One of the most dangerous men in Malhaven had a bath carved out of a single amethyst rock, jagged and glittering at the edges, smooth and translucent inside.
It could also fit at least five bodies. Large, northern ones, too.
“Hmm.” I placed my hands on my hips, back turned to him, because a wet Ryker was tempting. A naked one was dangerous. “It’s much better than mine.”
Ryker’s laugh bounced off the golden veins, drumming straight into my chest. “You can use it whenever you like. Your room–”
The rustle of clothes behind me stopped.
My ears quirked. “Yes?”
“Your room,” he said at last, sounding reluctant even then. “Was built while I was growing up. As an alternative.”
“For?”
“When couples don’t get along,” was all he said, and I didn’t press.
I already knew Ryker had no love for his father. From the few details he’d shared about the man, always with a disgusted curl to his lip, I didn’t like him, either.
“So your room’s the main one,” I teased to break the sudden tension. “Such a selfish host.”
“That’s the room my mother preferred. I thought you might like it more,” he murmured.
Something in the way his voice hitched melted the teasing right out of me. I finally turned, only to see him watching me in that same way he’d held my hand. Like he was afraid I’d vanish.
He was also gloriously, temptingly shirtless, the sharp lines of him accentuated to the extreme by the strain of the past few days. Solkar might have split the earth in two to create the crater, but this man must have been carved by a much more benevolent god.
“I do,” I said. Easier than admitting that what mattered most was that he’d considered what I would have liked back when I’d been nothing but the enemy to him.
I took a hesitant step forward. He reached out for me, but his hands lacked the urgency of before as they wrapped around my wrists, pulling me into him. His thumbs lingered on my pulse, trying to sear its rhythm into him.
He rested his forehead against mine once more, another sigh caving his shoulders.
I pressed my nose against his, nuzzling it, as our breaths mingled. Such a simple, familiar gesture, but it felt momentous.
The heat which had been stirring inside of me when we’d stepped inside his room softened into something richer and more rare, flowing through me like honey.
Comfort.
We both needed peace, not passion tonight.
It was a strange sensation, my mind quieting down not because the issue pressing it had vanished, but because I knew I wouldn’t have to face and resolve it alone.
“I missed you,” he murmured. “Strange, because we’d only been apart less than two days. But I missed you.”
“You know what’s even stranger?” Honestly, it was. “I did, too.”
He gave a low, satisfied murmur. “The big, bad Huntress missed me, did she?”
“The same way the cold Commander did–and admitted it first.”
He chuckled and brought my hand to his lips, kissing my wrist. “May that fire in you never die.”
“I hope so,” I whispered. What I’d wanted to say was how I hoped he’d never have a hand in putting it out.
A shiver raced down my spine at the simple thought of it. One more betrayal would have surely turned the shards of my heart into steel, once and for all.
“Let’s get you into that warm bath,” he said.
