A moan trips up my throat, but I curl my tongue around it, holding it at bay. I want to shrink from him. I want to nuzzle closer. I want to push my leg into the heel of his hand until his touch slips higher, because this feeling, goddess, this feeling…
Once, when I was a girl, I went to the seaside. I remember standing in the sand, sinking deeper as the waves rushed past, each surge pulling more ground out from underneath me.
This is like that all over again. Because I’m falling, sinking, dragged down into a hazy cloud of want. I don’t knowwhat, exactly, I crave so deeply, only that the same mindless hunger that gripped me in the forest overtakes me again. Only this time, it’s hotter, sharper, more acute. Enough that my head lolls on my shoulders, my spine loosening as my legs unclench on their own. Maybe my entire body has gone rogue, because I stare at Amriel through heavy lashes, unable to do anything else.
“Stop moving,” he hisses. But he must have felt my posture slacken, because he glances up.
And immediately goes stiff, every line of his body snapping to attention.
I gaze down at widened, golden eyes. At black silk, draped around a body carved from raw power. At white hair tumbling over wide shoulders.
I could reach out, slide my hand through those strands. How would they feel? Like silk, probably. Like starlit satin, slipping between my fingers.
For some unknown reason, my tongue glides across my bottom lip. Amriel’s eyes follow the movement before returning to mine. We stare at one another, suspended in a timeless heartbeat.
“I told you not to touch me,” he finally says, his voice shaky.
“And I didn’t. You touched me. Again.”
It comes out in a low-pitched voice I’ve never heard before, in a voice that belongs to somebody else. Worse, it doesn’t sound like an accusation. More like an invitation.
Maybe Amriel takes it as one, because his grip flares, his fingers splaying tighter around my thigh, heedless of the blood still seeping from my wound.
The last of my hurt dissipates, borne away by the tidal wave that lifts me up and carries me toward him. Is this the mate bond at work? Because it’s like the Shadow never caught me. It’s like pain doesn’t exist, never has.
Amriel remains motionless. He doesn’t seem to be breathing, and my awareness narrows to the drape of stiff gray fabric across the inside of my thigh. His thumb presses into my flesh just inches away, but he could slide it aside so easily.
What wouldthatfeel like? My body begs to know. My legs splay half an inch wider, nudging against his grip, asking him a question.
Goddess. What am I doing? This is everything I’ve forsworn, but some primal force has woken in my blood and seized control. One that has no interest in right or wrong.
“You could, you know,” I say, again in that unfamiliar voice.
Amriel shudders—visibly, full-bodied. Then he breaks away, his answer coming in the form of downcast eyes, in his touch withdrawn. Only he doesn’t do it quickly. His fingers trail downmy leg, curling briefly around my ankle before forcing themselves open. Then he just sits there, his head bowed, his hands clamped around his knees so tightly the fabric strains beneath his grip.
Silence reigns, broken only by the scrape of Amriel’s breathing, his quietly muttered, “Fuck.”
And still, I stare down.
I don’t know why. I hate him. I hate what he’s done to me, what he’sstilldoing. Yet in this moment, the picture of him etches itself on my mind.
Because the immortal king at my feet doesn’t look all that immortal right now. He looks like a man, raw and bruised and fighting with himself.
His hands curl into fists. He pushes up and away, turning a disoriented circle, as if he’s forgotten where the door is. When he finally finds it, he lunges for the exit. The distance between us widens, the spell that bound us breaking. The moment the haze clears, horror creeps in to take its place.
Oh, goddess. Did I just…proposition him? A man I met yesterday? Who Idetest?
One hand flies to my mouth, the other to my pendant. I clutch it so tightly the points bite into my palm, but the metal doesn’t respond. No warmth. No offer of reassurance.
I grimace, even though Ishanna has every right to forsake me. Why wouldn’t she? I just surrendered to temptation. To lust.
Yet another sin to add to my growing collection.
Amriel reaches the door without slowing. The pendant falls from my grip, my feet propelling me upright. He can’t just touch me uninvited, then walk away and leave me to deal with the consequences.
Angry words boil out of me. “What’re you doing? Where’re you going?”
He pauses on the threshold, his back still turned. “To see my Shadow. He’ll be back soon. Down in the hall.”
