Song of Blood & Stone (Earthsinger Chronicles #1)(74)

Yllis studies with the Cantors day and night. His guilt is an anchor around his neck. It pulls him away from me. I have not allowed him to answer for his part in the scheme to help Eero sing. And I have not agreed to marry him. How could I with things the way they are? I thought I was protecting him by accepting all the blame, but that and my repeated refusals of his offers have changed things between us.

The hurt in his eyes when he looks upon me cuts deep. So deep I do not believe I have a heart any longer. My heart was never my own. It belonged more to the ones I loved than to me.

War.

It drags us under.

It tears us apart.




Jack padded into Jasminda’s chamber well after midnight, glad to find her still awake. She sat by the fire, staring into the dancing flames. She startled as he drew near, before recognizing him, then her face transformed with joy.

“I’m sorry it’s so late,” he said, transferring her to his lap as he took her place on the chair. He rubbed circles into her back, noting the tightness in her muscles.

“It’s all right.” She collapsed against him. He exhaled the breath he’d been holding all day. His body relaxed, at home with her in his arms.

“How did it go?” Her voice was so small he strained to hear. “They voted to send them back, didn’t they?”

A great hollow space opened in his chest. He could not bear to affirm it aloud.

“What will happen to me?” Her voice was empty as an echo.

He shifted her on his lap so he could peer into her eyes. Misery suffused the beauty of her face. “Jasminda—”

“Half-breed. Mongrel. That’s what the papers say, right? I cannot stay here. And didn’t the True Father’s letter say every Lagrimari must be sent back?”

Jack’s lungs compressed as if he was at the peak of a mountain sucking in air too thin to quench his need. “You are not Lagrimari.”

“Am I not?” Her eyes were almost wild. “I may have been born in your land, share half your blood, but I’m not one of you. I’m not one of them, either. I don’t belong anywhere, Jack.”

“No,” he said, voice steely. “No, you belong with me.” He held her tighter, his chest vibrating with the racing of her heart.

“For how long? How long until you must find an acceptable princess? One that you need in order to regain the peoples’ trust? We were only ever going to be temporary.”

He crushed her to him and stroked her soft, springy hair. “Are you saying you want to leave?”

“No.”

“Then—”

“But I cannot stay.”

He shook his head rapidly, desperate to shake some solution into his brain. “If being prince is good for anything, then I should get to be with the woman I love.” He pulled away and clutched her hands to his chest. “Do you hear me? I love you.”

Saying it out loud took the edge off the panic building at the thought of her leaving. “You are strong and intelligent and fearless and beautiful. I had never even hoped a woman like you existed. I love you, Jasminda.”

Tears traced her face. “I love you, too. You must know that. You are my whole heart, Jaqros Alliaseen. My whole heart. I never thought I would—”

She looked away, and he wiped her streaming cheeks.

“You are a good man, a good prince.” She cupped his face in her hands and kissed him lightly. “You must be strong for your people.”

Sad eyes surveyed him, and though the exhilaration of her declarations of love thrummed in his veins, a warning bell rang deep in his heart.

She kissed him again, so gently it made him anxious. He did not deserve such tenderness. He deepened the kiss, grabbing hold of her waist and stroking her side. The tightness she’d held melted away as her arms came around his neck.

Jack lifted her and carried her to the bed. She kneeled on the mattress as he stood devouring her mouth with needy kisses. She slid her palms down his chest and began working on the buttons of his shirt. Her expertise at removing men’s clothing had grown, and she had the shirt hanging open and trousers pushed to his knees in record time.

As he was undoing the ties of her dress and sliding it over her head, a blade of awareness sliced into him. Jasminda was soft and pliable, her body receptive to his touch, but something was different. There was a distance present between them that had never been there before, even as she discarded her slip with a seductive smile and lay back, inviting him between her thighs.

Vowing to make this night, this lovemaking, more memorable than any other, he set upon her with a fervor, licking and stroking his way up her legs. He reached her core and lapped at her, stroking her entrance teasingly with his finger. She panted and cried out his name, begging for more, but he continued the foreplay, holding off giving her what she wanted. He brought her to the brink of climax, then eased her back down, ignoring her protests.

Satisfied when her limbs shook with need, he kissed his way up her belly. One hand glided to her breast, and with the other he plunged two fingers into her center, causing her to buck, her back arching as moans of pleasure escaped her. She was more than ready. All it took was a thumb flicked across the right spot and she went over, cresting the wave.

When her cries gentled, they kissed and she guided his erection into her. The indefinable sensation of sinking deep inside her was so much more than lust. The gentle rhythm of their lovemaking sped up to a pounding beat as he fought to chase away the nagging worry, guilt, and fear. She loved him. She would stand by him in this dark time.