A small smile crept onto her face as Cael settled into his chair, spreading his legs wide.
She cocked an eyebrow and he chuckled. “What? I tortured myself with this shit all afternoon. Now it’syourturn.” He ran his fingers along the cloth cover. “Do you know why my performance with Elodie this afternoon was so convincing? Convincing enough that she didn’t notice me slipping off her necklace?”
“Why?” Xenia asked, her breath trapped in her throat.
Cael tilted his head down, peering at her through his dark lashes. A rare, toe-curling appearance from shy Cael. “Because I was thinking about you.”
Warmth prickled across Xenia’s limbs, settling between her thighs.
“Come over here,” he whispered, patting his knee, “and take off your cardigan.”
She obeyed, perching herself in his lap and nestling her head against his shoulder. His arms encircled her as he flipped through the pages, then held the book open with one hand as he placed the other at her hip, rubbing in idle, soothing circles.
Her eyes slid closed as Cael began to read.
“She is the summer storm that drenches parched fields.
“Her love is relief.
“She is the autumn wind that strips away dried death.
“Her love is remedy.
“She is the winter snow that shields barren land.
“Her love is protection.
“She is the spring sun that coaxes fledgling green.
“Her love is renewal.
“All the seasons of my heart, from coldest stone to warmest growth,
“Belong to you, and you alone.
“My lady. My love.”
Lulled by the silky cadence of Cael’s voice and the beauty of the poem, Xenia laid against him and matched his breathing. In this moment, she didn’t care where they were or what danger they were in or what lay ahead of them.
All that mattered was that she’d found her way back to him. And had somehow helped him find a way back to himself. Despite everything, the Cael she’d known these past weeks had been light, upbeat. Teasing, even. She hadn’t even broached the subject of his missing wing.
But maybe she’d never needed to. Maybe just showing up here, having risked her life and her safety, had proven to him what she’d always known. That he was worth something. Wortheverything. If only to her.
Was it enough? To be everything to just one single person? She knew it was for her.
But she’d never dared hope that it would be enough for him, too.
He closed the book and placed it on the table, then turned her in his lap to face him. Her thighs parted around his as he wrapped an arm around her waist and tangled his fingers through her curls.
She placed steadying hands on his firm chest and stared into his thundercloud eyes.
The side of his lip quirked up. “Did my performance pass muster?”
Her own rose in response. “I suppose it will do.”
“Cruel little human.” He tugged on her hair, a reprimand. “Laetitius certainly does have a way with words, though. Said it better than I ever could.” His eyes bounced between hers, their faces close enough that she could taste the wind on his breath. “I've wanted you since the moment you flung this finger in my face and called me a pterodactyl.” She laughed as he plucked up the offending finger and placed a gentle kiss upon it. “But I’m a stubborn, foolish bastard, and it took me far,fartoo long to admit it. After I lost my wing?—”
“You don’t have to?—”
