Dragons Against Them (Kingdoms of Fire and Ice #2)(53)

“Did ye love him?” he asked.

At that she did lean away. “What?”

“Your lover. Did ye love him?”

If Rosalind had been able to swim, she would have done so without answering. Why did he care that Quinn had ripped her heart in two a short while ago? The matter concerned him not. Yet he refused to release her from his gaze.

“I ask ye again— did ye love him?”

She looked away, wishing to God she wasn’t so afraid of the water. “Aye. I had been searching for your clan for weeks, fueled by the vision of what life could be like for Quinn and me together once I had claimed Edana’s throne.”

“Ye believed a rise in power necessary to win his love?”

“No, I sought power to afford me the freedom to love whomever I chose.”

“And now?”

The image of Quinn, his face so eager while sitting beside Adelaide a short while ago, flashed before her. What would she do now? Remain in Weston, an outcast from Forath and forever hiding from her father and brother? Or return to the castle and sit obediently at her father’s side while doing needlepoint and reciting ridiculous poems and songs? Neither appealed to her, and tears welled once more in her eyes at the bleakness of both futures.

“I do not know,” she whispered.

“Rosa.”

She looked at him in surprise. Never had a man called her that before. And yet, upon his lips, the word was like a gentle caress.

“Do ye not see the gift that was bestowed upon ye this night? In one act of betrayal, your freedom has been granted. No longer do ye require either bloodshed or a crown to fall in love with whomever ye choose.”

“I hardly consider my heart being torn in two a gift.”

“Perhaps not tonight, but ye will come to realize it as such.”

She scowled at him. “How can you be so sure of this?”

“Because ye were not meant to be this man’s mate.”

“Oh? And just whose mate am I meant to be, then, as clearly it was not Prince Zayne either?”

“Lie back into the water. Only when your soul is cleansed will ye find the answer.”

His riddlesome answers brought additional ire, but as he seemed unlikely to return her to shore until she did as he asked, Rosalind resigned herself to comply. She loosened her arms from his neck and felt his hands shift beneath her. The river’s lethargic current beckoned her to follow, to let go. Holding his gaze, she drew her hands free of him and leaned back, her legs still wrapped tight around his waist. Jaxon moved one hand to the small of her back, the other beneath her shoulder blades. The water brushed at her sides.

“I have done as you asked. Now return me to shore.”

“Close your eyes.”

She lifted her head. A strain, her hair heavy with water. “Are you mad?”

“Close your eyes, lass.”

With a huff, she lay back once more, his hands warm beneath her in the cool water. She allowed her eyelids to slide shut and focused on his touch and the strength that could be found there. The water drifted by all around her, tugging at her hair, her arms, her very soul.

Anger. Her world had been consumed by anger from the moment her mother grew ill and soon thereafter died. Anger at the unfairness of it all. Anger at her father, unable to console her as he succumbed to his own grief. Anger at her brother, who seemed all too eager to comfort her when it was her mother she wanted most of all. Anger at Quinn for his act of betrayal this night.

As the admissions came to mind, the water washed them away, cleansing her heart of them one by one. Its current comforted and soothed. And when at last all thoughts of anger had drifted from her mind, the hands on her back seemed to warm. Their touch stirred an energy within as she had never experienced before.

The prince of witches had been right. Anger and hatred had kept her locked in discontent and clinging to a mate she wasn’t meant to have, never learning to trust. But now, her heart opened to a new possibility, responded to another’s touch.

“Jaxon,” she breathed, her voice sounding far off as if in a dream.

“Do ye sense it, Princess? The unspoken connection between us which commands we take notice when the other is near?”

The hand at the small of her back slid around her waist to rest upon her stomach, leaving a trail of fire in its wake.

“Tell me, Rosa. Tell me you sense it too.”

A shiver rippled through her as the fire in his touch intensified, and her legs weakened their grip on his waist. Jaxon lowered himself farther into the water, bringing her hips to his shoulders. He nudged the V of her legs with his chin, the wet fabric of her gown doing little to dull the touch. Rosalind sucked in a sharp breath but dared not move lest she tumble from his grasp and into the water’s murky depths.

The hand on her stomach slid down along her hips and rested upon her inner thigh. With a gentle pull, he shifted her leg aside and nudged her core with his nose. “Tell me.”

“Yes.”

“Fate has finally brought ye to me, Princess. For I am your one true mate, and ye are mine.”

She writhed in his grasp, his breath warm on her most private place. “Show me.”

He nipped and nudged along her mound, her thighs, driving her to madness with want.

“Please, Jaxon.” She lifted her head. “I need you.”

His gaze glowed a deep russet as he tugged her leggings free and then drew her body closer to his. “Mine.”