Before common sense could stop me, I rose on my toes, caught a fistful of his shirt, and tugged him near.
His pulse didn’t beat like mine. It hummed low and steady. But when he looked down at me, it tripped. Just once. For me.
Rising further on my toes, I kissed the vampire king like he was still mine.
CHAPTER TEN
KIERAN
For one wild moment, the world forgot itself.
Her mouth was on mine, warm, defiant, and tasting like sunshine after a hundred years of winter.
I forgot who I was.
My advisors gasped. I heard the shuffle of shoes, the agitated swish of their clothing. But none of it pierced the heat that detonated behind my ribcage.
Her body fit against mine as if the space between us had been waiting for her all along. The first brush of her lips stole the air from my lungs. She was warm, demanding, and utterly alive. The world fell away until there was only the slide of her mouth beneath mine and the dizzy rush of magic sparking between us. She tasted of citrus and something bright enough to burn.
My control shattered. I pulled her close and deepened the kiss, feeling her tremble, feeling myself shake even harder. Her hands latched onto my coat. I splayed my hands along the back of her waist, soaking in her heat through her gown. When she tilted her head and met me with that soft, answering hunger, I groaned. The taste of her, the press of her body, and the sweet surge of light spilling through every shadow I carried wasn’t enough. I wanted to drown in it and in her until there was nothing left but the fire we made between us.
I lifted my head, staring down at her.
Cyrene’s magic flared like the dawn.
And there was the absurdity of it all. Just hours ago, I’d practically asked her to pretend to be in love with me. To convince my advisors our marriage was real. Now she was doing precisely that, and I was… What? Upset that she’d taken the initiative? That she’d succeeded too well?
My problem was that I couldn’t tell where the pretense ended and truth began.
Cyrene’s magic spiraled away from us, infusing her joy into the world. Light burst in the vicinity, gold and pink and riotous. Petals of every color rained down from above, spinning on a warm current that shouldn’t exist in this cold kingdom.
From where he sat on the ground nearby, Quandary hiccupped a flame that stretched, bent, and when it impacted with her magic, arched into a shimmering rainbow over the maze hedge.
The little creature tumbled backward, smoke rings puffing from his nostrils, looking as shocked by the display as everyone else. He scrambled to his feet, wings fluttering, and flew up. He tried to fan away the rainbow with his tail, which only made it shimmer more.
I kissed Cyrene again. Her fingers curled into the front of my coat, and every disciplined muscle in me betrayed the six years of restraint I’d imposed on myself.
The taste of her joy magic was impossible to describe. It was warmth and memory, summer wine and laughter I hadn’t earned. My cold, shadow-bound magic rose to meet it, snarling like a caged beast desperate to devour light.
It wasn’t supposed to feel like this.
It wasn’t supposed to feel like anything at all.
When I finally tore my mouth from hers again, it wasn’t out of a sense of propriety. I couldn’t breathe. The air between us shimmered, thick with the echo of magic.
Her eyes were wide, bright, and fierce in the late afternoon light. For half a heartbeat, I saw triumph in them that was quickly replaced by shock. And then I spied something like fear.
Lady Aragorn hissed, “She’s bewitched him.”
I lowered Cyrene to the ground and faced them.
“I beg your pardon?” My voice came out softer than a whisper, sharper than a blade.
Lady Aragorn stumbled backward. “Your Majesty, this display, this enchantment… Surely the witch has used her charms?—”
“Be very careful what you say next,” I growled.
She went corpse-pale.
