The Midnight Star (The Young Elites #3)(21)

Magiano watches me as I take in the sight. He turns in the small secret chamber, gesturing along the walls to where the plants have started to grow. “Amazing, isn’t it,” he says, “how quickly life finds a place for itself when no one is around to keep it out?”

I stare in wonder at the moss’s faint glow. “What is this?” I ask, reaching a hand out to the blue-green vegetation. It feels as velvet as the finest fur.

“Faery moss,” Magiano replies, admiring the view along with me. “It thrives in damp caves in Merroutas too. Once it finds a good slit on the wall where it can seed, it spreads everywhere. They’ll have their work cut out for them once they fix the archway and reopen this chamber.” He grins. “Let’s hope it takes them a long time.”

I smile. The glow adds a hue of blue to the edge of Magiano’s skin, softening his features. He drips water. I draw closer to him, suddenly bolder. “I suppose you come in here often, then,” I say, half teasing. “Bringing your maids and admirers?”

Magiano frowns at that. He shakes his head. “You think I’m bedding every maid I speak to?” he says and shrugs. “Flattered, Your Majesty. But you are very wrong.”

“So, what you’re telling me is that you come to this secret space alone?”

He tilts his head in a flirtatious way. “What’s wrong with a thief wanting a little private time now and then?” He comes closer. His breath warms my skin like the fog that hovers over the water. “Of course, here you are. I suppose I’m not alone, after all.”

A blush rises on my cheeks as I become very aware of my bare skin, both above and below the water. My energy stills, as it tends to around him, and I find myself aching for his touch. He leans down so that his lips are just a breath away from my own, and there we hover, suspended in time.

“Do you still remember the fire? Under the stars?” he asks, suddenly shy, and I feel innocent for the first time in a long while.

“I remember what we were doing,” I reply with a small smile.

A laugh escapes his lips. Then his expression turns serious. “You asked me whether or not I miss my old life,” he whispers, his voice now hoarse. “Do you know what I miss the most? That night.”

My heart skips a beat, aching in sudden sadness. “And what about the girl you once sat beside, on that night? Do you miss her too?”

“She is still here,” he answers. “That is why I stay.”

Then he closes the distance between us, and his lips touch mine. Around us is nothing but the sound of water lapping gently against overgrown stone and the faint glow from the moss. His hand trails along my bare back, tracing the curve of my spine. He pulls me close so that our chests are pressed together. His kiss goes from my lips to my chin, and there he plants them lower and lower, creating a gentle path along my neck. I sigh, wanting nothing more in this moment than us, content with staying here forever. The tether tying me to Enzo fades in my mind, and for an instant I can forget that we are linked at all. Magiano’s hands run down my back, unwilling to let go. My breaths come in ragged gasps. Gradually, I notice that we have made our way to the edge of the pool, where he presses me tightly against the stone. One of his hands tangles in my hair, drawing me forward to him. His kisses return to my lips, more urgent now, and I fall into them eagerly. A low groan rumbles in his throat. I wonder, for a wild second, if he will take us further, and my heart pounds in my chest.

“Your Majesty,” he whispers, breathless. A note of amusement creeps into his voice. “You’ll ruin me.” Then he pulls me to him, so that every inch of our bodies is pressed together. I lean against him, soaking in the luxury of the warm water. I don’t want to ask him what he’s thinking.

A faint voice rings out, muffled, from the other side of our hidden space. I ignore it as Magiano drowns me in another kiss. Through the haze of my thoughts, the voice comes floating over again.

“Your Majesty? Your Majesty!”

Water ripples against our bodies.

“Your Majesty,” the voice continues, drawing nearer. Now I recognize it as one of the stewards who deliver my messages. “There is an urgent letter for you.”

“She’s not here,” another voice complains. “The bathhouse is empty.” The voice sighs. “She’s probably off slitting some poor fool’s throat.”

The words break me out of my haze. I push away from Magiano right as his eyes open again. He glances toward the collapsed entrance too, then shoots me a questioning glance. I straighten and give him a smile, unwilling to show him that the servant’s remark has bothered me. Instead, I exhale and try to bring down the flush in my cheeks.

“You’d better go,” Magiano whispers, his words echoing in the space. He nods toward the collapsed archway. “Far be it from me to interrupt something urgent.”

“Magiano, I . . . ,” I start to say. But the rest of the words don’t want to come out, and I stop trying to force them. I take a deep breath before ducking under the warm water and swimming through the space that leads back out into the main bath hall.

I break through the surface with a loud splash. A yelp of surprise comes from somewhere in the chamber. As I wipe water away from my face, I see two messengers standing at the edge of the bath, their eyes wide, their fear hovering over them.

“Yes?” I say coolly, raising my brow at them.