“I love you,” I told him, though I didn’t need to. He couldfeelit across the bond. “And I made such a mess of it.”
We both did,he told me across the bond.But it’sourmess.
His lips were on mine before I knew it, warm and firm. It wasn’t even quite a kiss, it was a meeting of our mouths, a sharing of our breath, a mingling of our bond. We held each other there, his neck uncomfortably craned down over the wall while I went up as high as I could on my tiptoes.
I smiled at the ridiculousness, as tears dripped down my face from the rightness of it.
Come back home with me,he said in my mind.
I pulled back, a shy smile flitting across my face. This was all so new. I still didn’t even know what this meant for us.
“I can’t,” I said. “If Syris woke up and found me gone in the morning, she’d worry herself sick. Tarkosh already keeps two eyes on me at all times. I don’t need to go disappearing in the night again.”
“I meant back to Grym,” he murmured.
My breath hitched, surprise widening my eyes as they flickered over his serious expression.
“After the season is over,” he continued, his eyes drifting to my lips, pressing a small kiss there. “But we can discuss it later.”
Right.
The Arsadia was only his temporary home. I hadn’t given much thought to what would come beyond the next moment these days. So the fact that he was thinking of the future, ofourfuture, made my insides feel a little melted.
“Even when everything is so uncertain between us?” I asked.
“I don’t feel uncertain about us,mariss,” he replied. “Not at all. I made my decision when I bonded our magic. It was simple for me.”
Was it as easy as that? A simple decision?
Maybe it was me who was overcomplicating it, overthinking too many things when maybe it was so incredibly simple.
“It is simple,” he agreed. “Move back from the wall.”
I frowned, confused, but did as he asked, pacing back a few feet, watching as he jumped and swung himself over it effortlessly.
“What are you doing?” I whispered.
“I don’t intend to sleep without you tonight, and you will not leave the hatchery. So it’s simple,” he said again, taking my hand, guiding me back to the hatchery door, which was still ajar.
A small bubble of a laugh rose in my throat, though I tried to stifle it. “No outsiders are allowed in at night.”
Not that Moak ever abided by those rules, judging from the sounds I sometimes heard coming from his room. Though none recently, strangely enough.
Alaryk gave me a dry look. “I think Tarkosh will make an exception for me.”
“The bed is so small,” I added, following behind him. “You’ll barely fit.”
“Then you’ll sleep on top of me,” he answered. He raised his brow over his shoulder. “Simple. Anything else?”
No,I thought, making my decision as I slipped into the hallway behind him. I didn’t have it in me to stay away from him.
Good,he replied silently.
Inside my room, I watched as Alaryk quietly bolted the door. The candle had burned further, the light of the flame dim. He undressed, hanging his tunic and trews over the back of the chair.
I watched from the foot of my bed, my eyes skimming over hardened planes and deep ridges of muscle. My fingers curled into my palm, and when he approached me, knowing in his gaze, I tipped my head back, baring my throat.
His thumb rested on the indent just below my lip as he stared down at my face, his eyes flickering across it like he was memorizing every line, every dip, every swell.
