He sealed his words with a kiss before she could protest, his mouth claiming hers with a hunger that sent a jolt of heat straight to her core. Too soon, he pulled back, brushing a soft kiss to her temple and rising from the bed.
The firelight clung to him, tracing the lines of his body in molten gold. Every movement held lethal elegance—the roll of muscle under skin, the flex of shoulders and thighs, the curve of his spine. Her gaze lingered on the ice-blue swirls snaking from his thigh, curling along his side and vanishing at the nape of his neck. He was danger wrapped in beauty, and her pulse spiked with a delicious ache.
A sudden self-consciousness prickled at her, and she tugged the nearest furs higher over her hips. Her body ached, and the faint slickness between her thighs was a quiet reminder of what they’d just shared.
She’d known there might be blood, and Leukos had no doubt noticed. Had he left to clean himself?
She didn’t know what to do—only that once he was asleep, she’d slip to the hearth and clean herself in private. For now, she remained in bed, furs clutched in her fists, heart thudding with restless tension. At least she didn’t have to worry about pregnancy. Damona had given her a potion to that effect as they prepared for the wedding.
Moments later, however, Leukos returned, still stark naked and carrying the basin of warm water and linen cloth she had planned to use. He settled beside her once more, his presence a familiar comfort that wrapped around her.
Alena lifted herself onto her elbows. “What are you doing?”
“This is the part where I take care of my wife,” he said simply, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
He dipped the cloth into the water, wringing it out before touching it to her bare stomach. Warmth spread across her skin, coaxing her to relax.
But when he moved the furs aside, fingers trailing lower, she flinched. “I can do it.”
She reached for the cloth, but he didn’t let go. “I know,” he murmured, “but I want to.”
Her hand fell away, breath caught in her throat.
He wanted to clean her…down there?
She could only watch—transfixed—as he tended to her with reverent care, the cloth sliding down her slick inner thighs. A flush crept up her neck, warming her cheeks. She couldn’t bring herself to meet his eyes, too overwhelmed by the intimacy of it all—and by the fact that he was seeing her like this and not turning away.
His hand moved with quiet purpose, the other anchoring her thigh. His gestures were more intimate and disarming than anything that had come before, and yet she never wanted the moment to end.
“Are you sore?” he asked.
She cleared her throat. “A little.”
The corner of his lips curved in a wicked smirk. He pressed a feather-light kiss to the inside of her knee, fingers gliding up the smooth line of her thigh, each movement claiming her in a way that made her pulse stutter. “Then let me kiss it better.”
Her breath hitched. “What? Leukos?—”
“Lie back down for me, love,” he coaxed, the gentle command sending a thrill straight through her.
“Leukos—” she began, uncertainty warring with desire.
“Trust me.” His dark gaze brimmed with confidence that set her heart racing.
So she did.
And by the Moon, he made her see stars.
CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE
ALENA
“No one’s come for us,” Alena remarked.
Leukos pressed a kiss to her bare shoulder, his lips lingering.
The sun hung high, flooding the roundhouse with molten light. Furs cocooned them in warmth, the world beyond their roundhouse forgotten after a night of baring not only their bodies, but their hearts. They’d grazed on bread and fruit from the low wooden table, talking through the hours about everything and nothing: Tiryns, Phoebe’s training, the hollow ache they’d both endured from being apart, and the visions bleeding through their bond.
Alena had wanted to tell him about Katell, but she held back. Given Nik’s feelings for her sister, it felt wrong to share what she’d learned without him present. And—more selfishly—she couldn’t bring herself to break the spell of their first night together as husband and wife.
