“This is beautiful.” I trace the shape of the creature, following its head, along to the body, through the wings. “It’s life.”
He turns around, his brow furrowed with a silent question.
“Your dragon. Dragons represent life. At least they used to, before they were gone,” I say. “And ravens are death. They’re opposites. Like our moons. What does that mean?”
He takes my hands in his. “I’m not sure, but right now, I’m glad Caiden has never seen my mark.”
“How is that possible?” I ask.
“Marks are supposed to be private. We avoid looking and keep them covered,” he says. “If he knew mine was the opposite of yours…”
“I don’t want him to see mine,” I say. “I don’t want him to see anything.”
“I know, Sabina.”
“Brevan?” I want to tell him. I want to tell him everything. I want to hear my name on his lips. Myrealname. I want him to know how I feel. I want to know everything about him and experience everything with him.
“Yes?” He looks at me expectantly.
Anya.
If I break, Anya is dead. We’re both dead.
“When will Caiden and the emperor return?” I ask instead.
“Probably tomorrow.” He releases my hands.
“I should get some rest, then.” I pick up the robe from where I abandoned it on the floor earlier and pull it over my shoulders.
“I’ll be outside. If you need anything, call for me.” He tucks a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “Get some rest, Princess.”
I walk him to the door, then lean against it as soon as it’s shut. What am I doing? I’m in so deep at this point I can hardly remember who I am anymore. Everything is wrong. I want to forget for a little while. Without the worry of the rebellion or my dead family, or that I was supposed to kill the emperor and then not to kill him. And that somehow, I have a god’s gift mark and magic of some kind that I have yet to figure out.
I am so fucking tired of all of it. Of feeling angry and confused and sad and all the things all the time. I need a few minutes where I can stop thinking and just exist. Without all the life-and-death pressure.
The only good thing in this place is standing behind that door, and I can’t even touch him.
A knock startles me, and I step back, then open the door. Brevan fills the doorway. “I know I should walk away.”
I grab his tunic and pull him into my room.
Forty-Two
He kicksthe door behind him, and our lips are on each other the second it closes. I’m grateful he’s not wearing the armor tonight as I claw at his tunic, desperate to get it off him. He breaks our kiss long enough to pull his tunic over his head and discard it, then he pushes my robe off my shoulders.
We’re kissing and moving toward where I think the bed is, but as I struggle with his trousers, my ass bumps into the small table where the remains of my meal are still set out.
I’m panting when I break the kiss. In the dim light I can see the possessive look in his eyes. It should terrify, but it only makes me want him more. Heat simmers low in my belly, and all I want is this man between my thighs.
He reaches around me, then knocks all the plates to the ground. They crash and shatter, but I don’t see them fall because he lifts me onto the table and our lips collide again. This time with more urgency.
It’s dangerous and reckless, but I can’t resist him anymore. “Don’t stop,” I breathe, suddenly worried he’ll hold himself back.
“I couldn’t if I tried,” he says against my lips.
His rough hands slide up my inner thigh, and my skin hums in response. I need more of him.
My tongue finds his, our kiss like a dance, a battle where we both fight for dominance. Sometimes I let him best me only to regain control. It’s like nothing I’ve ever experienced. Just his kiss sends so much heat through me that wetness grows between my thighs. I reach for his trousers, and he breaks the kiss to help kick them aside.
