“You’re—” Her breath broke as I let my hands slide a fraction lower, still not quite where she wanted them. “You’re impossible.”
“You keep saying that,” I said. “And yet, here you are.”
She twisted, turning to face me. Water sloshed quietly. Her eyes were darker now, pupils blown, lashes clumped with steam. “Because I trust you,” she said, the words spilling out like she hadn’t meant to say them. “Even when I shouldn’t.”
My chest tightened. Gently, I reached up and cradled her jaw in my palm, thumb brushing the damp skin beneath her lower lip.
“You should,” I said. “You can.”
“You’re going to die for me,” she whispered, throat thick. “Someday. Because of that stupid vow. Because of my father. Because of everything I am. How am I supposed to live with that and still?—”
“Love me?” I finished when she couldn’t.
Her eyes flickered.
I huffed out a short, humorless laugh. “I’ve got news for you, Furious. You already do.”
She glared weakly. “You’re very sure of yourself.”
“I’m sure of us,” I said. “The rest can go to Hel.”
She looked at me like she wanted to throw something. Or cry. Or kiss me until she couldn’t stand upright. “What changed?” she asked quietly. “You were the one who keptsaying we couldn’t, because of your vow. Because you didn’t want to tie me to a male who’s already promised his death away.”
“I went to Hel,” I said. “Or as close as I could manage. I called your father and tried to rip that vow out of his hands.”
Her eyes widened. “You what?”
“I failed,” I admitted. “He wouldn’t let me take it back. Wouldn’t free me from it.” My thumb dragged slowly across her cheekbone. “But I realized something. The gods aren’t in control of me any more than they’re in control of Heliconia. They can demand my death all they like. They don’t get to dictate my life.”
Emotion thickened her voice. “So you decided to live.”
“I decided to live for you,” I said. “For as long as I have.” I leaned in, my forehead touching hers. “I am going to fight beside you. Bleed beside you. Sleep beside you. And no god, no queen, no throne gets to tell me I can’t claim what I want before they try to take it away.”
Her breath hitched. “You want me,” she whispered.
“I want all of you,” I said. “Every sharp edge. Every scar. Every reckless, infuriating, impossible part.”
Her fingers rose from the water, trembling, and fisted in the front of my shirt. “Then take me,” she said, voice barely more than air.
I smiled, slow and lethal. “With pleasure.”
I bent and kissed her.
She met me with a desperate, ferocious hunger that knocked the air from my lungs. Her mouth opened for me, hot and sweet and familiar all at once, like something I’d been starving for and finally, finally gotten my hands on. Her wet fingers slid up into my hair, pulling me closer, dragging me in until there was no space left between us.
The world narrowed to her lips, her breath, the little sounds she made when I deepened the kiss, when I angled myhead just right. My hands found her shoulders, then her back, then the slick, heated curve of her waist under the water. I hauled her closer, until she was pressed to the side of the tub and I was braced over her, half-kneeling, half-caged by my own need.
She gasped against my mouth, then kissed me harder, like she could crawl inside my skin and stay there.
“Rydian,” she breathed when we broke for air, her lips swollen, eyes dazed. “Bed. Now.”
I chuckled, low and dark. “Impatient, Princess.”
“You’ve been torturing me for days,” she said. “Weeks. Years.”
“Fair point,” I conceded.
I peeled my shirt over my head and tossed it aside, her gaze following the motion hungrily. Her eyes dragged over the runes on my skin, the scars, the shadows pooling at my feet like they were waiting for what would come next.
