“Well, if you’re going to leave them on a platter, you certainly can’t blame an enterprising visitor.”
“An enterprisingthief—”
The words die on my tongue as his mouth finds my breast again. I hiss a breath just as his fingers slip between my legs. His arm snakes behind my back, pulling me tight against him. My world centers down to this moment. His lips, his teeth, his fingers, the press of his body. The warmth, the intensity, the yielding in my body when my head falls against his neck, my forehead damp, my breathing quick and full of whimpers until I settle with a sigh.
I wait for him to pull away, to disentangle.
He doesn’t. He holds me as closely as he did when he touched my sword to the side.
He brushes a kiss against my hair. “I’m no thief, lovely.”
I kiss his throat, feeling his pulse, tasting his skin.
“No,” I whisper. “You’re surely not.”
CHAPTER 38
TYCHO
When Jax invited me to stay, my thoughts were wrapped up in prolonging my eventual departure, because as usual, our time together feels too short, and my list of responsibilities seems never-ending. But when I go out to tend to Mercy, the cool night air bites at my skin, chiding me to be on my way. I have duties. If the king knew I stopped here—ifanyoneknew I stopped here—there’d be trouble.
But as I strip Mercy of her gear, I see my bare fingers, the skin a bit more pale where the rings used to sit. There’salreadytrouble.
I think of the look in Grey’s eyes when he was demanding to know why Sinna was in my room.
The way he took his magic back without speaking a word in my defense.
The way he hit the table.Tycho. Talk.
If he doesn’t trust me, what am I risking, really? He didn’t send me to Emberfall out of necessity. He sent me back to Ironrose Castle to get me out of theway. The thought is a tiny spear of bitterness that lodges somewhere near my heart. I tether Mercy and find her a bucket ofwater, with a promise of a large measure of grain for the morning, then go back into the house.
Jax is still curled in the chair with a mug, my cloak hanging askew, his hair a tumble of loose dark waves hanging over his shoulder.
It’s asight, and I almost stumble to a stop.
He offered to let me sleep here, and I’m no fool. I know what itmeans. But my heart is tripping along, and needles of tension find my spine. I don’t know if I want it to mean that. I don’t know if I can handle it meaning that.
I can’t quite believe he started shooting at me. I wish he’d do it again. I know what to do with violence. It’s intimacy that feels frightening.
He surveys me for a long moment, his eyes glinting in the light from the lantern, and I wonder if he can sense every doubt I’m not voicing. A shadow crosses his face, and he stands, setting the mugs aside and reaching for his crutches.
“I can take Da’s bed if you like,” he says softly, easily. “You can have mine.”
I falter. I can’t tell if I’m disappointed—or relieved. “I don’t want to chase you out of your own bed.”
“Well, I have no idea about the state of my father’s bedding,” he says. “But I promise I’m giving you the better option.”
When I fail to move, he studies me, his eyes searching mine.
“Is that what you want?” I finally say.
“No,” he says. “But I’m not taking anything you don’t want to give.”
The words hit me harder than I’m ready for. Not just in a romantic way. Inanyway. No one’s ever said anything like that to me. Not even Grey. It’s not just the words, it’s the heavy truth behind it. I have to close my eyes and take a breath.
“Should I get the bow and shoot at you again?” His voice is low and teasing.
“That would likely be easier.” My eyes flick open, and my chest is tight with emotion. “What doyouwant, Jax?”
