I would not feed an ego that had already been inflated by countless others. Instead, I used the skills of the graceful Aetherian dancers who enticed and seduced with their slow movements. Teasing, never giving. Starting with the jeweled pin that held my hair in place, I reached behind my head, and with one long pull, my hair tumbled down around me. Cleaned, still damp in places, curling in others, it was wild and untamed… perfect for this particular occasion.
He pretended to be unaffected, but Terran was anything but.
He was a competitor, though, and knew the game well. Somehow flexing every muscle in his chest and arms as he reached for his boot, Terran untied one and then the other. I watched, heart racing with every movement, as he stood before me in naught but the tight breeches that Gyorian warriors were known for. And, of course, the thick, muscled legs beneath them.
Summoning every bit of feigned indifference, I ever-so-slowly untied the sash at my waist that held my pale-blue tunic in place. Terran’s gaze slipped down to my waist as the silken belt was undone. When he took two steps toward me then, closing the space between us, I held my breath, expecting the one thing I’d wanted from him for some time.
Despite that I should hate him.
Despite his treatment of my people.
Despite my mission here, one that was so much more important than this silly game.
But he didn’t lean into me. Attempt to kiss me. Instead, his hand shot out, Terran grabbing the silk sash before I could stop him. He didn’t say a word. Instead, he reached for my wrist and, stepping forward, pulled it behind my back.
My fingers immediately itched to wield air to stop him. But remembering what he’d said earlier about not using it in this chamber, I resisted. Even as his finger wrapped around my other wrist and brought it back to join the other, I didn’t stop him.
Terran continued to hold my gaze, imploring… daring.
Stop him, Lyra.
I had every reason to resist as the silk began to thread around my wrists, but instead, I looked up at him, fascinated.
The prince of Gyoria was tying my hands behind my back, and I was letting him.
Standing so close that our bodies were nearly touching, a thrill of anticipation coursed through me as if I hadn’t just summarily lost this game. As if I weren’t on a mission to secure the artifact that could reopen a portal to the human realm.
As if nothing else in Elydor mattered but this moment.
He tightened the sash, and though I could release it—my finger was easily able to summon air currents—I didn’t.
“Aye,” I said suddenly, remembering.
His eyes narrowed quizzically.
“You asked if I liked what I saw.”
Terran reached up to trace the outline of my cheek, his finger surprisingly gentle as it trailed down to my jaw, where he stopped. His thumb touched my lower lip, tugging on it. Parting my lips.
“As do I.” For a change, his tone wasn’t taunting, as if Terran meant the words. “Do you know what I believe, Lyra?” he asked, his voice low and reverberating.
I didn’t respond—at least, not with words.
“I believe you are accustomed to being in control. Of yourself. Of those around you. And that perhaps, just once, you secretly wish to relinquish that control to another. I think, if I were to have you this way in my bed, you’d not only allow it…” He dropped his hand.
I wouldnotmourn its loss.
Terran leaned down to whisper into my ear. “You would enjoy it. Perhaps more than you’ve enjoyed anything in your life.”
My core clenched at his words, at his soft breath as Terran spoke to me.
I would die before confirming anything he’d said, not only out of pride but of ignorance. I’d never played the game quite like this. Taken lovers? Aye. But allowed them to do what Terran suggested? Control me? Nay.
Because he was right. I was in control. Always. It could mean the difference between life and death. And even immortals understood that line was thin.
“Turn around.”
Every bit of me rebelled at his words. At Terran’s commanding tone. I wasn’t his to command, and yet, stupidly, I trusted him not to hurt me.
