Asher finally looks at me. “I’m not a part of this.”
“Youarea part of this,” says the king. “You’ve been a part of this since the moment you forced me out of the palace in Perriden.”
That draws Asher up short, but only for a second. He glares between the two of us, but his gaze stops on me. “No. I’m not.” His eyes light with a spark of challenge, but maybe a little belligerence, too. “He’s your future husband, Jor. It’s clear you want each other.”
I glare at him, but heat is already climbing up my throat. The worst part is that he’s not wrong about either half of that statement. “Asher.” I swallow. “I don’t—I want—”
But I can’t finish either statement.
I don’t want him to go.
I might want the king...but I want Asher, too.
“Please,” I say softly. “Stay.”
Asher glances away, his gaze locking down. “I shouldn’t be here. Just lock me in a carriage and send me back—”
“Bleeding skies,” Ky snaps. “The two of you are worse than Cal and Garrett.” He sighs heavily. “I’m going to knock you both into the pool.”
“Oh, shut up,” says Asher. “You are not—”
Ky grabs the edge of the stone bench and flips it back. I shriek before I realize it’s even happening, and then I’m soaking wet and sputtering.
The water isn’t deep at all, and once I sit upright, it’s level with my chest. Thanks to the fire in the room, it’s delightfully warm—but I simply cannot believe he did that.
The king is looking between us, firelight flickering across his features. “Asher.” He crosses his arms, and his voice goes low, full of honey. “I’m not sending you away.”
As always, Asher goes still when the king says his name. He just said it’s clear that the king and I want each other—and he’s not wrong. I felt the king’s hard weight thrusting against me last night. Just the memory of it sends a pulse of heat right between my legs.
But it’s clear that they want each other, too.
I think of everything I’ve learned about Asher, and everything he said about our alliance. I think of everything he’s gone through, the way his body reacts when I touch him. I think of how he reacts when thekingtouches him.
Maybe he doesn’t need me to negotiate for sanctuary—and instead he needs me to negotiatethis.
I look at him in the warm water of the pool. The firelight glistens off his blond hair, droplets of water clinging to his jaw, just below the lines of ink on his cheek. His eyes are still on the king, belligerent and wary.
“Asher,” I say softly. “Kiss me.”
For an instant, he freezes—but then his gaze meets mine, and he obeys. When Asher takes hold of my waist, it draws a small sound from my throat, but then he sucks my lower lip right between his teeth. It’s sudden and aggressive and gentle all at the same time, and I’m gaspinginto his mouth. All the heat he stoked in my chambers blooms between my legs. I could drown in the taste of him.
But then my hands fall on his arms, clinging to him. I feel the change, thehesitation, and I draw back.
“Stop?” I whisper.
He’s breathing hard, but after a moment, he shakes his head.
“Do you still fancy the king?” I say, my voice just as soft.
He holds so still, his eyes boring into mine. But then he nods.
I lean in, very carefully, and brush my lips against his. This time, he breathes, his eyes falling closed.
I finally look up at Ky. His golden eyes are full of heat, watching us both. Waiting.
“You’re a part of this, too,” I say. “Join us.”
The king doesn’t move. His eyes flick between us as if he’s not sure he should dare.
