Aya’s hold on the back of his neck tightened as he slid his hands to the front of her hips, his grip warm as he pressed her against him.
She was used to fighting him, but this … this was an entirely new type of battle. Will ducked his head, his nose grazing her neck as his hand splayed across the bare skin of her abs. She shuddered under his touch, her body burning like the flame that had devoured her in the training room.
She was losing herself entirely, her body melding into his as he ground into her, her fingers sliding through the soft strands of his hair.
‘Gods,’ Will murmured as she moved against him. She could feel every inch of his arousal. And though she told herself she hated him – her body went loose with desire, her core throbbing as he shifted his hips against hers.
His lips skimmed her neck, andgodsdamn her… she tilted her head without a second thought, urging him to take more. Will’s low laugh rumbled against her throat. ‘What do you need, Aya love?’ His breath against her ear made her shudder. Her very blood was on fire, her mind swirling with lust and desire and alcohol. She needed release; she needed to forget.
She turned in his hold, her hips molding into his as she writhed against him, his hardness pressing into her core and sending a spike of pleasure through her. Will groaned, his hand tangling in her hair as he cupped the back of her head. ‘This is going to escalate very quickly if you don’t stop that,’ he said tightly.
‘I don’t care.’ The words were breathless, her movements quickening with the beat of the music. But something in them had Will tensing, his fingers curling on her hip as he gently pushed her back.
‘Wait.’ His breath was uneven, his eyes wide and bright, as if he couldn’t quite figure out how they’d gotten here. His fingers stayed woven in her hair, his thumb pressing against the base of her head. His brow furrowed as he searched her face. ‘What happened today?’
It was ridiculous how easily he could read her, and how furious it made her. Her vision swam as she stared at him, her chest rising and falling with jagged breaths.
Aya jerked out of his hold.
‘You want to know what Natali told me?’ she panted, that old instinct to cut him rearing its head. ‘Apparently, I’m just as dark as you are.’ She barked a laugh, the sound brittle and harsh. ‘Worse, if you can believe it.’
Her eyes dragged over him, taking in the flush of his skin, the evidence that her fingers had been in his hair. ‘Perhaps that’s what explains this,’ she said more to herself.
Because the draw between them … she had never been able to truly ignore it. Even when it sent him falling from the Wall. Even when she’d wanted to kill him for what he did to Tova.
‘Well? Go on,’ Aya urged, swaying as her arms flung wide. ‘Aren’t I the perfect weapon for Kakos? Shouldn’t you whisk me away to the Southern Kingdom now?’
She didn’t believe the accusations even as she spit them.
Because for weeks now, she’d been forced to slowly reckon with a truth that had been steadily growing since she’d attacked him on that ship:
If Will were sympathetic to Kakos, he wouldn’t care. He wouldn’t be vigorously questioning the Council, he wouldn’t be furious about Dominic’s refusal to consider this threat seriously.
He had been right that day in the ship’s state-room: she had let her hatred cloud her judgement. She had been driven by her desperation to avoid her own demons; her own fate.
It had been so much easier to think Will guilty, to focus on his faults rather than face her own.
It’s what she’d been doing for years.
Will’s frown deepened as he took a step back from her, something shifting in his eyes. There was anger there. But beneath that …
Hurt.
Will looked hurt.
He slid his hands into his pockets, his shoulders tense and his voice low as he said, ‘You can be a real bitch, you know that?’
She did.
He disappeared into the crowd, and Aya couldn’t place the emotion that writhed in her gut as she watched him go. It didn’t come to her until she was lying awake in her bed hours later, her mind refusing to rest.
Shame. That’s what she’d felt at his words.
It was shame.
41
Aidon could tell Aya was distracted. She stood before him in the training room, her sword locked against his own. It was another early morning for them both.
