It had beenhim.
My throat tightened. “I couldn’t sleep,” I finally muttered, the words tumbling out like a confession. “After today, after everything, I just—I couldn’t breathe in there.”
For a moment, I thought he might turn away, let the silence fall again.
Instead, he let out a bitter, frayed breath.
“Well,” he said, in a voice rough and edged with something far more dangerous than anger, “aftertoday, I’m not sureI’llever sleep again.”
His eyes slid past me, out toward the sheets of rain still pouring just beyond the alcove. His lips were pressed into a hard line. Water trickled down his temple, catching on the edge of his cheekbone before vanishing into the collar of his soaked tunic.
Heat flooded my cheeks. I groaned quietly, dragging my hands over my face and resisting the urge to sprint straight toward the cliffs and swan dive onto the rocks below.
“I’m sorry,” I murmured, the words slipping free before I could stop them. “About … about it all.”
He continued to stare out into the rain. His arms were rigid at his sides, hands clenched and dripping, breath shallow like he couldn’t quite pull enough air through the storm or through me.
“I shouldn’t have pulled you into the Trial. You weren’t supposed to be … involved. Not like …” I trailed off, flailing for words, for dignity, for a trapdoor to swallow me whole. “I needed to get his attention and—” I gestured vaguely, the rain making ribbons down my arms, my skin slick and shivering.
A wretched excuse. A half apology for practically writhing for him in front of the entire court. For looking at him like I was starving.
He didn’t respond at first, the sound of rain filling the silence between us. His eyes moved instead, sliding down the length of me until I could almost feel the weight of them. My pulse throbbed, a slick ache gathering between my legs that had nothing to do with the herb this time.
I glanced down and saw what he was seeing—my tunic was like a second skin, the soaked fabric clinging obscenely, gone completely sheer. Every curve of my body was on full display, the heavy swell of my breasts, the tight peaks of my nipples straining against the wet material, the dip of my waist flaring into my hips. Lower still, the dark shadow between my thighs was unmistakable, the outline of my sex pressed flush against the translucent cloth.
Absolutely nothing left to the imagination. And from the way his gaze darkened, devouring me like he was already stripping the last barrier away, I knew he was imagining everything.
“Don’t be sorry,” he rasped, pulling his gaze back to my face with what looked like immense effort.
I blinked, my pulse pounding. “Pardon?”
“I said don’t be sorry.” His voice was strained, like the storm had frayed it. “You weren’t holding a leash to keep me there.”
His hair was soaked, curling in uneven waves around his temples, rain dripping from the tip of his nose, his chin, his lashes. He looked ruined by theweather—and far too composed for it. His tunic clung to every line of his chest, the fresh scar on his side visible now, pale against golden skin. He shifted, and the muscles in his arms flexed with restrained tension.
The sight of him, furious and wet and utterly unreadable, tangled something deep in me.
My lips parted. Then closed. Then opened again before I could stop them. “So who does hold it, then?” I asked, my voice softer than I meant. “Who holds the leash on the great Achilles? Menelaus?”
It wasn’t teasing the way I’d intended. It came out wondering, edged with a need I couldn’t quite smother.
His gaze lingered on the outline of my body a beat longer, searing, before it climbed back up to my face. When his eyes found mine, wanting and endlessly blue, my spine straightened. I’d had enough stares today, but his … hisburned.
“I don’t wear leashes,” he said. “Especially not Menelaus’s. I wield them.”
It wasn’t a threat, but itscorchedjust the same.
My pulse stuttered. “Noted,” I murmured, barely above the rain. “Captain Achilles.”
He scoffed, like I’d said something ridiculous instead of simply his name. His eyes didn’t leave mine.
Even with the rain hissing around us, even with the storm crashing against the stone just beyond our little alcove, it felt like everything had gone silent. Like the whole world had narrowed to the space between us, to wet fabric clinging to trembling limbs, to breath shared in the dark.
I swallowed hard and the sound felt loud.
He took a step closer.
Not much. Just enough to steal what little space remained between us. Just enough that I could feel the heat of his body despite the cold. Just enough that his presence became unbearable.
