Valentine fought the urge to touch the braid draped over her shoulder, to wrap it around his hand and tug hard enough to force her to bare her throat to him. His mouth watered, and his dick hardened just thinking about making her submit.
"I'm seeing you now, aren't I? You haven't exactly revealed who you are to me until now. You are just as manipulative as I am with your sweetness and light bullshit," he sneered.
She asked, "You want to know the truth?"
"If you're capable of it."
Yelena leaned in until her breath burned against his lips. "You can't even handle facing what is inside yourself. There's no way you will ever be able to handle what's inside me, Valentine Greatdrakes."
Silvery power hit him like a punch, and Valentine flew backward, through the now open door, and hit the brick wall out in the hall. Her eyes were burning white with magic as she made a backward wave with her hand, and the door slammed shut and bolted.
Valentine rested his head against the cold stone and laughed softly in the darkness. His dragon was puffed up and eager to make the female submit. Valentine's body hummed with a lust that he thought himself incapable of feeling. And didn't that make her even more intriguing? He knew a challenge when onewas thrown down in front of him, and he had seen the gleam of desire in her eyes.
Valentine rested his hand on the dragon painted on the door. "Challenge accepted, baby girl."
15
Yelena spent the following two days angry. Her magic wasn't working properly with the loss of her hand, no matter how much she practiced. She was furious at the way Valentine had provoked her, but most of all the way she had reacted to him.
Since Taranis had brought her to the mountain city, she had done everything she could to be calm and in control. Being around Valentine made her feel like she was losing that fight.
Something had shifted between them since he had rescued her. Having him in her chambers had made the air feel volatile, like one stray spark would set everything on fire. She could still smell his scent, taste his blood in her mouth. She didn't know if she wanted to kiss him or tear him apart or both.
Yelena had thought it best to stay away from everyone until she could learn to stabilize her power again. Taranis had warded this part of the palace to ensure whatever magic she did wouldn't leak out into the rest of the city. She had placed her own protections over them, and none of it had stopped Valentine. He shouldn't have made it to her stairs. The wards had just let him pass without a fight. It worried her that the magic recognized him.
Mate, her dragon growled.
"He's not our mate. We don't have mates," Yelena snapped at it. The dragon sent a wave of yearning and images of the way he had looked at her, so angry, but his eyes burning with desire. The dragon wanted to climb inside his skin and live there. It wanted to fly into the high mountains and fuck him with nothing but stars and snow around them.
"You're imagining things," she muttered under her breath.
Yelena wasn't a virgin. She had taken lovers over the years, fae who lived outside of the city and who had no idea who or what she really was.
Somehow, it had always been unsatisfying.
Imogen had taught her the term 'ace', but Yelena didn't think that was right to explain her either. There was no term to explain the way magic gave her a deeper rush of pleasure than sex ever had, so she had given up on the idea of lovers long ago.
It was one of the many reasons why she found her reaction to Valentine Greatdrakes so confusing. She had never felt that kind of desire before and didn't know if that was the reason she was so unbalanced in more ways than her magic.
Yelena had pushed that desire from her mind and torn through her books, trying to find anything that would help her balance her magic. There was nothing useful.
The magic was there, but casting even the smallest of spells went haywire. She had thrown Valentine out of her room. She had been angry, and she hadn't given it a thought. Trying to do anything intentional wasn't working.
She wanted to tie Valentine up and make him help her. She never should have let him leave. She should have made him stay and talk it out until they were calm and could be friends again. Just having him to bounce ideas off would help her think, but she didn't know if he would talk to her at all after their stupid fight.
Yelena lay back on her couch and rubbed at the aching in her arm. The skin had healed over the stump of her wrist thanks to the healer's magic and elixirs, but it still jolted her when she looked at it. She would forget it was missing and try to pick something up, only to be hit with its loss all over again. She had heard of phantom limbs, but experiencing it for herself was eerie and devastating at the same time.
It could be worse. You haven’t lost your magic altogether. You just need to adjust.
Valentine could help—sheknewit—and hated that too.
Yelena missed the Valentine from their letters. It had always been so much easier when they were writing to each other. Why was talking face-to-face so much harder than it had to be?
Yelena sat up again and tore a piece of paper out of her journal. She didn't trust the fire messaging to work, so sending a note with a servant would have to do.
She had always been ambidextrous, but her handwriting was shakier with her left hand. She tapped her pen against her chin, wondering where to start. She wasn't going to apologize for what she had said or for throwing him out of her rooms. It had been that or kiss him, and she didn't know if he would welcome that, whatever her dragon thought.
Yelena gave up trying to think of something clever and witty and chose honesty.
