He spun her away from him again, then folded her back into his arms, their chests pressed together once more. Holding her eyes, he said, “When you asked about the candles, and I said this wouldn’t be the first time, I meant that I’ve done this for you before. Or something like it. Twice, in fact.”
“When?”
He grinned, and there was a bashful quality to it. “The most recent time was for the dinner we never got to have last summer. I had to coerce Mareleau into helping me organize it, but…”
He didn’t need to finish. She knew what had happened that night. She’d been an emotional wreck after remembering the curse Morkai had placed upon her, and Teryn had gotten captured in the mage’s crystal. Sometimes she wondered what would have happened if she’d never turned him away that night, if she’d gone to dinner with him instead of sitting alone with her pain, but it was folly to wonder. What was done was done.
“The first time, though,” Teryn said, “was when I asked you to come see me in the garden at Verlot Palace.”
Her heart sank. “The night I left. When I…when I thought you’d married Mareleau.”
He nodded, chuckling to himself. “I had the most ridiculous spectacle prepared for you. A candlelit alcove, a harpist, a table set with wine and sweets.”
Regret had never pierced her so hard as it did now. She had no clue he’d done that for her. “I’m so sorry?—”
“Don’t apologize,” he said, and there was only gentleness in his tone. “I’m not telling you this, doing this, to make you feel guilty. I’m doing this because I never want to miss anything between us ever again. Never want to miss any chance, any opportunity. Obstacles have drawn us apart, but I will never let them hold me back.” His tone turned serious, as did his expression. A fierceness shone on his face, one that told of the hardships they’d endured, the darkness they’d faced and survived.
The song began to slow, the mechanical melody reaching its end. They stopped their dance but neither stepped away. Cora’s heart raced, knowing it was time. She could feel the shift in Teryn’s mood as well as her own, something as fierce and sharp as lightning crackling in the air between them. Invisible layers fell away, confessions breaching the frail walls they’d both constructed to hold them in place. It was a mutual shedding. A mutual baring of souls. She knew this. Felt this.
Teryn stepped even closer and framed her cheeks in his hands. His eyes locked on hers, blazing with an emerald fire so heated she couldn’t look away. “I almost died, Cora. All of us have danced with death, you, me, Larylis, Mareleau. We don’t know what lies ahead and our time as living beings isn’t guaranteed. I don’t want to waste a single second of this life not loving you. Not showing you, in all that I do, that I deeply and steadfastly love you.”
Cora nearly sagged against him at the sound of those words. Her lashes fluttered shut as she let them wash over her. She’d known it in her heart, but hearing him say it—finallysay it—was different.
“You love me?” Her voice quavered.
“Of course I love you.” Restraint edged his voice, as if he wanted to shout the words, declare them for the world to hear. “I’ve said it to you so many times in my mind, in my heart, but you never heard me. I fought to utter the words when my spirit was barely clinging to my body. I’ve sung it from the depths of my soul. I know you couldn’t hear me, but did you never once at least feel its melody?”
“I did,” she breathed. “I even sang it back to you. Just…just never aloud.”
He released a slow breath, then pressed his forehead to hers. “I’m still waiting to hear it,” he said, and this time there was a note of teasing in his voice.
Her heart slammed against her ribs. Yes, now was the time.
She swallowed hard.
“I love you, Teryn. I’m sorry I’m not as romantic as you. I’m sorry I’m not as brave or eloquent with my words?—”
“No,” he whispered. Placing his forefinger under her chin, he lifted her face, forcing her to meet his eyes. “You’re perfect as you are. I want nothing more from you. Let me spoil you. Let me say the things I couldn’t put to pen and paper. Let me make a fool of myself before you. You don’t have to do anything in return. Just love me.”
“I do. I love you. I can’t even tell you how much I do.”
He sighed, and it seemed to drag years off his visage, making him look boyish and beautiful and carefree. Mischief worked the corner of his mouth. “Does that mean I’ve good and properly wooed you?”
Cora remembered the promise he’d once made. That even though they were engaged, he’d court her. That before they lived as true husband and wife, he’d win her heart, no matter how long it took.
She realized there was something else she needed to make clear. Placing her hands on his chest, she gathered the collar of his shirt in her fists and tugged him closer. “I don’t need you to court me or woo me anymore, Teryn. I don’t need us to take our marriage slow, nor do I want to. Do you understand? I’m already yours.”
“You’re mine?” She’d never seen such a gorgeous smile. His face lit up with it, with pleasure, with pride.
“And you’re mine.” She pulled him closer again, their bodies flush. The same fierce quality she’d glimpsed on his face earlier now burned inside her, sparking yearning. Now that she’d said all that she’d wanted to say, her body tingled with the desire she’d been holding at bay. It rushed through her arms, filling her palms. It coursed down her legs, gathering at her core. Gods, she loved him. Gods, she wanted him.
A look of surprise crossed his face. Then a question. “When you say you don’t want to take our marriage slow…”
She answered him with a kiss.
9
Their lips met with a reckless fervor, parting at once. Her tongue swept against his, tasting their mutual confession. Cora trembled at the flood of desire pouring through her, so strong it was as if it had broken a dam. She supposed that was expected after she’d pent it up all afternoon and evening. Now she turned herself over to it, let her body take the lead. Her muscles uncoiled as if breathing a collective sigh, one that saidfinally. Every ounce of tension that left her body collected in a pool of heat at her center, warming her lower belly, burning in a ball of hungry heat between her thighs. Meanwhile, her heart opened, expanded, singing with the glorious revelation, the trust, that Teryn loved her. He well and truly loved her.
