Radiance (Wraith Kings Book 1)(59)
Brishen’s back snapped straight, and his eyes paled. Her fingers went briefly numb at the sudden grip he closed on her hand. His lips flattened against his teeth; nostrils flared, and the skin drew tight across his cheekbones. He said nothing, but Ildiko suddenly found herself jogging to keep up as he pulled her across the hall toward the stairwell leading to Saggara’s private wing.
“Brishen, wait.” she whispered, caught between panic and laughter. The weight of several curious gazes rested on her shoulders, no doubt wondering why the Herceges of Saggara suddenly decided to whisk his wife out of the hall.
She stumbled into him when he halted abruptly and turned. He caught her in his arms and helped her regain her balance. His eyes still glowed white-hot, and his breathing paced shallow from his nostrils. His voice, by contrast, was cool and uninflected. “Are you trying to kill me, Ildiko?”
Were they not standing in the middle of the hall with a crowd of people watching, she’d twine her arms around his neck and kiss him senseless. Brishen’s parted lips revealed the tips of his fangs. Carefully senseless, she corrected.
She settled for squeezing his hand and offering an apologetic smile. “Killing you is the farthest thing from my mind, and were we alone, I’d race you to the stairs.” His claws were dark against her knuckles, lethal as spear points knapped from obsidian. “But we aren’t alone, and we are the hosts. We’re obligated to stay.”
Torchlight caught his eyes in a different pattern as his gaze flickered from her face to the crowd behind her and back again. “And who will stop us if we leave?”
No one would. In Haradis, Brishen was the unessential spare prince. At Saggara, he was king and subject to no one. Still, Ildiko didn’t relish the gossip such an act would incite. She traced the line of his knuckles with her free hand.
“I don’t regret my words, only their timing,” she said. “Dawn isn’t far off. Dance with me until then, and you can bid your guests good riddance.”
His lids closed for a moment, black lashes thick against his cheeks. When he opened them again, his eyes were once more their lamplight yellow. “As you wish, but it will be another day of no sleep, wife,” he warned in a voice no longer cool but sensual. He kissed her hand for a second time, leaving a damp line as his tongue stroked across her fingers.
Ildiko gasped, her knees going weak at the caress. She exhaled a shuddering breath. “I’ll hold you to that promise, husband.”
He claimed her for the rest of the night, either dancing with her or keeping her by his side when others drew him away to discuss the various issues of the townships and villages under Saggara’s guardianship.
Night gave way to day, and the wine flowed fast and generous. Servants escorted some of the more inebriated guests to spare rooms prepared in a ground floor wing near the kitchens. Brishen offered Serovek one of the chambers on the second floor, along the same hallways as his and Ildiko’s chambers.
Serovek refused and slapped Brishen on the back. His dark eyes were glassy with drink, but he remained steady on his feet, and Ildiko suspected anyone foolish enough to think him vulnerable to attack would find themselves suffering or dead for making such a mistake.
“A generous offer, my friend, but I’m for home.” He smiled, and Ildiko was once again struck by the beauty of his features. “And unlike you Kai, I enjoy the feel of the sun on my face when I ride.” He gestured toward Anhuset who stood among her compatriots, tugging ceaselessly at her finery and scowling. “I will, however, accept an escort to your gate.”
The Kai might not be able to read human expression any better than Ildiko could read theirs, but Serovek’s interest in Anhuset was plain to her. He caught her knowing look and winked in return. Brishen stiffened beside her.
Thanks for Saggara’s hospitality, wishes for a safe journey and promises of mutual aid if needed were exchanged before Serovek and his party left, escorted by a sour-faced Anhuset sporting a tell-tale dusting of color on her high cheekbones.
They watched him leave. Brishen slowly pivoted to survey his nearly empty hall. The sun-flare returned to his eyes when he settled his stare on Ildiko. Her breath caught in her throat. “And now I can say good riddance.”
This time it was she who yanked him to the stairs and raced down the corridor. His door banged open against the wall and just as quickly slammed back on its frame. Brishen slid the bolt home and turned in time for Ildiko to shove him against its expanse.
She was desperate to touch him, feel the solid strength of muscle beneath her hands, the smooth expanse of gray skin. The fire that had smoldered inside her since his aborted attempt to seduce her before they went downstairs to greet their guests flared to an inferno. She caught his braid in one hand and used it to pull his head down to her.
The gleam of fangs didn’t deter her from kissing him—hard. He groaned and offered his tongue. She took him deep, tasting sweet wine and the honey harvested from the wild hives built in the bramble-strangled orange grove.
Brishen hoisted her in his arms, hands cupping her buttocks. His breath sounded harsh in her ear as she nibbled his neck and caught his earlobe in between her teeth. Another groan was her reward. “So eager, wife?” he said between pants.
“How can you tell?” she whispered to the sweet space behind his ear. She rocked against him, seeking the erection that proclaimed his desire for her was as great as hers for him. His fingers flexed, claws piercing layers of cloth. Ildiko gasped from the pleasure-pain.