by Elly Blake
“I want whatever you’re offering. And I don’t want you to be unsatisfied.”
I chuckled at his double meaning. “You’d get fleeced at the market. Clearly a king isn’t taught how to haggle.”
One of his hands continued to knead my neck. The other slid across my stomach, the cold burning through the thin linen nightgown. My pulse kicked up.
“I know a treasure when I see one.” He trailed his lips from my neck to my shoulder, lifting away the fabric. I shivered. “One does not haggle over a treasure.”
“I wouldn’t know.” I tilted my head, giving him better access. Lethargy stole into my limbs, but my body was responding to his gentle caresses in ways that had nothing to do with relaxation. My skin warmed. Blood fizzed in my veins. “I’m not used to being able to afford something that costly.”
He smoothed my hair over one shoulder, his lips finding the nape of my neck. I gasped, the sensations all but overwhelming me.
“If something is valuable enough, one pays the price gladly.”
“And would you regret the expense later?”
“Never. Not when the prize is something I covet.”
I swallowed, knowing we were talking about much more than a market transaction. “And what if the… treasure… considers you to be an equal prize?”
He sighed, his cool breath fanning my throat as he turned me toward him. “Then I would count myself lucky.”
After the terrible dream, it was so good to feel valued, precious. I slid my hands into his hair, relishing its dark softness. His lips descended slowly and I watched, entranced, my eyes closing at the contact. It kindled a spark inside me. Heat poured from my heart, but the cool of his chest against mine drew heat into his skin, working to equalize our temperatures. We pressed closer, our lips meeting harder. He held me close and fell, slowly, sideways onto the bed, carrying me with him, cushioning my fall with his shoulder and arm. His shirt rode up with the movement. Before we even settled, I had my hands on his bare waist, greedily feeling his muscles beneath my palms. He sucked in a breath.
“Are my hands too hot?” I asked, concerned, pulling them away. “Did I hurt you?”
“Shh, no.” In a swift movement, his shirt was gliding to the floor like a cut sail. He took my hand and placed it on his chest. “Touch away.”
It was a heady luxury, feeling each whipcord curve and hard muscle under my fingers. I smoothed up and down slowly with a gentle abrasion that made him shudder.
“You feel so good,” I whispered.
“I’m glad you think so.” His voice was ragged. “There’s nothing I love more than your hands on me. Your lips on mine. No better feeling than you in my arms.”
I trembled as he smoothed his hands up over my ribs, stopping just below my breasts. I held my breath, waiting.
He paused, his fingers giving a little twitch. Then he let out a breath and smoothed his hands down to my waist. His kisses cooled, nipping gently at the corners of my lips, sliding back and forth in a way that was less arousing, more comforting.
He was exerting his self-discipline, preparing to pull away. Cooling me off by degrees. He was going to be sensible and staid and careful.
Anger licked up from my heart, sudden and blazing.
I didn’t want to be cooled. I didn’t want to be sensible. I wanted to forget the future and live in the present, to lose myself in something good. For once, why couldn’t he just let go?
With a determined hand, I grabbed the back of his neck. I slung my other arm across his waist and pulled him to me. Our hips met. I ground mine into his while I took one of his hands and placed it squarely on my breast. He sucked in a breath, and his hand tightened convulsively. I moaned as a rush of sensation flowed through my nerve endings. His palm was strong and intimate and gentle and felt like nothing else ever had. His cold touch burned and scorched and made my blood hum through my veins.
I didn’t want it to stop.
His breaths came fast and uneven. He seemed to struggle with himself, as if he thought he should pull away, but couldn’t.
Good. I was so tired of his damned self-control.
“Ruby,” he gasped helplessly.
I stopped his words, slanting my mouth under his, pulling him closer, nearly bruising myself in my frenzy. I wanted to absorb him, devour all the feelings of his skin on mine and feed off the euphoria. Something inside me grew and multiplied, a need rushing forward.
“I should go,” he managed in a choking voice, his lips fused to the tender skin under my ear, exploring my jaw like it was a lost continent coated in gold dust. He muttered, almost to himself, “But how can I keep resisting you? How can I keep tearing myself away?”
“Go later,” I breathed, while the world turned black and white. I was losing control, but I no longer cared. “Leave at dawn.”
When my hand gripped his bare shoulder to pull him closer, he turned his head to kiss and nip my wrist.
His eyes shot wide. He inhaled sharply, his hand tightening on my arm. I opened my eyes and saw what he was looking at: my vein, pulsing dark like night.
In desperation, I lifted my upper body from the bed to push the softness of my chest to his. He expelled a jagged breath—huuuh—then he swore again and levered himself off the bed, stumbling back and staring at me, breathing heavily.
“Don’t touch me,” he panted from several feet away.
His words lashed at something inside me. I looked at him in shock, his contempt startling me from my frantic state.
“It’s still me, Arcus,” I said shakily, my nightgown hanging off one shoulder, my skin still humming, needing his.
“Like blazes it is. Look at your wrist.”
I sat up, swinging my legs over the edge of the bed. “The Minax feeds off desire.” As soon as I said it, I knew it was true. “That means I want you. It’s still me wanting you. I can’t control how it reacts.”
He shuddered, but this time it was with revulsion, not pleasure. “I can’t touch you while you… until it’s gone.”
My heart squeezed painfully at the idea that he thought he couldn’t even touch me. “That might never happen.”
“Don’t say that!” His eyes showed stark fear.
I met his gaze squarely. “This might be who I am now. Forever.” Can you love me like this? Can you ever want me again?
He shook his head, furious as he snatched up his shirt from the floor. “I refuse to believe that.” He swallowed and balled his shirt in his fist. “The book… there must be answers. We’ll find them.”
It was so clear that he found this aspect of me unacceptable. He might say he accepted my Nightblood side, but that wasn’t true. If I didn’t find a way to get rid of the Minax, he would wash his hands of me, would walk away without a backward glance. His reaction seared my pride and slashed at my tender insecurities, making me bleed inside. But I refused to show him. He wasn’t the only one who could freeze someone out.
“And what, you’ll avoid me until then?” I demanded. “Until I’m pure enough for you to touch again?”
“It’s not a question of pure enough,” he practically spat. “It’s a question of who is making your decisions. Is it you? Or is it… that thing?”
That thing. I struggled every day to keep that thing inside myself to protect him and his precious kingdom and everything he held dear. How dare he question my decisions? “There are some who might not care.”
His brow furrowed. “Meaning?”
I lounged back on the bed, letting the loosened gown fall farther. “Not everyone has your scruples. If you won’t touch me, maybe someone else will.”
His breath stopped, his mouth coming open in disbelief. “Are you threatening me?” Naked hurt showed on his face. “How… how could you say that? I would never say that to you. I would never even think it.”
I didn’t care that I was dancing on the edge of a cliff. I didn’t care that his heart was bared to me, and that I could crush it with a few words. I enjoyed that fact, and savored it.<
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No. In some part of my mind, I felt deep regret. I struggled to contain the beast inside me.
And failed. The regret was drawn away, like fog on the wind.
I met his gaze coolly. “Just remember the choice was yours. You didn’t want me, not the other way around.”
He took a couple of harsh breaths, the sting of betrayal showing in his expression in subtle shades. My heart surged, gleeful, even as sickness seethed in my stomach, at complete odds with the joy.
His voice was low and taut, his eyes daggers of pain. “I’ll always remember this moment.”
I crossed my arms, starting to shake. Remorse continued to surge over me in waves, but the need to hurt pushed it back. “Remember what?”
He sucked in an unsteady breath. “As the first time I saw a side of you that I cannot love.”
The sharp burn of those words penetrated my haze. I squeezed my eyes shut, hearing my door open and close, the slam reverberating through the walls. His footsteps faded and another slam echoed farther away. My heart raced, euphoria souring into crushing remorse. But the sadness was drawn away, leaving me numb.
Sitting up on the edge of the bed, I turned my palms to the ceiling, resting the backs of my hands on my knees and examining my wrists.
One of the veins was garnet red. The other, inky night.
PART TWO
EIGHTEEN
I CLAMBERED DOWN THE RIGGING, hopped to the deck, and lifted my arms for a much-needed stretch. After finishing a four-hour watch in the crow’s nest, it felt good to shake out my cramped muscles.
So far, there’d been no sign of any other sails, just a low, gray sky that robbed the sea of color. Here and there, wispy clouds scudded past in chaotic, upside-down versions of the foam-tipped waves.
“It’s all yours, Seva,” I said in Sudesian.
The Fireblood master gave a graceful bow before climbing into the rigging for her turn on watch, her orange hose and red tunic making her look like a living flame.
It had taken a few days to crew and supply our ships. Kai had insisted we take no more than four. Any more would spook Liddy. She had eyes all over the seas, so she would know the Errant Princess was on its way long before we arrived, but Kai said that was a good thing. An unfamiliar ship would be boarded as soon as it entered her territory.
Lord Pell had been left in charge of readying the Tempesian fleet. Once we had directions to the Gate of Light, we’d send word, and the rest of the ships would follow.
We hadn’t seen signs of the ships Queen Nalani had promised us. I prayed to Sud we could count on her. If the worst happened and Eurus managed to open the Gate, we needed Frostblood and Fireblood forces in order to make frostfire, or their version of it. Right now, all we had were the dozen Fireblood masters who’d traveled with us from Sudesia, plus me and Kai.
Seeing Kai there, I made my way to the quarterdeck. It was raised above the main deck, affording a clear view of the ceaseless activity in the rigging above and on the main deck below. Kai stood on the port side, a few feet away from the helmsman at the wheel. His gaze seemed to take in everything at once, nothing too small for his notice. It was in large part due to Kai’s keen-eyed supervision that the Frostblood and Fireblood sailors were working together in harmony.
Kai gave me a courteous nod as I reached his side. He was in his element with the salt spray and sunshine, the breeze ruffling his hair. His feet were braced wide, shoulders relaxed, his loose white shirt untucked over black breeches that disappeared into his polished black knee-boots. His only concession to the cold was a fur vest he had picked up from somewhere in Tempesia, though it looked more like an accessory than a barrier against the wind. As I stopped a few inches away, I smelled the soap he favored, scented with sandalwood.
We hadn’t had a moment alone since the arena, but now that we did, I didn’t know what to say. I wanted to make sure he was all right, but asking would have insulted him. I wanted to apologize, but that would be even worse. A couple of minutes ticked past as I discarded various possibilities.
“I should warn you,” he said in a bored tone, “I have no patience for awkward silences.”
I pushed away tendrils of hair that insisted on breaking free of my braid. “I don’t enjoy them, either.”
“So?”
I sighed. Time to take off the bandages and examine the wounds. It did no good to leave things festering in the dark.
Instead of looking at Kai, I watched a sailor scrubbing the planks with salt water and sandstone on the main deck. “Why did you say those things to me in the arena?”
He paused for a few seconds before answering, and the tension inside me wound tight.
“In the abbey,” he said, “I spent two days taking care of you, wiping your brow with a cool cloth, listening to you mumble nonsense, worrying you might never wake.”
That wasn’t the reply I’d expected. I felt a gut punch of remorse at how little I’d said to acknowledge his care of me. “I’m sorry.”
“I didn’t mind. I’d do it again. That’s not what bothered me. But no sooner did Arcus arrive than you disappeared with him.”
I hadn’t thought about it, but he was right. “That was thoughtless of me.”
He clasped his hands behind his back and stared forward. “No one else exists when he’s around.”
I closed my eyes tight. “I’ve neglected you. Our friendship.”
He scoffed, turning his head to look at me finally. “You decided our bond was merely friendship. You decided it so quickly, back in Sudesia, probably the moment you set eyes on him again. It didn’t take you long to forget that you were betrothed to me.”
A flush crept up my cheeks. “Kai, that’s unfair. The queen forced the betrothal on us.”
His jaw tightened. “I’d realized I wanted it.”
I felt as if my guts were being twisted by an invisible fist. I didn’t know his feelings had run that deep. “I had no idea.”
“I know you didn’t. You didn’t want to know. It isn’t as if I hid how I felt.”
“I’m so sorry, Kai.” Maybe I had been willfully unaware of what he was offering. It killed me to think of hurting him. “But you seemed to accept that I was with Arcus.”
“I thought I had. But I meant what I said to him. He isn’t always there when you need him. That bothers me. At those times, I think, I could do better.” He turned, his eyes boring into mine. “I would put you first.”
Even now, there was an undeniable pull when I looked at him. We were so similar, twin flames glowing in unison. In some ways, he understood me better than anyone else. “There is not a doubt in my mind that whoever holds your heart will be incredibly happy.”
“But it won’t be you,” he said in resignation, and there was the dying light of a question in his eyes, a question he knew had already been answered.
“No,” I said, my chest aching. “Not in that way. But I hope I’ll always have the… the affection you hold for friends.” Tears gathered behind my eyes and I blinked against them, but a fugitive escaped down my cheek.
“Come here,” he said in tones of patient forbearance. He hooked an arm around me and pulled me to his chest. I stayed there for a minute until I had myself under control.
“You shouldn’t try to hold in your tears,” he admonished. “A Fireblood cries when she’s sad.”
“Apparently.” I sniffed and stepped away with a cleansing breath. “Thank you, Kai. For being my best friend.”
“You’re welcome. I am not entirely certain you deserve me.”
“I very much doubt that I do.” I watched him closely. “Please tell me you’re not too upset. I can’t bear you hurting.”
“No?” His mouth curved up on one side, his eyes crinkling at the edges. “You can’t bear it?”
“No. I truly can’t.”
“And if I say I will never recover?”
I crossed my arms. “I’d say you were just trying to make me feel worse. If you were really that broken up over me, I wo
uldn’t have seen Sorcia, the curvy little quartermaster, letting herself into your cabin late last night. And you wouldn’t smirk to yourself when Doreena fawns over you from afar.”
A flush crept into his tanned cheeks. “Sorcia is… an old friend. We…” He cleared his throat. “You can hardly judge me for that. You and Arcus spent the voyage from Sudesia kissing on deck for everyone to see.”
“I’m not judging. But I can’t see you moving on to someone else if you were sleeping feet away from the person you really wanted. On some level, you had already let me go.”
He narrowed his eyes, staring straight ahead for a long time. “You might be right.” After a time, his shoulders relaxed and his back straightened. “If I’d really wanted you, I would have fought for you.”
I winced. If I’d really wanted you… Well, I’d wanted to convince him, hadn’t I? I couldn’t complain that he’d agreed too easily. “Yes.”
“And I would have won.”
“You think so, do you?” I asked with a smile. How quickly his arrogance bounced back. I was glad of it.
He nodded, more confident than I’d seen him in a while. “I know it.” He turned scalding eyes on me, making blood seep into my cheeks. “You have no idea how I held back with you, Ruby. No idea. You hardly had a taste.”
Despite the flustered heat under my skin, I couldn’t help but laugh. “I’m sure someday I’ll regret missing out.”
He faced forward, posture easy, his face still wearing that knowing grin. “You will.”
And somehow, I knew things were all right between us. For a minute, we stood in silence, watching the bellied sails and the clear sky and the rolling sea. But the silence was no longer awkward.
“So, what should we expect from your mercenary friend when we arrive?” I asked, changing the subject without preamble.
“Worried?” he teased.
“The unknown always worries me.”
He narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. “Hmm, what can I tell you about the lovely Liddy, moneylender of pirate fame? She marries for land, and she marries often.” He looked at me to see my reaction, grinning at my confused expression. “Her husbands tend not to live long.”