Chapter 7

Liria gasped against my lips. Then she melted, relaxing under my hands and kissing me back. Stroking her tongue against mine as she sighed into my mouth. Fabric rustled, and she pressed her hips into my groin. She tipped her head back and opened under me, letting me in. Letting me deepen the kiss even as she curled a hand around the back of my neck and pulled me more tightly against her.

She was bolder than she'd been in the maze. This time, she knew what she was doing.

Because I'd taught her how to do this.

A groan—equal parts shame and lust—wound its way from my chest to my throat. For the past two nights, I'd sat in the master chamber in Tur Dorna and tried to pinpoint when I'd abandoned my principles. Because it happened long before the maze. Haluven knew. I could have descended the steps to the Crypt and asked him when I first let lust supplant my honor.

But even if I thought he'd rouse and tell me, I didn't really want to know. I was afraid to face the answer, even if I could no longer outrun the desire I felt for the woman I'd raised.

"Fuck," I rasped, licking into her mouth. Tasting her. Gods, how had I ever resisted her? I gave in now, trailing my lips down her neck. I sucked the skin over her pulse before continuing my descent, pausing to kiss her collarbone and the hollow of her throat.

Her head went back like a flower on a stem, and her body trembled against my lips. When I thumbed a stiff nipple through her gown, she brought her head up with a gasp.

"Again," she demanded, thrusting her chest against my hand.

I tugged her neckline down as I sucked at the top of one swollen, shivering breast. Her nipple, pink and pebbled, beckoned at the edge of her lacy chemise. The dormant glyphs of her tattoos traced over her skin. I nipped at the mound of her breast, closing my teeth over the outline of a delicate white fawn.

"Ronan," she said, her breaths ragged. Her breasts rose and fell swiftly as she tugged at my hair, directing me where she wanted me to go.

I tugged free from her grip. With her soft protest ringing in my ears, I bit at her stiff nipple through her gown. When her protest slid into a moan, I fastened my lips around the peak and suckled it through the fabric.

Wood creaked, and I realized I'd backed her to the table. The legs scraped against the stone as I sucked harder, flicking my tongue around the eager little bud struggling to burst through the silk.

She moaned again, the sound puncturing the haze of desire. When she slid her free hand between us, I captured her wrist before she reached my straining cock.

"No," I said against her bodice.

"Why not?" She tried to twist from my grip. At the same time, she thrust her chest harder against my mouth. "Isn't this what you came back for?"

The daring, slightly taunting note in her voice shouldn't have surprised me. Even as a child, Liria had never been shy. Always, she charged forward, grabbing at things she wanted with both hands. Undoubtedly, some of it sprang from being born into a lofty position. But most of it was just her. Even when she'd broken rules as a child, she'd demanded to know why the rules existed in the first place. And she was never content with answers like "because." She pushed me for more. She didn't let up until she was satisfied.

"Damn you," I muttered, sliding my lips to her throat and licking the wild beat of her pulse.

She fought my grip, her breath hitching. My desire flared hotter as I squeezed her wrist. She moaned again, and an extra layer of forbidden passion bloomed between us. Testing its limits, I forced her arm behind her back, my fingers like a manacle around her wrist.

She shuddered, and her voice went husky. "Ronan… Gods, yes."

Fuck. Of course, she would be this way. Of course. How could I have expected anything less?

I took her lips again, slanting my mouth over hers and plunging my tongue deep. She met me thrust for thrust, her tongue dueling with mine and her breathy moans spilling around us. As I nipped at her full bottom lip, her fingers in my hair tightened. Pain flared across my skull as she jerked my head back, forcing me to meet her glittering green gaze.

"You didn't answer my question," she said, panting.

My cock throbbed, most of the blood in my body between my legs. Liria stared up at me with lips wet and swollen from our kiss. Her neck was pink from my mouth. A wide, damp circle marred the front of her gown where I'd sucked her. Debauched her.

"Let go," I said, tugging my head from her fingers as I released her wrist. She complied, and she leaned against the table as I stepped back and smoothed my hair. Or tried to. It was a mess from the road. I should have braided it before I left Tur Dorna, but I'd been in a rush.

Once I'd decided on a course of action, I'd been desperate to return to the castle as quickly as possible.

Liria braced the heels of her hands on the edge of the table. The desire in her eyes faded, and the hard edge of anger took its place. She hadn't forgotten about the maze. Not that I'd expected her to.

"Yes," I said, answering her at last. I'd assured the library was empty, but I kept my voice down anyway. "I came back for this. For you. I went to Tur Dorna to think."

"Really?" she asked, the anger creeping into her voice. "It felt more like you were running away."

"I deserve that accusation." I gripped my sword hilt and drew an even breath. "I've run from my feelings for a long time. I gave my word I would guide you and teach you. Prepare you to become queen. I've always been proud of you. I was never supposed to fall in love with you."

Her eyes widened. Her voice went grave. "You…" She swallowed hard. "You love me?"

I tightened my grip on Summerbane so I wouldn't reach for her. Because the glimmer of doubt in her eyes was like a fist squeezing my heart. "Yes. I love you, Princess. I've loved you for a very long time. I tried not to. I told myself I wouldn't be forsworn, that it was wrong to want you. I thought being apart from you would help, but…" I shook my head, recalling the sleepless nights at the estate where my father's ghost lurked around every corner, reminding me that I didn't deserve his name or legacy.

Liria straightened. She hid her hands in the folds of her gown—an old habit I wasn't sure she was aware of. "But what?" she prompted.

"It didn't help," I said bluntly. "Because every time I tried to think, I ended up thinking about you."

Wonder spread over her face. She stepped toward me in a rustle of silk, bringing the sharp bite of snow and the heady, disconcerting scents of lavender and evergreen. She was Winter's princess, but she'd always carried notes of Spring.

Slowly, she placed her hand on my chest, her slim fingers splayed over my heart. Glyphs and fawns peeked from the silk around her wrist. "I love you, too, Ronan. For a very long time."

I curled my fingers around hers. "We could marry. Is that what you want?"

"Yes," she said, joy bright in her eyes. As quickly as it appeared, it fled, and she furrowed her brow. "But the lords of the Council?—"

"Can't know." I squeezed her hand and lowered my voice. "We'll have to marry in private and keep it to ourselves until your father dies. If we tell the Council our intentions, they'll do whatever they can to stop us. I'm legitimized, but it doesn't matter. They'll always see me as a bastard, and they'll never allow a bastard to be king."

Her frown deepened. She pulled back, her hand sliding from my chest. "But…you wouldn't be king. You would be my consort."

My heart thumped harder. Tapping magic I'd honed over the years, I slowed it. I'd prepared for Liria's reaction. For two nights, I'd tried to convince myself it was better to continue as usual, presenting her with suitors and letting her marry someone who could wield the scepter while she served as queen.

But now I knew she'd be queen in name only. Eventually, others would notice. Her husband would notice. The nobles might revolt, as Haluven had warned. And that was the best-case scenario. If Winter found Liria unworthy, it could punish her for trying to wield power she couldn't control. Could I risk that?

I couldn't. I wouldn't.

But I could risk myself. I'd do that for her. And if I was totally honest, I'd do it for me. If Winter accepted me, no one would ever doubt I was worthy of my father's name. Did that explain why I'd been able to wield the scepter as well as I had for ten years? The thought had occurred to me more than once over the past two days. Perhaps, my gifts were a sign. Confirmation that I was meant to fulfill the role that had fallen into my lap.

You'll have everything you want, Haluven's voice rasped in my memory. He'd dared me to reach beyond my grasp. Taunted me for the circumstances of my birth. Shamed me for wanting his daughter.

Fine. I owned the shame. But the shame didn't erase the want. In some dark, twisted way I didn't want to examine too closely, it enhanced it.

"Ronan?" Liria whispered, pulling me from my forbidden, whirlwind thoughts. She'd gone pale, all traces of passion absent from her face.

Tension arced between us. There was no way to blunt it. No way to make the truth more palatable.

But you're not going to tell her the truth,a little voice reminded me. I shoved it away.

"I can't be a consort," I said, speaking the words I'd rehearsed a hundred times on the ride from Tur Dorna to the castle. "Don't ask it of me, Liria."

"Why not?"

"Keep your voice down."

She stepped back, shock evident on her face. "Where is this coming from? You just told me you love me. Do you think that entitles you to my father's crown? I'm heir to the throne."

In my head, Haluven's smile mocked me all over again. This was everything I'd feared.

I tried for a softer version of the truth. "Your magic is weak, and it hasn't progressed in years. We have to face the reality that it might never be strong enough to maintain the frost."

Horror dawned in her eyes. "This is why you came back. You don't love me, Ronan. You just want the crown."

"That is not true?—"

"Then serve as my consort." A tear rolled down her cheek. She dashed it away with a jerky movement and then clenched her fist at her side. "If you love me, the crown shouldn't matter."

Frustration rose hot and swift. "You can't pretend the crown doesn't exist. Someone has to keep the cold. Someone has to wield the scepter. Do you know what happens to weak rulers, Liria?" I gestured to the books around us. "The warnings are written in our histories. Sometimes, the land defends itself. Winter could reject your claim to the throne. If you marry me, you'll still be queen. Don't risk your life because of your pride."

She jerked as if I'd struck her. For a moment, we stared at each other, silence heavy between us. When she spoke at last, her voice was thick with tears. "My pride?"

Anger flared under my skin. "Is this where you accuse me of having too much of it? Because that's laughable." I flashed a humorless smile. "I was born ap-Sylvar. In the Old Language, ap means property of."

"I know what it means," she said tightly.

"Then don't presume to tell me I'm overflowing with vanity. I've done everything I was supposed to do?—"

"So have I!" She backed up, skirting the edge of the table with tears shimmering in her eyes. "And now I know it was all for nothing. Because you don't believe in me."

I stepped toward her as everything unraveled, threatening to slip through my fingers exactly as I'd worried it would. "I didn't say that."

"Yes, you did." Another tear slipped down her cheek. "You've made it clear you don't think I can rule. But the worst part is you don't want me to."

"Liria—"

"I would have respected you more if you just came out and admitted you want my father's throne. But you made me think you wanted me." She drew a shuddering breath, her expression going hard. "You're as power-hungry as the Council warned. But I didn't think you were cruel."

Before I could respond, she turned and fled.