24. TWENTY FOUR

twenty-four

THE EXISTENCE IN BETWEEN

A dull ache pounds in my skull, a remnant of last night’s shenanigans with Archie. I rub circles on my temples as sunlight leaks into my room. With a groan, I push up to my feet.

“Daeja?”

“Mmphmm?” Her voice is gravelly.

“How has practicing the disappearing thing been coming along? Any luck?”

“No...no luck.”

I frown. That’ll make things a bit harder, considering we’re to stay in camp until Cole gets the map. “That’s okay, keep practicing. Cole says he’s working on getting a map for us and we’ll wait for a moonless night and be on our way to the Dragon Lands. In the meantime, I’ll be practicing sparring. If you feel any sort of pain...don’t worry about me. I’ll let you know if I’m seriously hurt. Don’t come barging in to save me, okay?”

She snorts in annoyance, the sound loud enough I flinch.

“No promises.”

“Daeja,” I scold. “ I don’t need you to save me, I won’t be in danger. And if someone sees you, you’ll blow our cover. At least for the next few weeks, I need you to keep a low profile.”

Her growl rumbles in my blood. “ Fine. But I refuse to stand by if your life is at risk.”

Little does she know, our relationship alone is grounds for that.

“Thank you.”

She falls silent as she slips back into sleep, further proving my theory she’s something nocturnal. Tucking the bottle Archie and I drank last night into my side underneath my tunic, I head to the healer’s quadrant. Hopefully, I’m early enough to beat Marge so I can return the bottle unnoticed. Cole’s mention of inventory counts rings in my mind, and I wonder if they also tracked the supplies in the healer’s quadrant. Though, I recall Darian hadn’t appeared to be concerned. Even Marge’s biggest worry seemed to be drinking etiquette. As long as we weren’t drinking directly from the bottle like Darian was… oops. Guess what she doesn’t know won’t hurt her.

Opening the cabinet, I tuck the bottle back onto its shelf as the door opens.

“What are you doing?” Marge’s gaze narrows in on me.

“I...” Shit. I can’t even lie at this point. “I’m returning this.”

She hobbles over, raking me with a glare, and rips the bottle from my hands. “That’s not where that goes.”

I stiffen, waiting for her to insult or berate me. But she doesn’t. She slides the bottle back onto a different shelf.

She looks me up and down, her eyebrow raised. “You look a little disheveled this morning.”

I snort at her honesty. “Good morning to you too, Marge.”

“Ginger.”

“Excuse me?”

She sighs. “Ginger. It’s good for the morning fog.”

Even after I’ve finished the concoction she makes me, my head still pounds. My fingertips are uncomfortably swollen as I steady the broom in my hands and sweep the floors. I’m halfway through the healer’s quadrant when Marge turns to me.

“You’re dismissed for the day.”

“What? Why?” I glance down at the pile of dirt I’ve swept and all around me, expecting I’m making a bigger mess than I’m cleaning, and that’s why she wanted me out.

“Because you’re a bit lousy when you’ve had too much to drink the night before.” She shoos me along with a flicker of her wrist.

I open my mouth to reply, my cheeks heating.

She shakes her head. “You come back tomorrow. Fresh.”

“Okay,” I agree, hesitantly. “I’m sorry, Marge.”

She dips her head, and I leave the healer’s quadrant for my room.

Walking through the outpost, I pick out my angled roof stretching into the sky ahead, when a shadow sweeps straight toward me. Darian eyes me, his gaze picking me apart from head to toe.

I jut left to walk around him, and he mirrors my move. Pivoting, I move right instead, and he follows. What was supposed to be an easy, quick return to my room has become an awkward dance of steps and with someone I wouldn’t be particularly fond of dancing with. The first two instances I would have pinned as an accident. But with Darian, I know he’s toying with me.

Admittedly, I’m a bit too hungover to tolerate it, my self-discipline wearing thin. “Can you get the fuck out of my way?”

There’s that stupid, delirious tilt to his lips. “And what is the reason you’re in such a pleasant mood this morning?”

I growl through gritted teeth to keep myself from shoving him out of my way. “You’re aggravating—”

“—ly handsome?” He tilts his chin up, watching me.

“No. There was no continuation of that sentence.” I slide to the left, trying to inch around him.

But he slithers along with me, each step closer and closer. “Well, I can think of a way to fix both of our attitudes…”

“If it’s not fighting you, then I have no interest.” My shoulder clips his arm as I shove past him.

“How disappointing. I would have proposed a different ‘F’ verb,” he tosses over his shoulder.

I don’t even bother to look back. Instead, I raise my middle finger at him as I walk back to my room.

I managed to rest for a few hours until everyone gathered for sparring practice. My raging headache slowed to a more tolerable level. At sparring practice, Cole calls for volunteers, and Melaina rises first. I jump to my feet, eager to prove myself. Archie’s face sags in disappointment. But I know Melaina won’t take it easy on me. She also won’t fuck with me like Darian did.

Cole and Melaina exchange a hesitant look, but Melaina reluctantly agrees with a silent nod. The two of us ready our stances in the center of the clearing, eyes trained on the other, swords held in preparation.

Twenty-two seconds…if I can make it that long, I’ll be proud of myself.

“You can do all of that and more,” Daeja coos in the distance, reading my mind.

A smile tugs at my lips, my spirits instantly lifting.

Melaina and I explode into a frenzy—swinging, cutting, and thrusting. I have to say, I’m jealous of how graceful she is in the way she spins and swings. And here I am, sweating and breathing heavily, my hair stuck to the nape of my neck.

Only a minute passes until she disarms me, but at least I made it longer than I anticipated.

If I can’t hold my own against someone in the same squad, how am I to ever fight against an actual opponent? Self-doubt creeps in as stealthy as a lion. The only potentially dangerous thing about me is I have a dragon.

Melaina plucks my sword from the ground and hands it to me, and we both walk out of the center together.

“Has anyone ever told you, you’re a little obvious?” Melaina murmurs as we join the group of onlookers.

“A little obvious?” I repeat, unsure of where this conversation is about to go.

“When you’re about to swing left, you kind of take a half-step forward. It makes it predictable what your next move is going to be.”

“Oh…I didn’t realize.”

She pulls me back by my elbow, further away from the crowd. “That’s okay, I used to do the same thing, until my father pointed it out. Here. Stand straight, balance your weight between your legs, and bend your knees. No. Not that far—like this,” she instructs and demonstrates the steps.

“So when I swing at you…” She pulls her blade down, slow across mine. “It’s easier to block. Or maneuver for a strike.”

I nod and twist my wrist to flick her sword away from me.

She nods her head. “Good! Just keep practicing like that.”

“Thanks, Melaina.” I grin. “Did you learn sword fighting from your father?”

“Yes. He was Jurrock’s second in command. So whenever he was home, he would teach me how to defend myself. My mother was never a fan of it, so we often did it in secret.” She chuckles at the memory.

A twinge of envy twists my heart that she had the opportunity to have such a memory with her father.

Her full lips fall as she gazes down at her sword. “I learned the rest from Nolan and Gavin when he died.”

I frown. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”

She nods, eyes still fixed on her sword. The weapon’s silver sheen is mottled with patina, the hilt shining in comparison to the condition of its blade.

One of her dark fingers caresses the length of the metal. “Thank you. He died an honorable death years ago. Rebels attacked a town and tried setting it on fire. He was trapped, and this was all that was left of him.”

I stiffen as I think of Hornwood, hoping the color doesn’t drain from my face. My memory rolls over me like a fog. I swallow hard, trying to push through the tension collecting in my throat. The memory of my mother dying in the fire all those months ago flashes in my mind.

A heavy sigh escapes her lips. “Then I joined the military, to save anyone else from having to lose their loved ones. My mother wasn’t too fond of the idea. I think the only reason she allowed me to is because of Nolan and Gavin.”

“Why do you say that?”

Melaina huffs and rolls her eyes. “Apparently, Gavin swore an oath to my father when he was his apprentice. He feels like he’s obligated out of honor to keep me safe. And Nolan, I’m not sure…I think my mother paid him. I keep thinking if I rise the ranks I can pay him to leave me alone.”

I glance over to where Nolan sits. His leg seems to have healed, although he’s been a bit hesitant to participate in sparring. Gavin sits next to him, quiet and still, thoughtfully watching a pair of soldiers sparring in the clearing. His raven black hair is swept back from his taut face.

“If it’s any reassurance, I think you’d do just fine without them,” I reply.

She smiles as she sheathes her sword. “Thanks, Katerina.”

“You can call me Kat.”

After dinner I slip into my room, closing my door behind me, and I freeze. Someone has been in my room. Laying atop my desk is a bundle of rich purple flowers, strikingly colorful in the muddy palette of my room. Their heavy floral scent wafts over me, and I absent-mindedly brush my thumb over a petal.

Alliums.

Only one person knows they’re my favorite flowers.

I blush at the thought of Cole stealing some moments away from his busy captain schedule to pick them for me. A giddy smile tightens my cheeks, and I bite into my lip.

A folded piece of paper is tucked into the flower’s stems. I pull it out, reading the note:

What you are to me, I may never be able to justify in the significance of words. But you are, always have been and always will be, my beginning and my end. And every breath of my existence in between.

My chest swells and bursts, each careful curve of Cole’s handwriting carving his name into the depths of my heart.

Once it’s dark enough, and the chatter of the squad around the campfire dies down outside, I slip off to Cole’s room, eager to thank him for such a thoughtful gesture before I head out to see Daeja.

Something has me hesitating at his door, but I push past it and tap against the wood. The door swings open, Cole’s face softening as he sees me. His ruffled red hair is swept in a handsome disaster across his brow, his shirt uncharacteristically wrinkled. The top few buttons of his tunic are undone, exposing part of his deeply muscled chest. I avert my eyes before I blush. He opens the door wider to let me in and shuts it softly behind me after I enter.

The soft glow of a candle warms his room, scattering exaggerated shadows across the floor. I tear my focus away from the flame, unease bubbling under my skin. Cole leans back against his door, watching me.

He isn’t wearing shoes. In fact, he isn’t wearing much at all. His belt is missing, along with the many layers of attire he normally wears. The lack of formality slams into my heart, reminding me of the humble, shy boy I met all those years ago.

“Sorry, were you sleeping?” I murmur.

He shakes his head. “No, just got back from patrol. Are you okay?”

He knows me all too well if he’s already picking up on how nervous I am. From the fire. I think. I swallow as he ghosts toward me and stops a step away from me. Clenching and unclenching my fists, I try to calm my frenzied anxiety at the thought of a live fire dancing freely behind me.

He tries once more, concern furrowing his eyebrow. “What’s wrong?”

When I hesitate to answer, he reaches forward and grabs my hand. My palms are slick when he squeezes his hand around mine.

“I haven’t uhh….” My gaze darts over to the candle, and while it’s a split second movement, he follows it.

I swallow hard. It sounds so silly saying it out loud. A fucking candle makes me nervous , of all things. Preposterous and pathetic, and yet, he crumbles every wall of defense I have with the soft caress of his calloused fingers.

“Since Hornwood, fire makes me nervous,” I finally whisper.

“I can fix that,” he says softly. Dropping my hand, he strides over to the candle and blows it out in a single breath.

Within a few blinks, my vision adjusts to the scattered light seeping through the door frame.

He returns to me, stopping a breath’s distance away. “When I was young I used to be scared of fire, too. It didn’t serve my father well, considering he expected me to assist him in the forge. He taught me fire can destroy, but it can also do other things. It can light our darkness in the night. It can meld things together, making them stronger than ever.”

My gaze skips to his mother’s metal ring nestled in the crevice of his chest. “Why did you leave me those flowers, Cole?”

His throat bobs. He’s still not close enough, his body rigid with tension. “Because I wanted to remind you how much you mean to me.”

A stupid smile rips across my face, despite my every effort to hide it.

A spark of heated electricity fills the air between us, and it’s only a matter of time before I’m struck. I make the first move, gliding toward him, and weave my fingers into his.

He shakes his head, flinching. “Kat, we shouldn’t…”

“We shouldn’t…what?” I ask innocently, pulling our intertwined hands to rest on my chest so he can feel how much my heart races for him. How much it calls for him. Desperation overrides my pride for the familiar intimacy we once had. I’m aching for his delicate touch and melting into a puddle of buzzing and burning desire. I long for his hands on me, tangled in my hair, his lips whispering against mine. Gods, the way he’d say my name.

“You don’t know what you do to me,” he says, nearly breathless.

Grabbing the backs of his arms, I push up onto my toes and kiss him lightly, and his hands rest on my hips. He gasps silently as I pull back from him, our noses brushing, and his eyes still closed. Resting his head forward on mine, he shakes his head wordlessly. I snag his collar, pull him down closer, and kiss him again. Our lips brush gently at first, until we transform into melding and molding. I flick my tongue across his lips, and he opens his mouth to me. We slow into a tantalizing tease and stroke of flesh and heat. Moving closer and closer until we are sharing shaky breaths. Each movement is more jerky, more frantic, more desperate.

Until, that is, he withdraws breathily. “We shouldn’t be doing this. We can’t, Kat. I—”

“I love you, too,” I whisper against his mouth and roll my body into his, sealing his lips closed with mine. If he thinks this is just sex, he’s sorely mistaken. And if he thinks I’ll desert him again, he’s wrong. It’s just him and him alone. And I need him. The intimacy, the closeness, and the fire of what we once were.

He staggers backwards, slamming back into his desk, the wood creaking at the sudden force. Withdrawing from my mouth, he flicks his attention to the door, his hands clenched tight around the lip of the desk, and the veins in his arms bulging with tension. He drags his gaze back to me, his breathing ragged. “I can’t. I can’t keep touching you. Because I won’t be able to stop myself.”

Sliding my hand up his chest to his face, I brush my thumb over his bottom lip before leaning in and kissing him. I cup the front of his trousers with my other hand, rubbing against his length as I murmur against his mouth, “I don’t want you to stop. I need you.”

He seizes my wrist, removing my hand from his crotch.

I look up at him through my lashes, my breath still heavy on my lips. “If you don’t want this, then just say it.”

He grunts. “It’s not that I don’t...”

“Then what? What is holding you back? I don’t need chivalry, Cole, I just need you. Tell me no if you don’t want this.”

“I...can’t,” he nearly whines, his grip around my hand trembling. His breath saws in and out of his chest, his hair even more of a mess than when I first came into his room. But there it is—raw desire roaring in the intensity of his eyes, locking me in and begging me to release him. The bands of muscle in his throat are pulled tight, his jaw clenched.

All of it releases in a single breath as he shakes his head. “Gods, I always want you. Every beat of my heart is a profession of what life you instill in me. The day I no longer want you will be the day I’m buried in the ground, far from feelings or thoughts. Because it’s you. Always you.”

“Then shut up, Cole.” I lean forward, pulling my wrist out from his weak grip. “Save the chivalry for some other time, and kiss me.”

He snakes his fingers through my hair and curls them into the strands at the base of my skull, leading me into him. His other hand rests on my lower back, pressing my hips into him. For the first time since I’ve been here, he kisses me. Actually kisses me. Slow and deliberate, strong and sure, his mouth claiming mine.

Finally.

As if brick by brick, the walls he’s fought so hard to keep fortified come crumbling down. Each movement more assertive.

I can’t help it. We’ve always been electric. But there’s a new edge to him—a new him I’m hungry to unravel. My mouth parts, and I tease his bottom lip with my tongue. He groans before opening his own mouth, and our tongues clash in a furious dance, a blistering heat sparking between us. Our movements catch fire, and there’s nothing left to do but burn.

His lips slide from my mouth down to my jawline, trailing his kisses lower toward my neck.

Brushing my hand down his shirt, I follow the muscles etched into his abdomen and dip my fingertips into his waistband. I slip my hand underneath his clothes and wrap my fingers around his hard length. He moans into the side of my neck, the sound rumbling against my skin. I smile triumphantly.

He grits out choppily as I stroke him. “You…make it…so…hard—”

“So I can tell.”

“—to have any self-control,” he finishes with a husky breath.

I lean forward, whispering against his ear, “Then let it go.”

The ferality he’s been hiding unleashes. A growl rumbles in his chest as he rips me off the ground into his arms, his hands gripping the back of my thighs as my legs wrap around his waist, my hands around his biceps to steady myself. He spins us, placing me on his desk.

We work together to tear my clothes off, and I fling them across the room. Now naked, I become painfully aware of how the months of traveling and lack of food pulls my skin taut over my bones. I shift, self-conscious of how different I must look compared to the last time he saw me.

A soft smile breaks his hardened features as he brushes a thumb over my cheek. “Gods, you’re infinitely beautiful.”

He dips his head low, taking his time as he delicately presses one kiss at a time along an invisible line drawn down the center of my body. My forehead, nose, lips, chin, the hollow of my throat, and between my breasts. Each touch melting every bit of my self-consciousness until it’s gone.

Knotting my hands in his hair, I tug him to my breast.

He grazes his teeth across the tip of my nipple before sucking it into his mouth. My head sinks back, hitting the desk with a moan. He presses a few fingers to my mouth to quiet me.

Switching his mouth to the other breast, his fingers knead the first one. I roll my hips up closer to him, and he unlatches his lips from my breast, his wolf-like eyes meeting mine through dark lowered brows. The most devious smile splits his lips, and he withdraws from me, kneeling down on the ground before me.

Grabbing my legs, he pulls me to the edge of the desk in one swift tug. He snatches my ankles and sweeps my legs up to rest on his shoulders. His glowing, yellow eyes stare up at me from between my naked legs.

“Is this what you want?” he rasps.

“Please...need,” is the best I can answer, my chest and core unbearably tight.

His fingers sink into my thighs, pulling them apart. A hot, wet flick skims my slit, and a shot of lightning rockets into my core. My hopelessly hungry body squirms in response for more. He obliges in a series of careful and slow flicks, licks, and sucks. I clap a hand over my mouth to keep myself quiet, squeezing my eyes shut to fight each whimper and moan squeaking out of my mouth. He quickens, chasing after my pleasure. Each movement quicker and firmer, until I’m teetering toward an edge I’m sure to fall off of.

I lunge forward, snatching his hair in my hands as if it’ll secure me. “Cole,” I whisper.

He digs his tongue deeper inside of me, his nose rubbing circles against my clit. My toes curl, and my thighs instinctively squeeze together, but he keeps them parted with sure hands.

“Cole!” I hiss again, my eyes flashing open.

He doesn’t stop, devouring me lick by lick. His eyes lazily flick up to meet mine, that all-knowing glint in his eyes. Gods, his eye contact alone makes me crumble.

My back arches off the desk, a cry slipping from my lips as I shatter. I slap a hand back over my mouth, silencing myself. His fingers dig harder into my inner thighs, pinning me open as he finishes me off.

When I stop trembling from the aftershocks, he plants a kiss on my slit and kisses up my body to my mouth. The ache and need rushes in again on a new tide.

We tear his clothes off and fling them to the floor like an afterthought. The dim light etches every crevice and angle of him in tantalizing shadows. My gaze crawls over every inch of him, down to the deep V cutting between his hips and dipping down to his eager cock.

Fuck, he is incredible. Every month here has chiseled the marble of him into a statuesque build that’s meant to be worshiped—meant to be cherished and ravaged all at once.

I stretch onto my back, lifting my hips to him impatiently. He teases my soaked entrance with the head of his meaty cock, and his heated gaze finds mine. But he pauses, waiting for permission. I grab his throbbing cock with a nod and rub the tip against me, my wetness teasing his jaw slack before I guide him into me.

As he slides into me, filling and stretching me with a slow burn, I moan.

His eyes flutter closed, his head sagging forward and mouth parting in pure ecstasy. “Fuck…oh, fuck.”

My breath sticks in my lungs as I wait to adjust to his size, and I open my legs wider for him. Slowly, inch by inch, he moves closer, burying his thick cock inside of me until he’s completely filled me.

He leans down and nibbles on the sensitive skin between my ear and neck, his hand resting around my throat as he begins to rock his hips into me. I melt under his touch, a liquid fire flaring inside of me as his heavy, tight breath whispers near my ear. I curl my legs around his waist, inviting him closer.

Gods, I would surrender every part of me to him. Anything to keep us here in this moment. Connected as one.

His rhythm catches fire, thrusting harder into me. My body clenches around his width, plummeting us both into a heap of staggered, heavy breaths. I grapple for him, my eyes rolling to the back of my head as I sink my fingertips into his shoulders. He slams his hips into me hungrily, and the desk creaks underneath us. He freezes and sweeps me up into his arms, carrying me over to his bed.

As soon as we fall into the comfort of his sheets, he’s back to rolling his hips into me. His strokes become deeper, his hand still wrapped around my throat, and his forehead leaned into mine. Both of our gazes are focused on where he plunges into me, his cock glistening with my arousal every time he withdraws. My body writhes in response to each plunge, each achingly, deliberate pump is ecstasy. My legs shake, and I’m begging him to move faster to fill that void. As my mouth falls open to moan, he kisses me, capturing each groan and whimper from me. I thread my fingers into his hair, my racing heart threatening to drown out the smacking sound of our sweaty bodies sliding against each other. A heavy, tight tension coils in my core, roaring to an inferno begging for release. I’m lost in the abyss of him. Lost to his scent, his touch, his sounds—his everything.

“Cole...” I warn.

He locks eyes with me, beads of sweat glistening on his forehead. With a nod of his head, he covers my mouth with his hand to silence my whimpers and kisses my forehead.

I dig my fingers into his back, clinging to him with such an effort that he flinches. My body sings in euphoria as I spiral into an earth shattering high, my skin blazing as I shudder and quake underneath him.

My eyes roll into the back of my head as I cry out, and he keeps that pace and depth until my legs stop shaking, and I’m able to catch my breath. His hand slips off my mouth to cradle the side of my face. He kisses me, claiming my mouth as his. Drilling his hips into me over and over, his breathing becomes more strained, movements more choppy, until he curls himself into me and succumbs to his own pleasure. Sinking his face into the crook of my neck, he bites into the pillow behind me to strangle his groan as he fills me with his release. His body weight pins me down with a heavy comfort as he fights to catch his breath.

We lay there: naked, sweating, and panting as he kisses my neck and jaw.

“Gods, I’ve missed that.” I breathe as my heartbeat slows from a gallop.

He smiles in agreement and showers me in tender kisses around my face until he reaches my mouth, and kisses me—long and slow. Intentionally, and deliberately.

“I love you, Katerina Blackwind,” he vows between my kisses.

He shifts off me and onto his back, pulling me over to lay on his chest. One of his arms wraps around my shoulders, and the other traces light circles on my side. He presses another kiss to my temple.

As our breath slows, we flutter into sleep.

Connected once more, as we were.

As we always will be.

I stir awake, Cole’s warm body cradling me from behind. His thick arms wrap around me, securing my body to his, each rise and fall of his chest echoed in my own breath.

Inching myself out of his grasp in hesitant movements, I slowly drag the sheets off of me.

“No…not yet. Just a bit longer.” Cole’s sleep roughened voice brushes my ear. He pulls me in tighter against him, nuzzling his face into the crook of my neck.

I turn my head toward him and whisper, “I have to go. People might ask questions if they notice your sister is sleeping in your room.”

He grunts, his eyes still closed. “I’m so close to saying fuck it all.”

Still fastened in his grip, I twist toward him, brushing a lock of hair out of his face. “Soon. We’ll leave and go to the Dragon Lands where we don’t have to pretend anymore.”

His eyes flash open at my touch, his pupils dilating in the dim light. Sadness erodes his features into something sullen. “This is all I’ve ever wanted. You. Here. With me. Every moment away from you is torturous. Promise you’ll stay with me. Promise you won’t leave without me.”

A part of my heart crumbles. Perhaps I hadn’t realized the extent of how much our day in the forest all those months ago affected him. How afflicted he was after having gone months thinking I was dead. The way he watched me so intensely, as if I might be gone in the next blink. The pure rage exploding from him the night I was held hostage, when my life was at risk. I could only imagine how dark, traumatizing, and lonely it had been for him. An abyss of sadness and turmoil rages within his pained eyes as he waits for me to respond.

I lean my forehead into his. “I promise.”

He twirls a piece of my hair around his finger a few times before tucking it behind my ear. In that same line of movement, he drags his fingers along my jaw to rest under my chin and tilts my face up to him. It’s so intimately him that I melt. His lips brush mine, softly. As if any harder and I may shatter underneath his touch. I melt into a puddle of smiles and kiss him.

“I love you,” I whisper.

Those three words light a fire within him.

A smile cracks through his torment, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Gods, I am pathetically in love with you. Addicted and consumed. Sometimes I feel like I can’t think straight.” He presses a kiss to the tip of my nose. “There could never be enough of you that I love. Until the sun rises in the south and sets in the north, I will always be yours.”

Our fingers intertwine, and he pulls our hands toward his mouth. He pauses, his gaze fixed on my hand.

His thumb caresses my middle finger. “What…is this? You didn’t have this before.”

Even in the dimness, the dark circle around my finger is stark. The fact that Cole has every inch of my skin memorized has me grinning like a buffoon.

“I’ve had it since I found Daeja,” I answer.

“Weird…” He flicks his gaze back up to me.

Fighting against the urge to stay, now exacerbated by the way he watches me with a lingering sadness that’s hard to miss, I slide out of his bed.

After I leave Cole’s room, I slip into the healer’s quadrant. The little I do know of herbs and medicine is the power of pennyroyal. A green leafy plant with bursts of pale purple flowers. It’s been used for generations as a contraceptive and at heavy dosages, can be lethal.

I pick out a few petals from the stash in the healer’s quadrant and pop them into my mouth before I manage to get back to my room without spotting anyone. I change into a nightgown and shuffle into the cold linens of my bed.

As I lay staring at the ceiling, I can’t keep my mind off Cole. How the slowness and ease of his fingertips against my skin could calm any storm. The way he never shies away from telling me how he feels. How he is the perfect balance of gentle and unyielding. I’ve always been addicted to his presence. Every time I’m near him, I feel such a cosmic pull to him. It’s easy for me to lose control when I’m around him, as if all my common sense goes out the window. He makes me reckless—not in the sense that I’m careless in a world outside of him. But reckless when it comes to my heart for him. I find myself wanting to bow before him and surrender every bit of myself on a silver platter. I’m only lucky that he feels the same.

Gods, I love him.