I bounce once, catch myself on my elbows. "Very romantic."
"I'm not interested in romantic." He's already shrugging out of his coat, tossing it toward a chair without looking. The blood is dark now, almost black. His shirt underneath is clean—he planned for this, of course he planned for this—and he's pulling it over his head before I can respond.
Bare chest.
Scars silver in the low light. "I'm interested in getting you naked."
My mouth goes dry.
"We should talk about—"
"Later."
"The plan—"
"Later." He's on me before I can argue, his weight pressing me into the mattress, his mouth finding mine, and I stop caring about plans.
The kiss is hard and demanding and I open for him because I'm too tired to play games, too raw to pretend I don't want this. His fingers tangle in my hair and I make a sound—embarrassing, desperate—and he swallows it whole.
He pulls back just enough to work on the laces of my bodice.
"Tonight." His voice is flat even as his hands keep moving. "The plan."
Right. The plan. My father dies tonight. I get Seris. Simple.
"We move after full dark." My voice comes out breathless. "House Solyne won't be expecting it. He thinks he has time to rally support, consolidate power. He'll be wrong."
"He'll be dead."
"That too."
Koshin's smile shows too many teeth. He's still wound up from the kill—I can see it in the tension in his shoulders, the energy coiled tight and waiting. He yanks my bodice open and cold air hits my skin.
The bruises on Seris's face flash through my head. Purple and green against pale skin. New bruises. Fresh. Because I wasn't there to take the hits anymore.
My hands curl into fists against his chest.
"I should have—" The words stick. I try again. "When I left. I should have taken her with me."
"You couldn't."
"I know."
"He would have—"
"I know." Too sharp. I don't apologize. "Doesn't stop me from wanting to go back and do it differently."
Koshin is quiet for a moment. Then he pulls back—not away, just enough to reach the bedside table. He opens a drawer and pulls something out. A box. Dark wood, unadorned.
"I had this made."
He sets it on the bed beside me, close enough to touch.
"What is it?"
"Open it."
Koshin is watching me with that tilted-head intensity and my hands are already reaching for the lid, lifting it before I can talk myself out of it.
