“The buttons”—Skadi arched a hand over her shoulder, pawing at the top of the gown—“there are too many.”
“I see why you use ladies. Forgive us, we are made of more men here, and my mother finds more comfort in trousers.”
Once I aligned behind her, Skadi lifted her piercing blue eyes to mine in the glass. I was glad for the position; she wouldn’t see the tremble to my fingers.
What the hells was wrong with me? I had a fair bit of practice with women’s laces and buttons, now I could not steady my hands.
My knuckles brushed along the heat of her skin at the first three. Her breath was sharp, her skin rose like a cool breeze kissed her spine. A reaction of disgust . . . or something else?
“You have ink designs. I noticed them at the vows.”
All down her spine, tattoos made a coiling pattern of blossoms on vines.
“Yes.” Her voice was soft, a little breathless. “I noticed yours as well.” She looked at me again, less uncertain now, almost a smile on her full lips. “Any meaning behind them?”
“The two crossed blades on my back are made of black steel, symbols of our court. On my chest I keep the Kryv motto and emblems of those I love.”
“What is the motto?”
“Fight to the end.” I struggled with two more buttons, biting back a moan each time my fingers brushed over her skin. “It means to keep battling until victory or the Otherworld, but do not let enemies take you. No matter who or what it is.”
“Hmm.” Skadi smoothed her palms over the green satin of her gown.
Head down, I kept the mirror in the corner of one eye. “You disapprove of us?”
“No.”
Another button, another gasp when I intentionally traced the line of one of her stars. I leaned in, whispering, “Liar.”
For a moment, Skadi’s lashes fluttered. She swallowed and steeled her features. “I don’t disapprove. I’m merely curious how a kingdom thrives if its folk are constantly thieving.”
“Valid question.” I took a step closer. “Most people have quite honest trades and our days are rather dull. Thieving was simply once the only way to survive before House Eriksson was on the throne. Mesmer was hunted and used, forcing them into the underbelly.”
“Magic was hunted?”
“Fiercely, often by other alvers in power. They were tyrants and folk suffered. The only way to live was to fight for survival, which led to less reputable ways to make a living. But the guilds are family. They’re loyal to the end.”
My thumb brushed over the back of her neck. Skadi shuddered. Her steps shifted, and she leaned into me a little more.
I secured the final clasp between her shoulder blades but didn’t pullaway. I rested my brow on the side of her head, slowly allowing my hands to slide over her shoulders, down her arms, falling to her waist.
“And . . .” She drew in a sharp breath when one of my palms slid across her middle. “And what of the king and queen?”
“The most crooked of us all.” Good hells, my voice was thick and rough, like sand lined my throat. My fingers ghosted across her ribs, drawing higher, higher. Blood heated, I looked back to the mirror.
Skadi’s eyes were blown wide. One hand was curled in a fist at her side the other reached back, holding my hip, as though she needed purchase to stand.
“Do we frighten you?” I brushed my lips over the slope of her neck.
“I . . . could ask the same of you.”
I paused over her pulse point, pressing a gentle kiss there, then looked back into the glass. “You terrify me, but I doubt it is in the way you think.”
“Then explain,” she whispered.
I would not survive this woman. Something had rotted out my resolve, something dangerous had overtaken my rational thoughts. She consumed me—actions, thoughts, fears, desire—they now belonged to her, and I did not think she understood how much stunning chaos she was causing in my life.
She was destroying me, moment by moment.
