Silence stretched between them, thick with all the things shehadn’tsaid. Not in more than fifty years since he’d brought her to this place.
He rose—towering, barefoot—loose black linen pants and his rumpled undershirt the only things soft about him in this moment. The rest of him felt brittle, like a shard of something left untended to scrape against the soft underbelly of the world. Perhaps he should have smoothed the edges. He didn’t want to hurt her. Not more than he already had.
But tonight, he wanted her to feel that scrape.
To see those edges and know the price of them.
He reached for her.
No permission. No asking.
And without hesitation, she approached.
His hands landed on her hips and pulled her close, mouth finding hers in a kiss that wasn’t gentle, patient, or restrained. Fingers threaded into the hair at her nape. His tongue was desperate, hard, claiming, anchoring his actions in fury and fear and love so vast it terrified them both.
She gripped his arms to steady herself as he devoured her sigh, as he swept across hers with the heat of the resentment still hissing beneath the surface of his self-control.He growled against her lips as he pulled away, panting, bleeding pain against her mouth like a wounded beast.
“You shouldneverhave kept any of this from me.”
“Youworry—”
“Iworrywhen I know nothing.”
His teeth grazed her lower lip before he deepened the kiss again, one hand sliding up her back, pressing her closer until every line of her body fit to his.
“I need to feel you…” He broke the kiss only to murmur the words against her. “I need to know you’re stillmine.”
“Always yours...” she gasped. Her voice cracked with truth. She shivered when his hand cupped her jaw and tilted her back for another kiss.
Hotter.
Darker.
The fire roared between them. The Bond rose like a tide, ancient and aching and demanding.
And somewhere between his lips and her breath, Auryn prayed he would forgive her.
7
The Arm's Decree
The corridor was quiet, save for the occasional echo of distant footsteps from higher tiers. Lu’ma lingered near Her Radiance’s door, fingers curled at her sides. She would keep watch. Ensure no one disturbed them. Stone and silence filled the space, lit by only a single flickering Polis-lantern that caught her shadow and stretched it wide across the floor.
Lu’ma didn’t pace. That would draw attention. Instead, she stood still; hands clasped before her in quiet watchfulness. The Resh’Agar and his Sokâr had much to discuss after everything Lu’ma had revealed.
Reflection: Being truthful with His Quintessence was essential to protecting the Host.
Training of the Hands does not allow lies.
Reminder: Choir Mother's orders allow lies in circumstance of need. Her Radiance requires protection This Nameless cannot give.
Lying to Her Radiance was justified to counter mental distress.
Giving the truth to His Quintessence was required to ensure Her Radiance's protection.
Concern: Can His Quintessence be trusted to protect Her Radiance? The Void must be impartial.
She’d heard the undertones in his voice when His Quintessence had dismissed her.
