It isn’t sudden honor that makes the task of facing up to my worst failings seem surmountable—it’s entirely selfish.
Because love is both selfless and selfish—I’d give up the entire world to keep Niko, to keep my power, to keep Letum, but I will not give them up for the world. I’ll damn it all to hell—everything, including my freedom—for those precious things.
“Yes,” I whisper as more tears pour down my face. Tears borne of newfound clarity, of Niko’s heart and mine both laid bare between us.
Adytum.
I’ve finally remembered what it means. In the most ancient of stories, the myths and legends my father told me as a child from civilizations long extinct, towering temples were built to gods whose names have been lost to time.
And in these, were always an innermost chamber, a place reserved only for the most holy. Small and deep, a place of peace, of quiet reflection and dedicated worship: a sanctuary.
And in a universe of pain and darkness, what is more sacred than a place of solace? Of respite?
“Yes, Niko,” I say again. “I want you. I want anadytum.”
His eyes widen and his hands finally unfurl from his sides, like my words have freed him from his self-inflicted cage. He wraps me in his arms, lifting me up and pulling me firmly against the carved planes of his chest. I wind my legs around his waist, meeting his gaze.
“Give me sanctuary,” I plead softly.
The King of Carrion’s control snaps and he crushes me to him, taking my mouth beneath his. He kisses me with an ardent desperation, and as I lose myself in him, I find exactly what I’ve always been searching for.
True freedom.
Chapter thirty-seven
Niko’s touch is more than sanctuary—it’s the altar on which I worship. A pyre on which to burn. And though death should be cold, right now, Niko is pure flame as he sweeps his lips over mine and threads his fingers through my hair to tug my mouth closer. The spark beneath my skin ignites, and every part of me blazes in response. Incinerated entirely, a burnt offering to the Lord of Death.
He’s insatiable in the way he possesses me, like every touch is both his first and his last. His mouth slides over my throat, his breath a hot breeze over my bare skin as he drags the thick cloak from my shoulders. When he pulls back to admire the tiny satin night gown, I grin wickedly at the strangled growl that sounds in the back of his throat.
“Took you long enough to notice,” I laugh. “Vision going in your old age, Corpsey?”
His eyes glint, devouring the starlight, as his fingers run so softly over the material, goosebumps rise on my skin. He doesn’tbother to respond, only grabs my waist and spins us around so I’m the one pressed up against the palace wall.
“You have two seconds to imagine us somewhere more private before I haul you up on that railing and fuck you senseless.” Niko raises a dark brow, and heat pulses through my core as I realize he’s entirely serious.
I consider testing how deeply my fear of heights truly runs, but the idea of having Niko to myself is too hard to resist.Mine,I think as he sweeps his tongue along the seam of my lips and palms the curve of my breast.Mine,I think as my eyes flicker shut. As his other hand dives beneath the short lace hem of the nightgown to find me bare and wet beneath.Mine, mine, mine,as his fingers press into me and a sharp curse shoots from his mouth.
Forever.
My power simmers up from behind my heart, and floods through my veins. I sloppily paint Niko’s bedroom in my mind, and then the world spins around us. After another quick blink, I’m stumbling backward into his piano.
He chases after me with a dark laugh as a deep, chaotic note echoes from the instrument and bounces off the angled glass walls of the atrium. Niko’s tongue slips into my mouth, and as he leans the full weight of his hips between my legs, pressing me further into the keys, another wild note reverberates after it.
“Your piano,” I yelp. But I only kiss him harder, my hands restlessly roaming over the carved muscles of his shoulders, down his spine to yank at the hem of his shirt.
“Fuck the piano,” he murmurs, his hair sticking up wildly around his head, as I toss the shirt to the floor.
He winds my legs around his waist, and leans his hips more firmly into me, until I can feel the hard ridge of him against my core. More discordant music sounds from the piano as Ileverage myself against his weight, the sound as tumultuous as the feelings racing through my body.
“Besides,” he whispers, nipping at my throat and then soothing the sting with the flat of his tongue. “I like the sound of our music.”
The words are innocent enough, but in Niko’s mouth they’re decadent; filthy.
He takes my lips beneath his once more, every dance of his tongue, every sweep of his lips, heating my skin with the polarity of us. We are both carnal wickedness and sacred divinity; a beginning and an end, creation and void. The rightness has me moaning into his mouth, grinding against him, clawing closer and closer.
His ribbons slither toward me to wrap around my ankles. A sound between a gasp and a whimper echoes in my throat, as the feeling of death—a bite of pain followed by the sweep of relief—slides over me in a tempting caress.
More notes reverberate around us as the ribbons pull my legs wide, splaying me over the keys. Niko’s eyes flash, as he steps back to admire me entirely bared to him. And though I’m the one restrained, spread and vulnerable before him, there is nothing weak about it. The way he looks at me—pure possession mixed with humble awe—has heady power racing through my veins.
