I told myself I’d make their lives hell.
But if I’m not careful, they’re going to make me crave it.
Chapter 23
Vale
Ember doesn’t hear me at first. She’s still staring at the door Rook slammed, one hand pressed to her mouth like she can erase what just happened.
I stay in the shadows a little longer, enjoying the rare sight of her off balance. Then I step forward. “You really should lock the door after a scene like that, Red.”
She jumps, spinning. “Vale—what the hell—”
“Relax.” I lift my hands. “I was only making sure the King didn’t break you.”
“I don’t need you checking on me,” she growls.
“Sure you don’t.” I move closer, slow enough that the air tightens between us. “But humor me.”
She tries for anger, and it falters halfway. “You were watching.”
“Observing,” I correct, smiling. “Someone’s got to look out for the cracks in our perfect little empire.” I study her a moment. “And you,mi reina, look like a very interesting crack.”
“Stop calling me that,” she grouches with a heavy sigh.
“Which part offends you—the ‘my’ or the ‘queen’?” I ask.
“Both.”
“Liar,” I counter.
The word lands between us, and she goes still. I can almost hear her heartbeat, quick and uneven.
“You’ve got him spinning,” I say softly. “Rook. Wraith. Even Saint’s saying prayers again. You know what that means?”
“That I’m winning?” She asks smugly, a cheeky little smirk tugging at the corner of that delicious mouth.
“That you’re dangerous.”
I reach out, tracing a strand of her hair behind her ear. She doesn’t move away. Her breath catches instead.
“Vale—”
“Shh.” My fingers slide to her jaw, my thumb brushing the corner of her mouth. “You’ve been pretending you don’t wantany of this. But every time one of us gets close, you stop breathing.”
“I should hit you for that,” she bites out.
“You should.” I step in until we’re a breath apart. “But you won’t.”
The air breaks before either of us does. I tilt my head, just enough for her to meet me halfway. The kiss is inevitable—slow at first, then hungry, sharp, like testing a blade’s edge. She tastes like defiance and adrenaline. I grip the back of her neck, deepening it once, twice, and then a devastating third time before pulling away with a low laugh that sounds more like surrender.
“There,” I whisper, foreheads still touching. “Now I know what all the fuss is about.”
She blinks, dazed, trying to steady her breathing. “You—”
“—should go before I decide I need another taste,” I finish for her. I step back, smoothing the grin back into place. “Tell the King his control’s contagious. I might be losing mine.”
And before she can answer, I turn and walk out, the echo of her pulse still thrumming against my lips.
