Page 62

He’d spent the night at Windhaven again yesterday. And—he did the mental math. Until a few minutes ago, he hadn’t seen her for three days, not since that conversation in the hallway downstairs. It ripped him apart to realize it, set the primal, mated male within him roaring.

Only the Mother knew what had happened to make Nesta even more agitated. He certainly didn’t.

It was concerning enough that he asked as casually as he could, “What’s up, Nes?”

His mate flung open the armoire doors and surveyed the array of gowns. “Nothing.”

“Liar.”

She didn’t respond as she untied her silk robe and let it fall to the ground.

His mouth dried out at her naked body on full display. The lines of her back, the curve of her ass, the hint of those lush breasts he could barely glimpse at this angle. The tattoo of the eight-pointed star that had graced her spine for so many months was gone, leaving only glowing flesh that his fingers practically ached to stroke. His cock tightened, and he shifted his stance.

Gods, she was beautiful. And Eris, the bastard, was right: some days, he honestly couldn’t figure out why the Mother had deemed him deserving of such a mate. Not merely her physical beauty, but the spirit inside . . .

Even if that spirit had made some dumb fucking choices lately.

The thought doused any building desire, replacing it with a heaviness in his chest that had grown too familiar. So Cassian returned to his own reflection while she donned her gown. If she didn’t want to talk, fine. They could co-exist in miserable silence.

Only when skirts rustled did he turn to find her approaching in a twilight-gray silk gown a shade darker than her robe, cut low enough to put her breasts on display to devastating effect. Maybe they should go to the temple more often, if this was what passed for pious attire these days.

He clenched his jaw. Perhaps the desire wasn’t entirely doused. Before, he would have had no problem walking right up to her, sliding his arms around her waist, and exploring that bare, creamy expanse of neck and breasts. Nuzzling into that velvety skin, tasting every inch of it. Now he hesitated.

He lifted his eyes to hers and found something simmering there—there, and gone in a blink.

He crossed his arms. “So we’re not talking about anything now?”

She crossed her arms as well. “What’s there to talk about?”

“Something’s happened in the past few days—I can see it written all over you.”

“Nothing happened. Not that you’ve bothered to be around much anyway.” She yanked open a drawer on her vanity hard enough that the jewelry within rattled. Jewelry Rhys had heaped upon her for saving his mate and child. She selected a necklace made of a single flexible line of small square-cut diamonds, delicate and glittering and made to draw the eye to that long, lickable neck.

Fitting it to her throat, she lifted her arms to latch it—and couldn’t get it to catch.

He certainly wasn’t going to help her. Her nostrils flared, sensing that.

“I do have a position within this court that requires my time, you know,” he said tightly.

“Day and night, apparently.” She breezed over to him, smooth as a panther, and got right up in his face before she said with saccharine sweetness, “Move, General.”

Cassian gave her an exaggerated bow, wings folding elegantly as he made space before the mirror. She half turned, puzzling out the clasp, those pale fingers fumbling. Her eyes narrowed into slits of annoyance as she tried again.

“Talk to me,” he pleaded. “Why are you even more pissed off at me today?”

She rotated the necklace to figure out the clasp from the front. “There’s more I should be mad about? You mean, beyond the fact that you shut me out completely these weeks so you could sulk? Or how when you do speak to me, you pretend everything is fine—until it isn’t and you shut me out again? Or how you won’t even touch me for sheer disgust?” She pointed to the bed. “It’s been weeks. You haven’t reached for me once.”

“You want me to touch you?” His voice had dropped an octave, even as a corner of his mouth kicked up.

She snorted. “Not at the moment, no.” She gave up on the necklace and made to tear it off, but Cassian moved faster.

“Allow me,” he drawled, grabbing the necklace and laying it gently along her throat and chest. His fingers grazed the warm skin at her nape.

His cock tightened again at that touch. At the way she went utterly still, sucking in a small breath. He leaned in slightly, unable to help his deep inhale of her scent. “Do you miss this? Is this what you’ve been waiting up for these past few days?” As he’d wished to moments ago, he trailed his fingers down the column of her spine, light as a feather.

Arousal washed over her scent. But the witch said, “No.”

“Hmm,” he murmured, making quick work of fastening the clasp. His fingers lingered at the base of her neck, withdrawing only as he leaned down to brush his nose over the same spot. Gods, she smelled incredible. “What about this?” His words were a hot push against her skin. “Have you been missing this?”