Lord of Embers(The Demon Queen Trials #2)(33)

She stared up at me, her eyes wide. “Oh, dear. Are you jealous?”

She was toying with me, of course.

“I’m going inside. You’ll freeze if you stay out here.” I started walking, and I heard her follow me. We were close to the cottage now, a crooked little place made of stone and covered in snowy ivy.

“Why do you care if I’m freezing?” she asked. “Since you hate me.”

She could see right through me, which was annoying. “I need to make sure you don’t freeze to death before you tell me how to kill Cambriel.”

This was a bad idea, but I was already pushing through the door into the little cabin. It didn’t look like anyone had been here in a while, but it had the potential to be cozy. A fireplace in the hearth stood empty, and I crossed over to it. A pile of logs stood next to the fireplace, and I started sliding them in, one by one, arranging kindling on the bottom. A curled metal fire-striker lay on the floor, along with paper and flint. Vaguely, I remembered these little tools from my childhood, and I struck the metal against the flint until it sparked, igniting the paper. I dropped the flaming paper onto the logs and watched the flames spread.

It gave me a chance to clear my head and remind myself not to let this woman give me hope again. I pushed one of the logs with an iron poker, watching the flames rise. There was something deeply satisfying about lighting a fire in the dead of winter.

With the fire burning, I surveyed the rest of the cottage, a single room with a little wooden stairwell leading to a loft. A low bench sat across from the fireplace, and a black bearskin rug covered the floor.

Mentally, I’d stabilized myself once more.

But when I looked up at Rowan, washed in the golden light of the flames, I could hardly think straight.

The magic of the forest had muddled my thoughts, I told myself, reviewing all the reasons I shouldn’t touch her.

I rose from a crouch, trying to read something in her eyes. Was she going to attempt to break my spirit again?

I looked down at her, fighting the urge to kiss her.

Her eyebrows climbed. “So why lie to me? Why tell me that I bore you?”

“To keep you away from me, because I don’t trust myself to resist you.”

I leaned down, breathing in her scent. Her neck arched, F u ck.

inviting me. “The thing is, Rowan. I know how much you want me, too.

It’s part of being an incubus. I can practically taste your arousal. You drive me mad, but I know I do the same to you.”

Her cheek brushed against mine, the soft feel of her skin driving me wild. I pulled back, staring into her eyes, drunk on her beauty.

Moonlight gleamed off her dark irises. “Even if that were the case, incubus, what are you going to do about it?”

“I plan to ruin you with a kiss.”

The little smile on her lips was a dare, an invitation. I sensed her need, desire rippling from her body. Her allure was a command I had to obey.

She dropped her backpack on the floor. “What exactly does that mean,

?”

ru in me w ith a kiss

I trailed a finger over her throat, watching her body react. “I’m the last incubus in the world. After me, no one else could ever compare.

You’ll be ruined forever, love.”





C H A P T E R 1 8 — R O W A N

Damn it.I moved nearer, inviting his touch.

He knew exactly how to turn me on, with a look, with that intense expression, with a murmur of his deep, caressing voice.

Sliding his hands around me, he pulled me closer.

I had a sudden impulse to be at his level and stepped onto the low bench, putting myself at his height. He gave me a knowing smile, a lock of silver hair falling before his eyes.

“Ruin me?” I tried to play it cool, but my voice sounded husky. I pushed him, which was childish, but this forest had made me irrational.

“The arrogance is truly breathtaking. I really should have listened the first time you told me what a terrible person you are.”

The sultry look in his eyes made my pulse race as his gaze swept slowly down my body. Every inch of my skin heated with desire, aching for his touch.

I needed to put an end to this. Of nothing could happen

cou rse

between us. After all, I needed to take the crown from him. He was my rival. And maybe he really

uin me.

w ou ld r

“I think you’re a terrible person,” I said.

“We have that in common,” he murmured.

“You don’t deserve to be king.” I reached for the collar of his coat, pulling it down over his shoulders with a rough tug. The garment dropped to the bearskin rug. “And you don’t deserve these luxurious clothes.”

“Are you trying to strip me, love? Go on, then. You’re right. I don’t deserve to be king.” A sensual curve tugged at the corner of his lips. His mouth was an inch from mine now, his expression smoldering. “And yet, I’m going to be king anyway, and there’s fuck all you can do about it.”

Under his coat, he wore a buttoned shirt—ripped a little by the knife blade. I started popping the buttons open, one at a time. “You don’t deserve the crown. You should still be living in filth in your dungeon.” I pulled his shirt off and stared at perfection. His golden body practically glowed in the firelight. My gaze slid over his thickly corded arms, his divine abs.