Rise of Fire (Reign of Shadows #2)(49)

She fell to silence again. She was thinking, stewing. She took a shuddery breath and finally spoke. “I have to confess something.”

Unease gripped my chest. “What?”

“I never intended to stay here.” She stopped and took a deep breath. “Well, I never considered it for longer than a moment or two.”

My chest loosened. “Oh. Then why are we arguing—”

“I was planning to escape . . . except without you.”

Without you.

I stared at her for a moment, still holding her face even as she uttered those words that stabbed my heart. She was going to escape without me. Again. Damn it all. I suppose I should be used to her pushing me away at this point, but it would never feel good. I would never be immune to it.

A bleak kind of fury burned through me. I dropped my hands from her face and all that velvet skin, practically flinging her from me.

“Again?” I accused.

She nodded. “I knew if you stayed and married the princess, Relhok would be assured some kind of ruler that was just and good.”

“You think that would be assured? Ha! Marrying Maris doesn’t change the fact that my father still sits on the throne.”

“But not forever,” she argued.

I shook my head. “Assuming my bastard father dies tomorrow, Tebald would then reign over both kingdoms. After him, it would be his son. And as far as I can tell, Chasan is every bit as ruthless as his sire.”

She paled. Clearly, she hadn’t thought this through enough. Doubt crossed her expressive face. “I just thought that with you here your influence would do some good.” Her voice faded. Her chin shot up, fire in her cheeks. “You’re right. I was wrong.”

The tension in my shoulders ebbed. Finally, she was starting to see things my way.

Then, she added, “But Cullan still has to be stopped.”

“We can escape together and forget about all of this. We’ll build a life in Allu. You and me.” It was strange to think that weeks ago I had only ever wanted to be alone, but now I couldn’t imagine life without her in it.

She dropped her head, hiding her face so that I couldn’t see her clearly.

“Luna,” I whispered. She made me crazy and reckless. I reached for her, closed my fingers around her arms, and pulled her to me. As though I could somehow absorb her into myself . . . remind her what it was like between us. Remind myself. The reality of what it felt like to hold her in my arms had dimmed.

She faced me, her expression set into something grim. “I’ll escape with you, but I’m going to Relhok. With or without you.”

I kissed her, drinking in her sigh rather than arguing with her anymore. Maybe a part of me hoped to influence her, seduce her, get her to say she would go anywhere with me, but I had forgotten what kissing her was like. The first brush of her lips seduced me.

Pulling back, I held her face, skimming her features, engraving them into my soul. I waited, giving her time to pull away if that was what she really wanted.

She didn’t pull back. Her fingers circled my wrists, tugging me back to her, so I kissed her again, drove my fingers into her shorn hair, curving my palms around her skull. Her pulse bled into me through the connection of our mouths, the rhythm passing through my palms.

I had ceased all thinking and let sensation take over. The back of my neck pulled tight, goose bumps breaking out over my skin and chasing all the way down my body. A heavy tightness pooled low in my spine as we backed up together. I didn’t look up. All my focus was on her mouth. Her scent. The callused pads on her small palms. I vaguely registered a slight bump as we reached the bed.

Then we were on the bed, and all the desperation, all the near scrapes spiraled into this need for each other. We had overcome every impossibility and were still alive and still together. Maybe it couldn’t last, maybe it wouldn’t, but for now we had this.

Solitude. Hands. Mouths. Warm lantern light gilded her skin as I peeled the edge of her nightgown down to reveal a smooth shoulder. She sighed at my mouth skimming her skin, and then her hands were in my hair, her nails lightly scraping through strands and reaching my scalp, sending shivers up and down my neck.

I inched back slightly, just to look at her, to see her beneath me. Her features so soft, her pale skin flushed pink over the smatter of freckles. I was breathing hard as she brought her fingers to my lips, touching, tracing the shape. I kissed each one; her palm, her wrist, the back of her knuckles.

“Luna, how do you taste like this?” I breathed against her skin, my tongue licking, savoring her flesh.

She sighed in response, and I brought my mouth to hers again, kissing her harder. Her lips slanted against mine hotly, searing me. She knew how to kiss, how to affect me. Our breaths crashed and collided. Her hands moved faster, skimming my arms, my back, dipping lower.

My heart hammered like a wild bird in my chest. Everything felt new. With Luna it was love. It spiked my need, made everything more desperate, more feverish. She thought she didn’t need this. Need me.

Everything flew faster then. Hushed words, groping hands, dragging mouths. I tried to hold back, thinking I was too rough, moving too fast, but she nipped at my lips with a growl and then all was lost. I was lost.

There was nothing but sliding skin and smell and taste. The sound of my name on her lips. Her nails scoring my flesh. Her warm breath in my ear.

I buried my hands in her hair, massaging her scalp, holding her to me and kissing her until my lips grew bruised and swollen. I pulled back, watching her, not missing the dark heat in her eyes. Her fingers dug into my shoulders and my name rasped on her lips in a way that lit a fire in my gut.