All at once, his hands were everywhere. Pulling her hair, caressing the curve of her waist, slipping behind the crook of her knee to hold her even closer.
“It’s not enough,” he whispered between heated kisses. “Qovvingbond.”
Bond?
All thought fled when his rough tongue slipped into her mouth and curled around her own smooth one. Without her permission, her arms twined around his strong neck, and her legs wrapped around his hips.
Neveconsumedher. Like he’d been starved for Dahlia.
He completely surrounded her, his heat seeping into her skin, warming all the frigid parts of her. Dahlia arched against him when his right palm slipped up the inside of her thigh. It was everything and not enough.
He was pleasure and pain.
The poison and the cure.
Her enemy and lover.
Vaguely, she registered Neve swiping everything off the table with one hand before hauling her impossibly closer until her breasts were mashed to his bare chest.
He nipped at her bottom lip, one of his fangs catching with a dull sting as he moved from her mouth, trailing warm plush kisses across her cheek and down her jaw. She shuddered when his black tongue drew a path down her neck, and he bit the skin of her right shoulder, not breaking skin.
Lia’s eyes popped open, and she stared sightlessly over his shoulder into the dark, the traumatic memory clinging to her mind.
Pale skin. Sharp teeth. Adimedon.
Chills erupted along her skin.
“No,” she whispered. His weight went from feeling perfect to oppressive. He was too big. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t go down this path. It would only lead to more pain. This was too real. Dahlia couldn’t allow this to happen.
The Frost King paused, his lips hovering above her collarbone. Tremors worked through his body, and she felt his hands sparsm, one precariously high underneath her skirt, the other cupped just beneath her bust. The rising fear crested, and she placed a hand on his chest and shoved. His hands disappeared from her person. He slowly placed them on the table beside her hips and lifted his head.
Utter devastation and disappointment were painted across his handsome face.
“Qov,” he growled, accusing glare pinned to her face.
His shiny blue-black hair was disheveled and hung in his sharp cheekbones. His lips were swollen and glistening, but allshe could see was the monster in the mountains with her blood dripping down his face. She panted, caught in the nightmare.
Her bite throbbed. She leaned farther away from his anger, from his teeth, ones that could do so much damage. Nothing was safe. Her anxiety grew worse as he reached for her again.
Neve paused, gauging her reaction. “Dahlia, I am not going to hurt you.” An embarrassing whimper slipped out as he touched the backs of her bare calves. “You need to letmego.”
Lia blinked slowly at him and then her legs.Shewas holding ontohim?Not the other way around?
As if he was on fire, Dahlia unlaced her legs, and Neve backed away with a fleeting touch to her knee. She scrambled off the table and darted around the large piece of furniture. The hair at the nape of her neck rose when Neve hissed.
The sound had her freezing in her tracks before she began backing away from him toward the entrance. Escape was so close.
“Araevve.” He held a trembling hand out toward her. His jaw flexed. “Just stop. Do not run from me. It makes it worse.” A ragged gasp. “Seittae.”
Please.He was actually begging her not to flee.
The plea held Lia in its unrelenting grip. He dropped into a crouch and ran his hands over his face and through his hair, his attention never straying from her. It was as if he was trying to make himself smaller just to make her more comfortable. The memory of the monster faded away.
Gratitude followed quickly by confusion crashed over Lia. Why was he being kind? What was the angle? This was all too confusing.
She glanced at all the cups and crystals scattered on the floor. A leather map lay crumpled near his left foot. Broken candles littered the rug. This was clearly his own tent. Why had he brought her into his personal space? To torment her?
Lia touched her puffy lips, completely untethered. What had that kiss been about? It tasted like need, rage, and desperation.
