She sounds so confused that I find myself explaining. “The creatures with antlers. They live in the forest. You would have seen herds of them when we flew here.”
Her lips purse. “Antlers?”
My lips stretch into a grin, because it’s clear to me she must never have seen them before. “The bony protrusions on their heads.”
Her face pales. “Is that what that bone is called?”
I’m instantly regretful, an unwanted emotion I’ve experienced too many times today, but I tell myself to feel it this time, because I’ve reminded her of the antler I used to kill her would-be assassin.
All the water in the world can’t erase what happened to her tonight or the fact that the body remains outside this room, but I refuse to let her slip back into shock.
My right hand snakes around the back of her head. My other hand falls lightly to the top of her arm, which she’s using to cover her breasts. She’s been standing outside the water and away from my body heat for long enough that goosebumps are rising across her skin.
I lower my head to hers, but I don’t kiss her, keeping my lips apart from hers, daring her to close the gap.
Her focus immediately returns to me, the faraway look in her eyes disappearing, and her defiance returning.
“You’re cold,” I say, keeping my eyes raised to hers as I lower my mouth to her arm, watching her closely while I nudge kisses along her forearm, applying downward pressure at the same time.
It’s the lightest urging. Still easy for her to keep her arm where it is, covering her breasts.
But then, she lowers it.
Just a little.
Just enough for me to dip my head to the top of her left breast and drag my lips across it.
The rise and fall of her chest becomes more rapid, pushing her skin against my mouth, an arch forming in her back, and, once again, I fight the desireto sweep her up against the wall and fuck her. Slowly. Not fast. Drawing it out. Making her cry for release.
It’s only the middle of the night. We’ve got hours until dawn. Hours I could spend exploring every part of her body, discovering what she likes.
Her arm slips low enough that I can lick my tongue across the top of her nipple, gratified when the soft flick I give it makes her moan.
But I’ve continued to watch her, check her reactions, and now the corners of her mouth turn down, and she’s trembling again.
I lift my head away from her, trying to understand her body language, uncertain how to interpret it.
Then it comes to me like an icy blast.
I’ve seen that look on my own face in the mirror. Just as I’ve seen her fury reflected back at me.
She fucking hates herself right now.
If she wants to fuck me… Well. She hates herself for it.
Of course she would. Her father died today. The way she speaks about him, she loved him as much as I love Cassia, Victor, and even Hadrian. If Cassia had died today, I’d be tearing down the world.
I don’t regret my actions just now. I wanted to draw Thyra out of her shock, and I did that, but it’s just as well that this heat between us ends now.
After all, my monstrous instincts will begin rising again soon enough, and the chances of losing control and killing her will increase with them.
“A need that can’t be quenched,” I murmur, unable to keep the hollow from my voice. “For either of us.”
It takes all of my willpower to step away from her, letting go of my wild thoughts and putting a final stop to them. Or rather, I try. My body is infuriatingly slowto respond.
I focus determinedly on the wall to the right, pressing a panel in it that clicks and slides out of the way, revealing two shelves embedded in the wall cavity. One shelf contains large, soft drying cloths. The other stores clothing.
I don’t have any bloomers, let alone a woman’s size, so I can’t help her there, but I can offer her a clean tunic. One of my smaller ones from when I was younger. Luckily, I didn’t throw them all out.
