She drew Priya in, and Priya went gladly.
The bed was growing rumpled beneath them already, and Priya’s clothes were too heavy by far against her sweat-slick skin. And Priya had thought—maybe thought, in the quiet of a sleepless night, when she allowed herself the indulgence—that it would be sweet, the first time. Gentle. But Malini’s nails were sharp against her scalp, urging her fiercely on. And Malini was watching her, devouring her with her eyes, until suddenly she was not. Suddenly Malini was gasping, her throat flushed; Malini was tilting her head back, her body arching and falling, and her hands gripping ever tighter, until Priya could feel nothing but her, and taste nothing but her, andwantnothing but her.
“Don’t stop,” she commanded, and Priya did not. Didn’t stop until Malini bit out a curse, and dragged Priya up, and kissed her soundly again.
“Take this off,” Malini said impatiently, when their mouths parted, and Priya could only do as she was told—untangling herself from her own sari, until she was as naked as Malini. Malini sat up with her, and her hands were on Priya in an instant—heated palms against the wings of her shoulder blades, the curve of her back. Her thighs. The pleasure pooled through her like light.
“Malini,” she said. Pressed her face to Malini’s hair. “Malini.”
“Priya.”
Priya grasped Malini’s hands in her own. Held those hands between their bodies. Took a breath—simply to remind herself that shecould—and placed her wrists against Malini’s palms.
Malini stilled.
“I know you, Malini,” Priya said, her voice low with want. A little breathless. “I know what you want. I promise you. It’s freely given.”
A beat. Two. Then Malini’s grasp tightened on Priya’s wrists—a hold Priya could easily have broken, but had no desire to—and set her mouth to Priya’s throat. This time there was no hesitation. Just teeth and lips and tongue, punishingly fierce, all devotion.
“I’ve learned my lesson,” Malini said, low. “I know how to break you now. Let me show you.”
Priya did splinter, when she felt Malini’s mouth against her; when she felt those long, elegant fingers, and Malini’s voice against her skin, loving and lovingly cruel by turns.
Like that, Priya. Like this. I want to hear you. There. Just like this.
Priya. My love. Like this.
Later, they lay together in the half dark. Curled together. They stayed like that for a long time, speaking about everything and nothing all at once: about Priya’s new life as an elder. About all the changes Malini had seen in her own life, since becoming empress. And that was sweet, sweeter than anything. It had been so long since they’d had the gift of being so thoroughly alone together, and so tangled up in one another.
“You have a scar,” said Malini finally.
“Something strange happened to me in battle,” Priya admitted. “Something I didn’t expect.”
“That I gathered.”
Priya snorted. “Yes, I thought you might have from all the…” She gestured vaguely at her own body. “You know.”
“I do,” Malini agreed, a smile curling her mouth. Her eyes traced Priya’s face, slowly working their way lower—over her throat, her torso, her arms like a physical touch—before rising to meet Priya’s gaze again. There was nothing heated in her expression, nothing hungry—but her look had made Priya’s stomach knot and her blood burn hotter all the same.
“But I don’t mean that battle. I mean—in Saketa. When the fire fell,” Priya managed to say.
She took Malini’s hand and placed it against the curve of her hip. “Here,” she said. “Can you feel the shape of it? Like a—an arrowhead.”
“I can feel it,” Malini said. Her thumb moved carefully over the divot of Priya’s hip—over the dip of flesh against bone.
“It was—because of my magic.”
“You don’t need to explain your magic,” Malini said carefully.
“You want to know, though,” Priya pointed out.
“I have always wanted to know.”
Deep breath. “It was the fire,” she said. “The fire stopped me for a moment. Took away my magic.”
“But you’re healed,” Malini murmured.
Priya shook her head. “All that matters,” she said. “Is. Is if you want me in battle…”
