly. The floor is hard planks. I’m sure it’s entirely uncomfortable.”

“I’ve slept on worse.”

“When you were … prisoner to the Solassions?” I recalled the story Dolion had told me.

“Yes.” The clipped tone of his voice told me not to prod any further.

“Still, I insist on sharing. It would trouble me to have the whole bed to myself.” I unclasped the scorpion necklace and stared down at the long, elegant gown that would surely take up most of the room on the bed. As if reading my thoughts, he hooked his fingers beneath the hem of his tunic and yanked it over his head. My heart shot to my throat on seeing his brutally muscled form, each groove carved to perfection. A warrior’s body, his skin slashed by the scars of what I imagined were weapons that’d been used against him.

I begged myself to look away, but it was the other scars that prodded my gaze to linger. The ones that suggested a darker intention. Malicious scars that criss-crossed over each other, as if he’d been violently struck.

He handed off the tunic and turned around, perhaps offering me privacy while he unstrapped the weapons down his thigh and across his waist, unbuckling the holster that held them.

I glanced away only a moment, before my eyes were once again drawn to his body. Stretched from one shoulder to the other was an enormous, inked scorpion that failed to cover the multitude of scars carved into his back, as well. As he moved, his muscles flexed, and my fingers tingled with the urge to touch his skin.

Swallowing a gulp, I turned my back to him and tugged my arms from the wretched dress that held me trapped in the fabric. It fell to my mid-section, caught by the narrow bodice that cinched my waist. Stealing a moment to clean the black ooze that’d trickled out of Uncle Felix from my skin, I dipped one of the cloths into the basin and washed my shoulders and chest. When I dragged the rag over my arms, I noticed the cut from earlier, the one Zevander had palpated, had already healed, leaving only a small sealed mark on my skin. No bites from the spiders, thank goodness. Arms crossed over my breasts, a quick glance over my shoulder showed him quickly looking away, and in his profile, I watched his brows lower with a scowl.

It was then I remembered my own scars.

“Someone struck you,” he said, his jagged voice brimming with tension.

“When I was young. Soldiers from my village. Seemed my mouth got me in trouble again.”

He made a gruff sound of disapproval in his throat, but said nothing more, and I slipped into the oversized tunic that reached my knees.

Pushing the bodice over my hips, I let the dress fall beneath the cover of the tunic, the stark cold reminding me I wasn’t wearing undergarments after Uncle Felix had torn them away. I yanked the quilt from the bed and climbed onto the thin mattress, scooting myself as close to the wall as I could, to allow him room. Once settled under the covers, I faced the wall and dared to point out the obvious. “Someone struck you, as well.”

“Solassion soldiers.” He climbed onto the bed beside me, his massive presence, at close proximity, prickling every nerve across my skin.

When he turned off the firelamp, the light in the room died down to nothing more than the silvery bands of moonlight shining in through the window.

The room fell to quietness, with only the sound of my unsteady breaths.

“Seemed they didn’t like the mouth I had on me, as well,” he said, breaking the lingering silence between us.

In the darkness, I smiled. “Well, imagine that. We have something in common.”

“Perhaps. Though, I dare say, your tongue is sharper than mine.” His comment made me chuckle.

Another bout of silence between us.

“Am I making you nervous lying here?”

The pleasurable tone of his deep voice certainly didn’t calm the roistering flock of butterflies in my stomach.“No,” I lied.

“Have you lain with a man before?”

The question sent a hot flush to my cheeks, stirring an irritation. “If you must know, no. I have not.”

“Good.”

Frowning, I turned my head. “Good?”

“Yes,” he said, casually, and as he shifted on the bed, his massive leg brushed mine.

I turned back over, puzzling his words for far longer than I should have. Nearly two minutes must’ve passed before curiosity drove me mad enough to ask, “Why is that good?”

He groaned. “Must you always prod for an explanation?”

“Yes. I like to have clarity of thought. Why are you so hesitant to say?”

“I’m not hesitant.”

“Well, you’re not saying.”

A growl rumbled from his chest. “Because I’m a jealous cunt who refuses to entertain thoughts of you lying next to another man. Is that explanation enough?”

I hardly imagined he’d come forth with anything even remotely close to that. Pinching my lips failed to contain the smile tugging at my mouth. Because, as pathetic as I may have been for it, I happened to enjoy the game of push and pull between us. The tension that left me constantly guessing.

I cleared my throat, banishing my amusement. “So jealous, you tried to assassinate me that night you came to my room while I slept.”

He exhaled a forced breath. “I did.”

“And why didn’t you carry through with it?”

“Am I to believe you’re disappointed that I didn’t kill you?”

“I’m simply curious as to why.”

“You want the truth?”

“Always, yes.”

“Your snoring.”

“What?” Heat flared in my cheeks. “I don’t …. I don’t snore .”

“You do. Was awful that night. Scared me shitless.”

I pressed my lips together, half burying my face into the pillow to hide a giggle at the visual of that.

“You’re laughing. I can feel the bed shaking.” His comment made me laugh more, and the more I tried to hide it, the more my body shook with the effort.

“I do … not snore.” My tone refused to be serious, no matter how much I fought to reel in the laughter.

“Honestly, I wouldn’t have been surprised to see fire coming out of your nostrils.”

A wheeze of laughter had me turning into the pillow, and tears sprang to my eyes.

“I believe it when you say you see the dead. That racket was enough to wake them for sure.”

Not even the pillow could entirely subdue the howl of laughter that tore out of me.

He let out a chuckle, and it was then I realized that it was the first time I’d really heard him laugh. The sound, so deep and unexpected, distracted me from my own.

The laughter died down to quiet again. How strange to find even a small measure of mirth when the world felt like it was crumbling around us. My thoughts spun back to the conversation with Elowen earlier, and the possibility that Aleysia was very likely dead. “Zevander?”

“Yeah.”

“Perhaps we should return to Nyxteros tomorrow. I’m …. Given the state of things. I just don’t imagine Aleysia would …” I couldn’t say it. Of course, I knew she was strong, but I just couldn’t imagine her surviving such a world. “I don’t want to give up–” My voice cracked and I cleared my throat.

“If she’s alive, Maevyth, it’s by the grace of the gods. No mortal stands a chance against Cadavros.”

“But if there’s a chance?”

“Wait until morning to decide. Assuming all hell doesn’t break loose tonight.”

I blinked to hold back tears and nodded. “Okay, we’ll wait until morning, then.” Turning back over, I let out a sigh of relief. “Thank you for coming after me.” The thought of being there alone brought more tears to my eyes.

A long pause followed. “You’re welcome.”

The room fell to a deafening quiet once again, as I lay staring at the cob walls that gave off an earthen odor.

Zevander shifted behind me, his bulky body jostling me around. I tilted back toward him, and when something brushed my backside, my body tautened. I jolted forward, kicking my leg out against his thigh.

“Oh! I’m sorry,” I said, scooting myself closer to the wall.

“Are you not wearing undergarments?”

Brows pinched to a frown, I turned to the side. “Did you intentionally touch me there?”

“Not intentionally.” In my periphery, I saw him slide his arm beneath his head. “Can’t say I regret it, though.”

I ran my tongue across my back teeth, slightly irritated and wholly embarrassed. “Well, I didn’t intentionally not wear them.”

“You unintentionally didn’t wear them?”

“They were … torn away by the creature that used to be my step-uncle. He was trying to–” I choked off the last bit, refusing to put myself back in that nightmarish moment. Acids shot to my throat at the visual of his manhood dangling over me.

Zevander made another sound of disapproval in his throat. “And did he burn with the house?” he asked through clenched teeth.

“Yes.”

“Pity. I’d have liked to divest him of his hands.”

“Well, you’d have had to piece them back together first.”

I heard him shift behind me. “Oh?”

“It seems I learned the spinal whip rather quickly while my virtue was in jeopardy.” When I glanced over my shoulder, I caught the dimple in his cheek, as if the thought of that pleased him. Strange, how much I liked the idea of pleasing him.

“How did it feel?”

“I don’t know. I was terrified at the time. Relieved, but also … confused.” Lying as far away from him as I was, I could feel the air leaking through the walls, and I wasn’t entirely certain whether it was the bitter chill, or the memory of that moment, that left me shivering right then.

“You’re cold,” he said.

“A little.”

The bed jostled again with his movement, and a radiant heat enveloped me as he wrapped his arm around me, drawing me back into his body.

“What are you doing?” I asked, startled by his hard chest pressed into my back and the bulge in his trousers that I could feel against my backside.

“Body heat. Best way to stay warm.”

Pride urged me to fight his embrace, but it felt too good. Far too intimate, yet still, I didn’t protest. Eyes glued to the wall, I took in the feel of his arm banded around my stomach, his broad chest at my back like a shield. How small and safe I felt beside him, like nothing and no one could possibly touch me.

While I no longer felt cold, my body continued to shiver. Much as I tried to calm myself, I couldn’t help but imagine his hands slipping up the hem of the shirt, the thought of which had me trembling harder.

“You’re worried I’m going to touch you.” The lazy baritone of his voice, when he said it, sent another ripple down my spine, and I shuttered my eyes, imagining darkly wicked words spoken in that timbre. “I promise to be a gentleman, in spite of the fact that you unintentionally have no undergarments on.”

“Do you find it difficult, lying beside a woman this way?”

“As a general rule? No. But when that woman is you? Yes.”

Like the strike of a match, his words set me aflame. The knot in my belly wound tighter, and I crossed my legs over one another, the ache to be touched, the curiosity of what his fingertips would feel like against my flesh, unbearable. I needed something. Distraction. Anger. Anything to keep me from imagining his fingers languorously exploring my body in the dark.

I exhaled a shaky breath. “Surely you’ve enjoyed the pleasures of other women,” I said, squeezing my legs tighter when a visual of him in the throes of sex came to mind. How utterly delicious he must’ve looked, with his muscles coated in sweat and those fiery eyes fixated.

“I have,” he answered, the frustration of his aloof response cooling the fire inside of me.

“How many?” The more he irritated me with his answers, the faster this longing would fizzle away.

“Not enough to drown the urges I’m feeling now.”

A greedy desire pulsed through me, and I gripped the pillow to keep from doing something foolish, like reaching back to feel just how big that bulge was. “Perhaps you should take care of that then.”

He let out a dark chuckle, and god, the sound of it failed to abate whatever clawed inside of me right then. “Are you suggesting that I relieve myself here, beside you?”

“Of course not,” I answered quickly, though the visual of that nearly broke me. “I’m merely suggesting that if you’re uncomfortable lying next to me, perhaps you should do whatever it is men do for that.”

“You’ve never seen it done before.” The air of amusement in his voice gnawed at me.

“Do you enjoy making me uncomfortable?”

“If I’m being honest, yes. Blush looks good on you.”

Gnashing my teeth, the unbearable tension, coupled with embarrassment, had my cheeks burning, and I pushed at his steely arm still banded around me. “Fine. I’ll sleep by the hearth. At least it won’t find amusement at my naiveté, or whatever it is you think is so entertaining.”

As I pushed myself up to crawl out of bed, he tightened his hold and threw me back down against the mattress on a blast of air from my lungs. The gesture triggered my defenses, and I squirmed to get loose, scratching at his arm that held me imprisoned.

“Let me go!” I snarled, but he wrapped his muscled leg over mine, trapping me beneath him.The way he so effortlessly held me down, as if I were nothing but a weak child, only fueled my irritation. Temper ignited, I kicked upward, accidentally hitting him in what I estimated to be his groin, and he let out a quiet growl. Whatever small bit of remorse I felt for that was quickly smothered when he pressed into my body, caging me in his brawny arms.

Squirming for freedom, my legs rubbed against his, and the shirt inched its way up my thighs. “Release me now!”

The struggle ensued, and I ground my teeth, arching my back to break his grip, but it was futile and I’d grown tired.

“Shhhh,” he whispered in my ear, wrangling me closer, and buried his face in my hair. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

I stilled at the hypnotically calm tone of his voice, the breath sawing in and out of me as I abandoned my fight.

His chest rose and fell with his heaving breaths, and he let out a wry chuckle. “Fucking hell, you are a vicious little rosebud. One minute, you’re soft and inviting, the next, you’re thorns and blood.”

“What blood?”

He lifted his arm where I’d scratched him, tiny red rivulets trickling down his skin over the scorpion and flames. Once again, I felt a small bit of remorse.

“Had you not taunted me with your …” I clamped the spicy words on my tongue that begged to be cut loose. “I’m not as naive as you think. I’m well aware you’ve got all this … experience with women. And that you think I’m just this stupid little mortal who–”

His lips seized mine, silencing me.

Stunned, I lay paralyzed in his grip, the argument dying in my throat. While my stubborn temper begged me to push him off, screamed at me to smack his annoyingly handsome face for daring to quiet me that way, the battle in my head was quickly lost in one bitter swallow. My bones melted, softening, as he pushed up onto his elbow and threaded his fingers through my hair. Slow and lazy, he ran his tongue over my lips, licking, tasting, exploring.

I savored the flavor of whatever bitter liquor Elowen had given him that lingered on his lips. That sensuously delicious spice and flame, which mingled with the musk and ambery clove of his skin. An intoxicating medley that consumed me.

His hands drifted to the small of my back, and I gripped his thick biceps as he dragged me even closer. With a sweep of his tongue, he deepened the kiss and groaned against my mouth. Even while lying down, dizziness swept over me, and I opened my eyes, worried that I might faint. Shadowy wisps danced around us, burrowing in and out of my flesh in pleasurable bursts, and I moaned, the sound vibrating against our joined lips.

His fingers tightened around me, and he kissed me harder, sealing off the oxygen. Calloused palms slid down to the hem of the tunic he’d let me borrow, and never breaking the kiss, he grabbed my thigh in a bruising grip, letting out a grunt when he pressed his groin against me.

Heat surged beneath my skin and across my palms. My heart beat a strange rhythm that sent a wave of panic through me. I pushed against his chest to sever the kiss, and in resting my hand there, felt the rhythm of his heart, beating in time to mine. As if in perfect sync with one another. The cadence of it calmed me, and I could feel myself growing weak, drifting, floating, lifting out of my body. What was this strange sensation?

I surrendered myself to it. To him.

His hand slid higher. Higher. Until he found the fleshy cheeks of my naked bottom and squeezed. The bulge in his trousers pressed hard against the very spot where I ached to be touched.

As if he’d heard my thoughts, his palm glided across my hip, dancing over bones and curves with maddening patience.

I looked up to see him staring down at me, and my heart ratcheted in my chest as his fingertips drifted lower, until he found the apex of my thighs. Breath caught in my throat, I spread my legs apart, an invitation, one I desperately hoped he’d accept.

He licked his lips, and the moment his fingers found the bare seam of my flesh, his eyes shuttered closed. A deep, guttural sound rumbled out of him, like that of a dangerous animal, rousing an obscene need to be ravaged.

Clutching his biceps, I exhaled a shaky breath, my thighs trembling, as I held them apart for him. Prickles of excitement and fear clashed inside my head, my arms shaking while I gripped him tightly, allowing him to explore my flesh.

In long, lazy strokes, he ran his finger up and down my wet slit, his dangerously expert touch sending my muscles into a frenzy, until clenching and shaking with his fondling. As if he knew what I needed, possessed some intimate knowledge of my body that I didn’t. His other hand found my breast, and through the thin tunic, he rubbed tiny circles over my nipple, bringing it to a hardened peak. The maddening combination consumed my senses, swallowed me in a wave of pure ecstasy.

A mewling sound leaked from my mouth, as he worked me into a knot of tension, and he pressed his lips to mine. “Shhh. I wouldn’t want the old woman to think I’m hurting you.”

I smiled and nodded, my hips shamelessly circling against him, desperate for his fingers, his tongue. Anything to relieve the unrelenting ache he’d stirred. The feral longing that writhed in my chest, climbing the bones of my ribcage, like an ensnared animal. Lip caught between my teeth, I pressed the crown of my head into the pillow, the urge to bite something curling through my muscles.

He pushed up inside of me, curving that wicked digit back, and touched a sensitive spot that had me arching into him. “Gods be damned. So wet and needy.” His teeth found the ticklish crook of my neck, and as he added more pressure, I arched higher, dragging my heels over the mattress.

Through the fabric of the shirt, he pulled on my nipple and plunged his fingers in and out of me in long, slickening strokes. “Should I stop, Lunamiszka ?”

I frantically shook my head. “No, please. Don’t stop.”

He dragged his nose along my throat and licked my hammering pulse. “Your scent is stirring my appetite.” The moment his fingers slid out of me, my muscles sagged with disappointment.

I opened my eyes to see him shove his fingers into his mouth, sucking away the shine of my arousal, and god, the sight of him sent a deep, cramping need between my thighs.

He climbed over top of me, his body a massive shadow that eclipsed the moon’s light, and he licked his lips before canting his head just enough to kiss me. The bed creaked as he sat back and tugged my legs, pulling me onto his lap with ease, his hard and massive bulge pressed into my aching core.

“Your beauty is unrivaled, Maevyth.” Hands gripping my bottom, he buried his face in my neck, planting kisses across my throat and collarbone. Goosebumps scattered across my flesh as he ran his tongue along the column of my neck. Lost to the sensation, I let him lure me into euphoria, until, like a zap of lightning, teeth sank into the base of my throat, not hard enough to draw blood, but enough that my whole body tensed around him. The bliss from moments ago spiraled into something darker. Something raw and primal that burned in my blood. A wicked and hungry desire swelling inside of me, begging to be fed.

Legs wrapped around his back, I gripped his shoulders as he kissed and nipped my throat.

His hand slid down between my thighs again, and as I sat straddling him, he pushed two fingers inside of me.

The monstrous agony pulsing in my belly awakened again and welcomed the intrusion with overwhelming relief. I tipped my head back, mouth agape, the air stuttering in my lungs as I surrendered to it.

He knew exactly where to touch me. How to touch me. Slow and languid, he braced one hand on the mattress and let his hips follow each plunge of his fingers, as if his cock were thrusting inside of me, while his sturdy thighs held me open, while his eyes remained riveted on me. Watching me. His muscles flexed against my palms, and I wanted to capture the moment and mentally frame it in my mind forever. How ravishing and powerful he looked right then. Elegantly brutal, but with a gleam of boyish fascination.

He upped the pace, and I circled my hips, grinding my bottom against his thighs, the ache only relieved when he thrusted into me. Harder.

A moan escaped me, and I dug my nails into his biceps, scratching and clawing, starving for whatever it was that twisted in my stomach. The need he stirred inside of me stretched and writhed, tightening my muscles. “Please,” I rasped, though I didn’t have a clue what I was begging for, what lurked on the other side of this delicious tension. Agony and pleasure curled through me, the desperation so overwhelming, I bit down on his shoulder with a shuddering breath and whimpered.

“Cursed gods, you are a ferociously breathtaking creature when you’re ravenous.” The dark amusement in his voice mirrored the devilish glint in his eyes. “I wonder what sounds will spill from your lips when your thighs are trembling against my palms and your sweet nectar wets my tongue.” His words wrenched a tearless sob from my chest as my blood burned hotter, this merciless craving unbearable.

Spinning our positions, he lay me back against the pillow again, bracing his body over mine, his greedy fingers plundering in time to the wet sounds that would’ve had me blushing had I not been so lust-drunk.

I arched into him, taking in the feel of his solid chest against my breasts, his body hard and unyielding—a prison, from which I never wanted to escape.

A searing heat snaked beneath my skin, and I turned to find black flames dancing on the perimeter of the bed.

The rational side of my brain urged me to scramble away or risk burning alive, but I was too intoxicated, too far gone to care. Whatever magic Zevander wielded between my thighs right then left me both pliant and weak with pleasure.

The frail and tired wood of the bed’s frame remained intact, sturdy, as it quietly squealed with his movements, the flame merely dancing across its surface as though reveling in the sight of us. One jolting curve of Zevander’s finger hit a sensitive ball of nerves deep inside of me and I mindlessly rolled my head against thepillow,the pleasure burning low in my belly. Winding and tightening as he toyed with it,mercilessly rubbing and tickling me to a fevered state.Before I could release the scream cocked at the back of my throat, he covered my mouth with his hand, trapping the sound against his palm.

The torment fizzled when he removed his fingers from inside me, and as he lifted the tunic’s hem, baring my flesh, he sat back, releasing a long exhale, his gaze never wavering from between my thighs. “Fuck,” he said, the awe in his voice lessening the anxious thoughts swirling in my head. He ran his hand through his hair and down his face. “A thousand times I’ve fantasized this moment, and still, I failed to imagine you’d be this perfect.”

With little effort, he banded his arms around my thighs and lifted my sex to his face, hiking my legs over his shoulders as he sat back on his heels. My body slid closer, the back of my head pressed into the mattress. From that angle, I could see up the length of my torso to where he stared down at me. Eyes on me, he dipped his head, and when he dragged the broad width of his tongue across my flesh, my stomach and toes curled. A coppery taste prickled my tongue as I bit my lip hard, fighting the urge to cry out while watching him watch me, as he voraciously devoured me. I didn’t need experience to know the man was a master at his skill. Every drag and flick of his tongue arrived in perfect timing and cadence, building and climbing.

He moaned and grunted, fingers digging into my thighs as he held me to his face, feasting on me like a starved animal. The sight of him made me ravenous, as he’d said, and I clutched the blankets, desperate to dig my nails into something as the tension heightened inside of me.

“Oh, god please,” I whispered and I grabbed the pillow from beneath me, smashing it over my face to smother a long, droning moan that I breathed into the damp cotton.

Ribbons of heat weaved through my muscles, and eyes shuttered, I surrendered to the chaos that burrowed into my bones. Weightlessness settled over me, and lowering the pillow away, I opened my eyes. The ceiling above was closer than before and craning my neck showed the bed below where I hovered. I gasped with a jolt on realizing I was suspended in the air, the flickering black flames crackling around me. When I swung my undoubtedly shocked gaze back to Zevander, a smirk curved his lips, those knowing, devilish eyes studying my reaction.

He held his palms up and with one flick of his fingers, my body floated toward him until I was straddling his face in the air. “Erigorisz,” he said and swept his tongue across his lips. “Perhaps one of the more useful glyphs.” Strong hands gripped my thighs, as he resumed his torment and my preoccupations, every silent speculation, burned and fizzled away with the delicious sweep of his unforgiving tongue. His mouth consumed my mind with the same voracious appetite that he devoured my swollen flesh.

Writhing and moaning, I hugged the pillow against my chest, my body stiffening, tightening as the heat intensified and my muscles twisted in pleasure. Winding tighter and tighter. My thighs shook around him, my toes curled, digging into his muscled shoulders, while a need that bordered on pain throbbed with each lazy stroke of his tongue.

Every thought in my head spiraled into focus—the unyielding grip of his palms, the stubble on his cheek and wet fullness of his lips when he sucked at my tender folds.

The world faded around me, the quiet sounds of sucking and moaning and kissing drawing me into a dark hypnotic space where only he and I existed.

Tension beating through my veins heightened, then snapped inside of me, and holding the pillow to my face, I jerked my hips forward on a scream that drowned in the plush, feathery barrier.

A distant cracking sound, like a fracture, hardly registered over the pulsing waves of pleasure that burst across my thighs and shot to my limbs in warm tingles, and I circled my hips in the air, grinding out the last bits of release.

As my body settled, he lowered me to the bed and tore the pillow from my face, staring down at me with a reverent gleam in his eyes, a glint of adoration that knotted my stomach.

“I dare you to look her in the eyes!” Unbidden voices bubbled from the darkest corner of my memories. “ Look the lorn in the eye and every one you love will die!” The taunting rhymes from other children, and the scorn of their parents who quietly laughed along with them. Years of rejection and ostracism carved into my thoughts with sharp-edged tongues.

Zevander looked at me as if I were something more than the disparaging word that’d been hammered into me since I was found by the edge of the woods: unwanted . Lorn . He looked at me as if I was worthy of being seen.

The emotion sank its teeth into me, and I turned away from him, willing myself to hold back the tears that would surely destroy this moment between us.

“You look like a goddess right now,” he whispered, burying his face in my neck, kissing me. He ghosted his mouth over my jaw, my cheek, until he finally crushed his lips to mine. “And you taste as divine.”

Poisonous thoughts stabbed my mind, urging me not to trust his words. He’s lying . A quiet fear crawled beneath my skin, winding itself in my bones. Zevander had somehow managed to dig his fingers past sharp ribs and into the stoniest corner of my heart. A place so few had ever tenanted. I didn’t trust its walls, nor its strength. Not when every person I’d grown to love had been torn away from me. What would having breached that fragile boundary into something more intimate mean for us?

Eyes screwed shut, I pushed those thoughts away. Because even if he was lying, even if this was nothing more than temporary, it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered in this place where death loomed beyond the walls. We were sketching an illusion of normalcy in a world too dark to imagine. A place that longed to devour us. Here, in this little hovel, with our bodies entwined and our hearts beating in sync, we transcended death, existing on our own plane.

Our own uncharted terrain.

The magic and heat between us warned of something explosive. Something I’d never find in another so long as I lived. A sensation that would inevitably consume me like those wicked black flames he wielded. Better to have experienced that passion and watched it fade like a dying star than to have never known it at all.

“You are destructive in the throes of climax.”

Still ruminating in the aftermath, I smiled through my preoccupations. “How so?”

He jerked his head back, and I pushed up onto my elbows to find the flames had retreated, allowing a perfect view of a long crack in the window’s pane across the room.

“I did that?”

“When you screamed.” He pulled me into him and kissed my forehead. “Not that I’m complaining. That is a sound I’ll never tire of hearing.”

“You’ve heard it before, have you?” I teased.

To my horror, he said, “I have.” An unflinching gaze met mine. “The night you drank too much Ambrozhyr,” he added with a shameless air of amusement. A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, as though recalling that night held some humor, the thought, once again, stirring an unsettling mortification in the pit of my gut.

“Did we …”

“No. As open as you seemed to be to the idea of that, I wouldn’t touch a woman in such a state.” He let out a sigh. “But I surely enjoyed watching you.”

“Watching me do what?” No sooner had I said the words, I recalled my undergarments having been slung mid-thigh and the wetness of my sheets. Humiliation flared in my cheeks while flickers of memory flashed through my mind. Whispered words and heavy breaths. The decadent sound of his voice in my ear. An exhilarating sensation that stirred between my thighs all over again.

My slack jaw clenched with embarrassment, as I imagined how I must’ve looked that night. “So happy to have entertained you,” I spat.

“I was only there to make sure you didn’t hurt yourself. Seems I was the only one left in pain.”

I winced at that, reminded that the only reason he’d need to have been concerned was because I had consumed far too much Ambrozhyr that night. “I’m sorry. However I might’ve been the cause of it.”

He tucked his bent arm beneath his head. “It’s a pain I’m quite familiar with, unfortunately.”

In a subtle a gesture as I could muster, I glanced down to the massive bulge tenting his trousers and back. “This pain is of a sexual nature?”

His lip twitched. “It is.”

I rested my hand against his chest and traced a small scar below his collarbone. While I knew very little of a man’s body, I wondered how I might ease him of this ache. On a whim of madness, I skated my hand down his chest, to the deep grooves of his muscled stomach that twitched with my caress. The hem of his trousers tickled the bottom of my palm, and I dared myself to reach inside. To lay my unrelenting curiosities to rest.

He stilled, his body rigid, as he seemed to realize my intent.

I reached lower, only nudging his tip.

All at once, Zevander broke away, turning his face from mine, and took long, heaving breaths. He unthreaded his hands from my hair and fell to the side of me. At first, I thought he’d sought a better angle to reach down inside his pants, but when I attempted to resume my explorations, he took hold of my wrist. “Please,” he said through clenched teeth.

The poisonous thoughts from moments ago bubbled like a cauldron inside my head, and with a nod, I pulled my hand away from him. “If you do not want me to touch you, I will respect your wishes.”

He quickly captured my retreating hand and held it to his chest, as if to assure me it wasn’t rejection. “I want you. I want you so desperately that I’d kill anything with a pulse just to have you for one night. This insatiable craving I feel …” A muscle in his jaw twitched with the tension in his words and he squeezed my hand. “I can’t fucking breathe. I ache for you, Maevyth. Believe me when I say this.”

But he didn’t bother to say why he hesitated.

And I didn’t bother to ask.