When dinner was done, Naila led her to the baths deep within the cave. She would tend Evie’s burns again withhelmossa, she said. I went instead to the lake. I plunged into its dark, cold water, hoping to drown the rage before it drowned me.
I wondered if Naila had noticed the lightning scar on Evie’s skin. I wondered if that was why she looked at me, her eyes shadowed with something close to concern.
The chamber they’d prepared for us lay in a secluded alcove near the baths, the air still and faintly perfumed by moss and steam. Slabs of wood lined the ground, covered in pelts and pillows to form a bed.A heap of furs lay on a rug beside it, and that was where I would sleep. Evie could take the bed.
She entered through a curtain of linen, her hair loose, wearing a pale shift borrowed from Naila. Candlelight gathered around her, painting her skin in shades of honeyed moonlight. She smelled faintly of roses and lilacs. The sight of her stole the breath from me.
The wound upon her forehead had closed, the burn at her neck faded thanks to my sister’s care. All that remained was my mark, pale roots peeking above the fabric.
She looked as if she wished to ask if I was alright, yet didn’t dare. I gave her a curt nod. Concern softened into confusion when she saw the bed. She turned toward me, a faint furrow between her brows.
“You take the bed,” I said, pointing toward the rug. “I’ll sleep on the floor.”
The pain in my chest, the one that had flared since I’d seen Vallûne’s ruin, begged for stillness. For peace. I rolled my shoulders and cracked my neck, the ache of restraint heavy in my bones, and stripped off my shirt, the fabric whispering over my skin.
Evie was looking at me. I felt her gaze like a touch.
“Why don’t you come to bed with me?” she asked in a small voice.
I froze. Looked over my shoulder. She had slipped beneath the pelts and sat against the wall of stone, leaving room beside her.
My cock throbbed in my breeches, hardening at the idea of crawling in bed next to her.
She had no idea how much I wanted this.
But I had to cage the wolf. Because if I touched her, I could not be sure she’d survive it this time.
In the woods, I’d been consumed with the thought of showing her just how deeply she unmade me, her scent, her voice, her very presence pulling me apart. But now, beneath that thin shift, I saw the edge of her scar again, a reminder of what I’d done. She had repelled my storm once, but could she again? She didn’t even know how she had done it. I didn’t want to learn that she couldn’t.
It was too dangerous. I was too dangerous.
“Are you all right?” Her soft, crystalline voice reached me. “If you want to talk about it, I’m here.”
I said nothing. I had no wish to spill my thoughts before Evangelina Corvo. Not tonight. Not until our blight problem was resolved.
“Is something wrong?” she asked quietly.
I knew I couldn’t leave her in silence. I drew a long breath and turned toward the bed.
She has no idea how right she is.
Her eyes followed me as I sat beside her, her lips parting as though the air between us had thinned. Her face flushed, and her chest heaved, nipples hardening through the thin fabric, betraying the rising desire she felt for me.
And seeing her like that, I couldn’t stop myself from reaching out to her. My hand brushed her cheek in a slow caress, my thumb tracing her lower lip.
She stared at me, that small light of fear flickering in her gaze. Was she afraid of what I might do next?
That spark—fear or something near it—stirred the old instinct within me. The pain in my chest finally eased, replaced by something just as dangerous.
My thumb slipped into her mouth, and she closed her lips around it, suckling gently. My breath came quicker, lightning threading through my thoughts. Her teeth grazed underneath my thumb as I took it out of her mouth and control slipped. I seized her jaw, firm and sudden.
“Every time I’m near you, it takes all my strength not to touch you,” I said, my voice roughened by restraint.
I still held her when she shifted on the bed and came to her knees. She moved closer, hesitant, almost shy, and I let her go.
“Why wouldn’t you want to touch me?” she breathed. Her hand lifted to my jaw, her eyes searching mine before she kissed me.
I didn’t return it at first. I knew that if I did, there would be no turning back. Her lips were soft and uncertain against mine.
