War (The Four Horsemen, #2)(28)

“You could die.”

“If you’re so confident God sent me to you, then surely you know He will spare me—or are you unsure after all?”

The horseman’s mouth curves up. “Challenging me will get you nowhere, wife.”

“Let me come.” So that I might kill all your loyal killers.

When he doesn’t respond, my gaze moves to his lips.

There are other ways of convincing the horseman …

Adrenaline spikes my bloodstream at just the thought. I know the horseman wants to kiss me. He wants that and undoubtedly more.

“Please,” I insist, trying again to coax the horseman with my words. “It’s only fitting that”—I hesitate over my next words—“your wife should be out there fighting alongside you.”

He scrutinizes me, but I swear he looks a touch convinced. His eyes drop to my lips, gazing at my mouth the same way I was gazing at his just moments ago.

Victory is within reach; all I have to do is— Before I can think twice about it, I wrap my hand around the back of War’s neck, my fingers brushing against that dark, wavy hair of his. I was sure it would feel coarse—like the rest of him—but it’s soft. So soft.

War’s eyes widen almost imperceptibly at my touch.

Standing up on my tiptoes, I press my lips to his. The kiss is over before it’s barely begun—I’m not even sure something this brief could be called a kiss. Nonetheless, the horseman looks thunderstruck from it. Thunderstruck and hungry.

My hand slides from his neck and my heels touch the ground. “You’ll get another one if you agree to let me fight.”

War’s eyes are alight with want as he studies me. “I knew you were going to be trouble.” He looks away and runs a hand down his jaw. “This makes me twice as reluctant to let you go tomorrow. And yet …”

He turns back to me, a fierce edge to his features.

“Paruv Eziel ratowejiwa we, pei auwep ror.”

God’s hand protects you, but mine cannot.

My entire body shivers as the words pass through me, my knees weakening from the sound of them. The affect lingers for several seconds before dissipating away.

“What was that?” I say, rubbing my arm.

“Angelic—my native tongue.” He gives me an intense look. “Tomorrow I will not be able to shield you from battle. You will have to keep yourself safe.”

Holy crap, is he really going for this? Only minutes ago he seemed convinced I should stay out of the fray. Who would’ve known some cajoling and an itsy bitsy kiss could change all that carefully calculated consideration?

“So is that a yes?”

Instead of answering me, War reels me in, tilting my face up. Before I fully know what he’s doing, his mouth is back on mine.

His kiss isn’t anything like the one I gave him. I know it the moment our lips crash together. This kiss is raw desire, and it cuts me wide open. I haven’t been truly kissed in over a year, and even that experience pales to this one. War’s lips burn against mine as he crushes me to him.

My knees were already weak from his earlier words, but now they completely give out, and it’s his grip alone that keeps me standing.

The horseman smiles against my mouth, more than aware of his effect on me.

His need is sparking my own. I kiss him back—I don’t think I could do anything but kiss him back in this moment.

I’m going to pay for this later … but right now I don’t really give two shits. I’ve forgotten what self-control feels like.

War parts my lips with his own, and suddenly his tongue is pressing against mine. His body feels like sin, but he tastes like heaven.

My hands move back into that soft hair of his, and my core is on fire. If this is what his kiss does to me, I can’t imagine what everything else would feel like.

I don’t know who ends the kiss, but eventually our lips part.

I stagger out of War’s arms. Now I’m the one who’s gobsmacked. I stare at his mouth.

My God, I’ve never so badly wanted someone I disliked. But then again, here’s another side of War I’m only beginning to see—the reckless, passionate warlord.

War breathes heavily, that overwhelming body of his heaving with the action. I thought he might flash me one of his mocking smiles; he knows exactly what he did to me. Instead, he steps towards me, his expression determined, clearly ready to resume that kiss.

I take a halting step back. “I can’t.”

The correct response should’ve been no, but the truth is, I want to kiss the horseman back. It’s embarrassing how much I want that.

His gaze is fixed back on my lips.

“Why,” he says. It’s hardly a question.

I take a deep breath, beating back my lust. One day my vagina might stage a coup and overpower my brain—but that day won’t be today.

My eyes meet War’s. “Because tomorrow you’re still going to ride out with your army, and it’s going to break my heart.”





Chapter 12


We assemble before dawn.

It’s a quiet, somber thing. I’d like to think that the soldiers around me are just as pained at the thought of killing innocents as I am, but I don’t know.

I’m one of several hundred who’s given a horse. The rest of the army is heading in on foot—well except for the few men and women who are manning the giant carts they’ll bring into the city, carts that will eventually return to camp stacked with stolen goods.