“Undoubtedly.”
And then his lips were on mine, gentle at first, a question I answered by pressing closer. His hands released mine to slide around my waist, pulling me against him as the kiss deepened.
Unlike our kiss near the maze, this one made no political statement. It was just us, our magic, and the truth that whatever lay between us was far from pretend.
I wound my arms around his neck, threading my fingers through the silky hair at his nape. He made a hungry sound low in his throat that sent heat spiralingthrough me. His tongue swept against mine, and I tasted need.
My knees actually weakened, which was such a cliché, but here I was, clinging to his shoulders as though he was the only solid thing in a spinning world. Each brush of his lips against mine sent sparks cascading through my veins. He was awakening parts of me that had been dormant since the last time we were together. And the way he held me, with one hand splayed across my lower back, the other cradling my head, made my heart come to a standstill.
Our magic flared in response, joy and shadows merging in a dizzying swirl around us. Books flew from shelves. Glass jars rattled. The obsidian stone cracked with a sharp ping, releasing a cascade of purple butterflies that burst upward in a glittering cloud.
We broke apart, breathless.
A delighted gasp from above told me we weren’t alone. Cordelia hovered near the ceiling, her hands clasped over her heart, her expression rapturous.
I shot her a warning look that she completely ignored, instead making an encouraging gesture that clearly meant kiss him again.
Kieran followed my gaze, seeing nothing but empty air where the ghost floated.
“Something wrong?” he asked.
“Nothing,” I said quickly, as Cordelia pretended to swoon dramatically. “Just…making sure we didn’t set anything on fire.”
His eyes, still dark with desire, returned to mine. “Besides the obvious, you mean.”
“Just a bit of magical instability. A natural reaction when opposing magical forces interact.”
His thumb traced my lower lip, sending shivers through me. “Is that what the grimoires call it?”
“Absolutely.” My voice hitched as his hand slid to cup my jaw. “A textbook case of magical resonance.”
“Resonance.” His smile did nothing to help my composure. “Fascinating.”
“Purely academic, of course.”
“Of course.” His gaze dropped to my mouth again. “We should probably study it further. For the treaty.”
“For the treaty.” I was already leaning toward him again.
This time when our lips met, neither of us pretended it was about anything but us.
With his vampire senses, he must’ve been overwhelmed by my thundering heartbeat, the heat blooming beneath my skin, the changes in my breathing. Yet he seemed to savor it, drinking in every reaction as if cataloging what made me respond. Fates help me, I was melting under his expertise, my knees turning to mush as he pulled me closer, one hand splayed across my lower back.
His kiss was possessive, a stark contrast to the careful restraint he usually wore like armor. My magic responded in kind, joyful and uncontained, wrapping around us both in a cocoon of golden light.
When we finally pulled apart, the tower room looked as though a whirlwind had swept through it. Books lay open on every surface. The teacups had toppled over. Butterflies perched on shelves andwindow frames, their wings slowly opening and closing.
And Kieran, controlled, composed Kieran, looked wonderfully disheveled. His hair mussed where my fingers had gripped it. His perfectly tailored jacket askew.
“Well,” he said, his voice rougher than usual. “That was…”
“Educational,” I said.
A smile tugged at his lips. “Indeed.”
Feminine pride surged through me. His pupils had dilated, nearly swallowing the midnight blue of his irises. The composed vampire king was breathing hard, his chest rising and falling rapidly. When he swallowed, his throat worked, and I found myself fascinated by that small sign of his affected state.
“You.” He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “Are dangerous in ways I never anticipated.” His fingertips lingered on my cheek, and I leaned into his touch like a flower seeking sunlight. The gesture was so intimate, so unlike his usual careful distance, that it made my heart ache more than any passionate kiss could.
