Breathing fast, he cradled her as they gasped through the aftershocks.
“Too much?” he murmured into her neck.
She hummed in contentment. “I think you’ve killed me,” she mumbled and felt his smile against her hair.
He squeezed her against the protective warmth of his chest for a long moment before reluctantly withdrawing to wipe her clean.
When he returned and gathered her close, it was with lingering incredulity and a certainty of possession that she hadn’t felt in him before. “Thank you.”
She trailed a finger down the long blade of his nose. “Are you burden-free now?”
“One more,” he said gravely.
She propped herself up on her elbows, eyes widening as he recounted the nature of what he’d begun seeing after returning from the dead and the bargain he’d made with Wrath. Fire crackled in the hearth, night claiming the sky by the time he finished.
“And you feel well?” she fretted. “Telmar said something about recipients of Wrath’s strength going mad. You looked quite ill after your bout at the Aequitas.”
“I feel no different.” He slanted her a droll look. “The madness might take a moment to discern.”
He wouldn’t joke if he was feeling poorly. “I always did see you as one of the Wretched,” she admitted, laughing when he dryly raised an eyebrow.
His lips ghosted down the column of her neck, eliciting a shiver from her sensitized skin. “I have given you everything. The rest is all detail.”
She traced the length of his spine. “Like how your father repeatedly broke your back. Was it healed poorly on purpose?”
“No child of the Clan should fear pain. We got to know it intimately.”
What anunfathomable levelof cruelty.“How does your back feel now?”
“Like I can do more.” His eyes made a meaningful sweep of her flushed body. “Seductress.”
She turned red. “Well, I couldn’t have you keep believing that I’d leave!”
He traced her chin with a rough finger, dulcet voice going guttural. “I adore you. Language itself is inadequate. I’m no wordsmith beforethis, my Sarai.” He brought her hand to his still-rapid pulse, stern features raw and undone.
“I’d say you are.” She nuzzled his stubbled cheek. She’d thought him deeply private and perhaps too jaded to speak of love, but he was simply unused to it. He had never known it growing up and was still learning to utter it, let alone believe himself a recipient.
“I believe I was born around midwinter,” he murmured after a moment. “Clevsin didn’t place value in birthdates. There was nothing I was particularly good at or enjoyed as much as bloodshed. I became a Tetrarch to prevent the rise of those like the Clan. It was a practical application of my talents. Fully-fledged criminality never interested me.”
He said it with utter detachment, as though guilt had played no part in the decision when this was the same man who had tried to end his life for leaving her the night of the Fall.How much have you buried without knowing it?
“I think I’ve been seeing portions of your life.” She blinked when he looked unsurprised. “You knew?”
He smiled. “I guessed.”
“It’s the god looming over the country, isn’t it?” She sighed. “Like northerners killing with whitesleep and my having the urge to slit everyone’s throat at the Aequitas earlier. Whoever this is, they aren’t benign.”
“Hmm.” He brushed a kiss against her jaw.
She loved seeing him so languorous, menace quieted, tanned skin backlit by fire. A predator at rest. “I’m dreading leaving this room.” And thinking of coups and gods and men who used their voices for ill.
Kadra drew his knuckles down her throat. “The land may fall, but I will lift you above it. Ruin and Death will lay no claim on you while my hold persists. I may become a most exacting member of the Wretched upon death, and you will still bemine.” Strength pulsed off him in waves. “Do you understand?”
Mesmerized, she nodded.
“Keep looking at me like that, and I’ll take you again,” he murmured.
“Really?” she asked hopefully.
