“From who?” I snap. “You? You tried to kill her.”
Vale nods toward the others. “Any of us is capable of giving her the instruction she needs.”
Iyre picks her nails, uninterested. The three Blades speak low amongst themselves, slapping each other on the shoulder, cruel smirks on their faces. I can only imagine what kind of “instruction” those assholes would like to give her.
“I’ll guide her,” I’m quick to answer, as Sabine shimmies out of my arms and starts to tear at my belt. A gust of hot wind suddenly blasts from the east, blowing my shirt a few feet away. “This path? It’s mine to take her down, not yours.”
Artain lets out a rip of laughter. “You might amuse her for the time being, human, but if you’re speaking of fate, then you should know that she’s mine. She’s alwaysbeenmine.”
“Maybe that was true once,” Vale answers Artain, “but you fucked up this time, didn’t you?” Vale grabs the prissy god by his vest’s leather ties and sends him toward the exit with a hard shove. “The rest of you, too. Leave them. Let Lord Basten realize for himself that he isn’t up to the task.”
Iyre gives me a smirking wave with red-tipped fingers as she saunters away.
Once I hear their footsteps return to Drahallen Hall, every ounce of my attention whips back to Sabine.
We’re truly alone now.
On her knees, she jerks my belt free, the leather snapping clean as a bone break.
Overhead, a shower of acorns suddenly rains down everywhere but directly on us, like the trees can’t control themselves.
“Easy,” I coax her, but she doesn’t seem to hear. Her lips are all over my bare navel, teeth sliding over the hard cut of muscle at my waist. “Sabine. Eyes on me.”
I capture her small, pointed jaw in one palm and force her head up. But her eyes dart between the scattered offerings, my bare chest, and the falling acorns.
I chit to get her attention. “Onlyon me.”
The command manages to cut through her haze. She lifts pleading eyes to me that waver with confusion.
“I need—” Her voice shakes too much to finish. The hot wind shifts direction, this time turning so icy cold it might as well come from the frosted North. “I need…”
My voice softens. “I know, little violet.”
I lightly grip her wrists, tugging her to her feet, and press my lips to hers before she can utter another word.
Look—sex with Sabine is always transcendent. But this moment? It isn’t about my pleasure. I don’t even think it’s about hers.
It’s about steadiness.
She doesn’t need a lover—she needs grounding.
“Sabine.” I call her name as clear as a ringing bell, cupping her chin so our gazes connect. Echoing her trembles, the stones rumble underfoot. I can feel even deeper tremors far below, ready to burst forth if I don’t find a way to tether her to reality.
I claim her lips again.
She opens her mouth willingly to me, so eager that her incisors clatter against my bottom teeth.
When she realizes she nearly bit me, she jerks as if to pull away, but I press a firm hand around the small of her back, rooting our bodies together.
Her shaking hands twist in my open shirt, barely holding on. Thunder cracks overhead, followed by a rash of icy frozen rainpelting us. A crack opens in the amphitheater floor in front of her statue, snaking its way between our feet, shifting the earth.
By the gods, I think, pulling back for a breath.She could tear open the world.
“Basten, don’t stop!” She clings to my bare shoulders, fingernails digging into my skin, sending pain rocketing down my back muscles
A vine tears out of the ground with enough force—moving like a snake,possessed—to slam into my chest, knocking the breath out of me.
I stumble back, letting go of Sabine. Before I can recover my balance, the vine wraps around my ankle and yanks my foot out from under me.
