The space felt different from either of ours, expansive, centered by a massive canopy bed—easily large enough for three dragonlings.
“Subtle.” He chuckled, walking ahead.
A bath chamber flanked one side, a dressing room on the other. Rich rugs cushioned the stone floor. Velvet chairs and curved sofas stood as sentinels along the walls.
My lips curled as I watched him pace through each space, checking corners. His instincts never rested. So much like his friend—yet where one moved in shadow, Kallias walked like a blazing sun. Power threaded through every step.
His shoulders eased as he returned, nodding at last.
“I wasn’t aware there were rooms this large,” he muttered, his gaze snagging on the bed.
“You’d be surprised what secrets the Spire holds.”
A quiet hum of amusement left him as I guided him toward the stand meant for his mantle. Two wooden mannequins stood side by side—one broader, one shaped for me.
My fingers drifted to the thick chains across his chest, and I watched his face, waiting for permission. His shoulders paused on a breath, while a muscle ticked along his jaw. His chin dipped ever so slightly, cornflower eyes locked on mine.
The first chain slid loose.
With every length that fell, my heart thudded harder. I bore this burden with him now. As his queen, we would rule Radaan together—equal partners, joined in purpose. He no longer had to stand alone.
One clasp remained, the final golden link drawn taut. Butterflies swarmed low in my belly. He hadn’t moved, allowing me to undo the weight on my own.
The clasp gave with a soft click. His yoke hung heavy, and I braced as he rolled his shoulders, letting it slide free. His hands closed over mine, helping to lift and place it on the stand.
Then his touch found me—warm and captivating along my chest.
My heart kicked against his palms. My skin lit beneath his fingers, hypersensitive and expectant. I studied his face, and his brow tightened into deep concentration. When his hand brushed my breast, my breath hitched.
The contact sparked through every nerve, and my body screamed for more—to move, tackle him—but I held back. This was an exercise of patience. This wouldn’t be frantic. Not stolen. Not rushed.
He closed the space between us, his hips brushing mine. Then—slowly—he began to undo my chains. Each metal link skimmed my bodice with a whisper, a tease, a hint of promise.
My breath came shallow, fast. Every brush of his knuckles tantalized. By the time the final chain dropped, I trembled.
Calloused hands slid along my shoulders as he lifted the mantle away, setting it aside. My fingers found his coat buttons, and one by one, I worked them free. He let the overcoat fall, broad chest rising with a deep breath.
Next came the vest. Then the tunic. I tugged it loose, and he peeled it over his head.
My body purred in approval, knowing he was mine. His strong frame would press against me, moving with hunger and frantic need as–
A gasp shattered the moment.
I spun.
Kallias shoved me behind him, instinctively protective.
Freya stood frozen in the doorway, a steaming bucket in her hands. “Your Majesty—I didn’t expect—I brought the bath.”
Kalliasturned toward me, a look of pure desperation twisting his features. His eyes screamed of betrayal by the fates. “I can bathe you,” he muttered, low, husky, on the brink of snapping.
Freya muffled her squeak while I smoothed my palms down his chest. “Patience, good king.”
“I’ve been patient enough,” he growled, letting me step around him.
Smirking, I beckoned my maid toward the bath chamber.
She followed, cheeks flushed, shutting us inside. “Sea beneath,” she hissed. “I didn’t think it would happen that fast! I came as soon as I heard the door!”
