I stopped breathing. My heart may have stopped beating.
The god.
Nothing about him seemed real. He stood there with the water pounding off the rocks behind him. More tiny bumps spread across my flesh as I stared at him in shock.
“Here I am,” he said. “Now, what?”
His question yanked me out of my stunned silence. “What are you doing here?”
Water stirred around him when he broke the surface and slicked back his hair, the spray lapping at the defined lines of his chest. I snapped my gaze to his face. He appeared to be studying me. “What does it look like?”
His blasé answer struck that reckless part of me. It didn’t matter that the pretend kiss in the vine tunnels had become very real, or that he hadn’t struck out at me when I stabbed him in the chest—something most would be furious about—or end up dead over. It didn’t matter that he was a powerful god that had continuously crept into my thoughts since I’d last seen him. He had been watching me when I’d been at my most vulnerable. “It looks like you shouldn’t be here.”
His head tilted slightly, and a lock of dark hair slipped over the hard line of his jaw. “And why would I not be allowed to?”
“Because it’s private property.” Why did I feel like we’d already established this?
“Is it?” Amusement crept into his tone. “I was unaware of any land prohibited to a god.”
“I imagine that there are many areas that would be off-limits to anyone, including a god.”
“What if I told you there aren’t?”
My stomach dipped. “I would be thoroughly irritated to learn that.”
A low chuckle rumbled from him. “So fearless.”
Common sense indicated that I should be experiencing some level of fear, but all I felt was anger. “None of that answers what you’re doing here.”
“I suppose it doesn’t.” He lifted an arm again, the one with the silver band, to brush back another strand of hair that had slipped against his jaw. “I was around, and since it was extremely warm, I thought I’d take a swim and cool off.”
Anger crowded out any tendrils of fear and potential wisdom. “And prey upon young women?”
“Prey upon young women?” There was a hint of incredulity in his tone. “What young women have I preyed upon this eve?”
“The one who is standing before you.”
“The one who is naked, standing before me?”
“Thank you for the unnecessary reminder. But, yes, the one you followed to the lake.”
“Followed?”
“Is there an echo here?” I demanded.
“I’m sorry—”
“You don’t sound sorry,” I snapped.
There was a soft, barely audible chuckle. “Let me rephrase. I don’t know how I followed you to this lake to prey upon you when I was here first. Trust me—”
“Not going to happen.”
A cloud slipped over the moon as his chin dropped again, casting his face in shadows. “Trust me when I say I was not expecting you to be here.”
In the back of my mind, where reason still existed, I knew he spoke the truth. I hadn’t been under the water long enough for even a god to undress, then enter the lake and the waterfall without me noticing. He must have been here first. But, frankly, I didn’t care.
This was my lake.
“I was minding my own business,” he said. “Taking a few moments to enjoy this beautiful night.”
“In a lake you do not belong in,” I muttered, not caring if no place was truly off-limits to a god.
“I swam underwater and ended up beyond the waterfall. It’s quite beautiful there, by the way,” he continued unrepentantly. “Can you, for one moment, imagine my surprise when a few seconds later, a young, very demanding mortal appeared out of the darkness and started removing her clothing? What was I supposed to do?”
Fire swept across my face. “Not watch me?”
“I wasn’t.” A pause. “At least, not intentionally.”
“Not intentionally?” I repeated in disbelief. “As if that makes it less inappropriate.”
That half-grin appeared again. “You do have a point there, but as it was unintentional, I would wager to say it is far less inappropriate than it would have been if it had been intentional.”
“No.” I shook my head. “No, it is not.”
“Anyway,” he stressed the word with such a highbrow air, my mother would’ve been impressed. “I was quite shocked, as this was not what I had been expecting.”
“Shocked or not, you could’ve announced yourself.” I couldn’t believe I had to explain this. “I don’t know what would be expected in Iliseeum, but here, that would’ve been the polite, less inappropriate thing to do.”
“True, but it all happened very fast. From the point of your arrival and, sadly, brief reveal of many, many unmentionable places, to when you decided to enjoy the lake. It was only a matter of seconds,” he said. “But I’m glad we’re now in agreement over my actions being less inappropriate. I will sleep better tonight.”
“What? We are not in agreement. I—” Wait. Sadly brief reveal of unmentionable places? My eyes narrowed. “You still could’ve said something so I wasn’t just standing there—”
“Like a goddess made of silver and moonbeams, rising from the depths of the darkest lake?” he finished.
I snapped my mouth shut. Like a…a goddess? Made of silver and moonbeams? That sounded incredibly… I didn’t even know what that sounded like or why my stomach was whooshing again. What he said was ridiculous because he knew actual goddesses.
“I considered announcing my presence just so you knew, especially after last night. The Fates know I don’t want to be stabbed again.”
I so wanted to stab him again.
“But then I thought it would only lead to unnecessary embarrassment for all involved,” he went on, snapping me out of my momentary stupor. “I figured you would be on your way, none the wiser, and this awkward—albeit very interesting—meeting never had to occur. I didn’t think you would realize I was here.”
“No matter what your intentions were, you should’ve said something.” I started to stand straight and then remembered that wasn’t the wisest idea. “I mean no offense in what I’m about to say—”
“I’m sure you mean absolutely no offense,” he purred. “Just like you meant no offense when you stabbed me.”
I ignored the rumble of his voice and the reminder of what I’d done. “But you should leave.”
“There you go, being so very demanding. Meanwhile, you ignore what I’ve demanded of you.” His head tilted back, and a slice of moonlight kissed one cheek. “It’s very different.”
My pulse skittered. “What? A mortal who doesn’t cower before you or beg for a favor?”
“Some beg for quite a bit more than a favor.” His voice was like smoke, a shadowy caress. And that voice…it stoked that same odd feeling of warmth and familiarity. “But you’re not the type to cower. I doubt you’re the type to beg.”
“I’m not,” I told him.
“That’s a shame.”
“Maybe for you.”
“Maybe,” he agreed and then drifted forward.
“What are you doing?” I demanded, tensing.
He stopped, close enough for me to see an arched brow. “If I’m to leave as you so kindly demanded, I will have to walk forward.”
My jaw was beginning to hurt from how tightly I held it. “You can’t leave from any of the other banks?”
“I’m afraid that the lake is far too deep in those areas for that. And there is the issue of a cliff to one side.”
I stared at him. “You’re a god. Can’t you do something…godly?” I sputtered. “Like will yourself from the lake?”
“Will myself from a lake?” he repeated slowly, the half-grin making another appearance. “That’s not how that works.” The moon eased free of the clouds, bathing him once more in pearlescent light. “Should I stay, or should I go
?”
I glared at him. “Go.”
“As you wish, my lady.” He bowed his head slightly and then proceeded forward.
I watched him closely. The water dipped below his chest, revealing the ridges of the lean muscles of his stomach. I knew I should look away. Continuing to stare there meant I was being equally inappropriate. But his body was…it was very interesting, and I was curious because, well…
I didn’t have a good, appropriate reason for looking.
I knew how strong he was, so the fact that his body represented his strength came as no surprise. Despite the coolness of the water, the warmth in my skin steadily spread as those…thick lines on the insides of his hips became visible, a deep black that followed the indentations there, traveling down and over toward his—
“Oh, my gods!” I shrieked. “Stop!”
He halted a mere breath from the water revealing far, far too much. “Yes?” he inquired.
“You’re naked,” I informed him.
A heartbeat of silence passed. “Are you now just realizing that?”
“No!”
“Then you have to realize I will continue to be naked until I retrieve the clothing you apparently didn’t notice in your haste to undress.”
The breath I inhaled scorched my lungs.
“If it makes you uncomfortable, I suggest closing your eyes or keeping them off my unmentionables.” He paused. “Unless you would like for me to stay?”
“I don’t want you to stay.”
“Why do I think that’s a lie?”
“It’s not.”
“That’s another lie.”
I twitched at the near-decadent drawl of his tone and managed to keep my eyes on his face as he proceeded forward. Kind of. My gaze dropped again, but to those strange black lines. He was close enough that I could see that they did indeed creep along the side of his body. But they weren’t solid. Instead, some smaller marks or shapes followed the pattern of a line. Did they continue onto his back? Curiosity blazed through me now. What were the shapes?
Don’t ask. Keep your mouth closed. Don’t ask. Don’t—
“Is that ink?” I blurted out, hating myself for asking and for continuing to speak. “The kind needled into the skin?”
He stopped. “It is…something like that.”
I didn’t know if gods and Primals had a different process when it came to tattoos. “Did it hurt?”
“Only till it didn’t,” he replied, and my gaze lifted. There was a slight curve to his lips—just the faintest of smiles. But like before, it had a startling effect, warming the coldness of his features. “You’re familiar with tattoos?”
I nodded. “I’ve seen them on some of the sailors. Mostly on their backs and arms.”
Another lock of hair slipped forward over his cheek this time. “You’ve seen the bare backs of many sailors?”
Not that many, but that was none of his business. “So what if I have?”
“So what, indeed?” The faint smile remained. “It just makes all of this far more…interesting.”
I tensed to the point it almost became painful. “I don’t see how.”
“I could explain,” he offered.
“Not necessary.”
“You sure?”
“Yes.”
“I have time.”
“I don’t. Just go,” I repeated, my frustration with him, the day, and with the fact that he was here in my lake, and that this place would never be the same again, rising to the surface. “But do not come any closer to me. If you do, you will not like what happens.”
The god became very still then, so much so that I wasn’t sure if he even breathed. And the water… I swore the water around him stopped its lazy rippling. My heartbeat stuttered.
“I won’t?” he queried softly.
Tiny hairs began to rise all over my body. “No.”
“What will you do, my lady?” Moonlight kissed the apple of his cheekbone as he tilted his head once more. “You have no shadowstone dagger to threaten me with.”
“I don’t need a dagger,” I said, my voice thready. “And I’m not a lady.”
His head straightened. “No, I imagine not, considering you’re nude in a lake with an unfamiliar man, whose lip you bit upon meeting, and have seen the bare backs of many sailors. I was only being polite.”
My lip curled at the presumed insult. I knew I should let it go. Keep my mouth shut, but I didn’t. I hadn’t in three years, and my inability to do so had grown and festered into an incurable disease. The kind that provoked further, dangerous recklessness. “What I am is a Princess who is nude in a lake with an unfamiliar man and has seen the bare backs of men,” I told him, speaking the forbidden. “And you, with each passing moment, are getting closer to no longer having the ability to see anyone’s unmentionable places ever again.”
For a long moment, he stared at me, his features unreadable. My heart began to pound with trepidation—
The god laughed. Tipped his head back and actually laughed, long and deep. And his laugh was…well, it was a nice sound. Deep and husky.
It was also highly infuriating.
“I’m not sure what you find so funny,” I bit out.
“You,” he answered between laughs.
“Me?”
“Yes.” He lowered his head, his stare piercing even though I couldn’t see his eyes. “You amuse me.”
If there were some kind of switch deep inside me that controlled my anger and impulses, he’d found it with unerring accuracy over and over.
And then repeatedly flipped it each time I crossed paths when him.
I was a lot of things, but I was not the source of anyone’s amusement. Not even a god’s.
Fury pulsing through my blood, I rose to my full height. “I doubt you will find me so amusing when you’re gasping for the last of your breaths.”
He became still again, and…good gods, the water coursing down his chest froze. The droplets ceased.
“I’m already gasping,” he whispered, his voice rougher, deeper.
Confusion rippled along the flood of rage. Did he have some sort of breathing ailment? Could gods have health issues? If so, I doubted these cold waters would be good for his lungs. Not that I remotely cared for the condition of his lungs. Nor did I even know why I was wondering about their condition.
A warm breeze lifted the strands of my wet hair and slipped over the chilled skin of my bare shoulders and my…
Oh.
The water only reached my waist here.
“In case you’re wondering,”—his voice was a kiss against my skin—“this is me intentionally staring.”
I started to lower, seeking the shield of the water, but I stopped myself. I would not shrink or cower to anyone or anything. “Pervert.”
“Guilty.”
“Keep staring,” I growled. “And I will claw out those eyes with my fingers if need be.”
He barked out another short laugh, this one tinged with surprise. “Still no fear, Your Grace?”
I bristled at the way he used the Royal title as if it were something silly and irrelevant. All the more frustrating was the fact that he was perhaps the first person to ever refer to me as such.
“I’m still not afraid of you,” I replied, briefly glancing down. There was only a minor bit of relief when I saw several pale strands of hair plastered to my chest. They didn’t hide nearly enough, but it was better than nothing.
“Well, I’m a little afraid of you,” he said, and he was somehow closer without seeming to have moved. He wasn’t even a foot from me now, and an icy heat radiated from him, pressing against my flesh. His closeness heightened the sensitivity of every inch of skin. “You want to claw my eyes out.”
Hearing him say what I’d threatened sounded ridiculous. “You and I both know it would be impossible for me to claw your eyes out.”
“And yet, based on my limited interactions with you, I know you’d try, even when you know you’d fail.”
I couldn’t exactly argue against that. “Well, if you’re that concerned about the possibility of me attempting to do that, you should be careful of where your eyes wander.”
“I’m being extra-careful as incredibly hard as that is, given the…abundant allure of being less careful.”
“I’m sure you say that to all the ladies you accost.”
“Only the ones I would be tempted to allow to try and claw my eyes out.”
“That…that makes no sense.” Drawing in a too-short breath, I stepped back through the water, folding an arm over my chest.
He watched me, but his stare was nothing like Nor’s. There was curiosity there. “It’s amazing to witness.”
“What is?”
“These moments when you suddenly remember what I am. Is this another attempt to use common sense?”
I lifted my chin a notch. “Unfortunately.”
“Is it not going well again?”
“Not exactly.”
He chuckled, and the sound…well, it was as nice as his laugh. I wished it weren’t because it made me want to hear it again, and that seemed like a silly need. “Why do you think you need to remain quiet now?”
I spared a glance at the shore. “I’m likely to say something that would make you forget that one decent bone in your body.”
He drew his lower lip between his teeth, and for some inane reason, my full attention was drawn to that. “I don’t think that’s the kind of mood you have to worry about putting me in.”
“What kind of—?” I cut myself off as what he said sank in. There was a sharp curl low in my stomach that I didn’t like at all—for a multitude of reasons.
“I know. That was…inappropriate of me.”
“Very,” I muttered, thinking my response was just as inappropriate, all things considered.
“You’re unexpectedly outspoken.”
“I’m not sure how you can be expectant of anything as we don’t really know each other.”
“I think I know enough,” he responded.
“I don’t even know your name,” I pointed out.
“Some call me Ash.”
“Ash?” I repeated, and he nodded. Something about that was familiar. “Is it short for something?”
“It is short for many things.” His head suddenly snapped toward the shore. A moment passed. “By the way, I would think you would’ve learned from our last interaction. I don’t make a habit of punishing mortals for speaking their minds.” He shot a glance in my direction. “Mostly.”
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