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I closed my hand over her mouth, smothering her cries as she came. It took sheer effort to rein in my body. I tried focusing on my fucking breathing as I clamped my jaw shut while she trembled and writhed against me.

Kissing her throat, I shuddered as I fought back my need. As I tried to understand the warmth in my chest. The sudden feeling of being full. Of being complete without reaching completion.

Poppy’s shaking eased, and her grip on my hand did also. I drew it from between her thighs and brought it to her stomach. I held her, my heart pounding damn near as fast as hers. And I kept holding her, even as her body went limp against mine, sated and relaxed while I remained rock-fucking-hard. I held her in the silence as the night continued around us.

Drawing in a deep breath, I lifted my head just enough to see Poppy’s face. Her eyes were closed, the lashes forming little crescent moons against her cheeks, and I thought that was the silliest fucking thing I could’ve thought, but godsdamn, she was absolutely breathtaking in the afterglow of pleasure.

“I know you’re not going to admit it,” I said, my voice thick with unspent desire. “But you and I will both always know that I was right.”

A tired smile appeared on Poppy’s lips, and mine responded in kind as I settled behind her, keeping my arms wrapped around her. My cock fucking ached, and it would be sometime before that eased up, but damn, that minor discomfort was more than worth it.

Because my release would never compare to the knowledge that I had been the first person she’d ever experienced pleasure with. A primitive sort of satisfaction seized me. One I should be damn ashamed of but wasn’t. I couldn’t be. Not when I’d helped her find pleasure.

Experience it.

Live it.

HOW COULD I?

I’d been reluctant to leave Poppy as the gray skies of the approaching morning dawned, but I’d been awake for a while, just watching her and thinking.

Thinking about what we’d talked about last night. What she’d experienced. How it’d felt like an honor to bear witness to her living. What was to come.

And all the while, Poppy looked so damn peaceful, as if she were where monsters could never find her.

But they already had.

I was one of them, no better than the Ascended.

Because once I got what I wanted, I would be sending her right back to the beasts capable of unthinkable atrocities. I had to because she was the only thing the Blood Crown would negotiate for. She was the only way I could free my brother and prevent a war.

But how did I do that?

After last night? After how brave she’d been to seek something for herself—to vocalize that this was not the life she would’ve chosen, confirming what I already suspected? After how she’d clung to me before I took her to the Duchess? After I’d seen all her pain the night of the Rite and what we did beneath the willow? After I found her in the Atheneum, reading such a dirty little journal? After she’d admitted she didn’t agree with the Rite? After the Duke had brutalized her, yet she worried about me getting in trouble for stopping the Priestess? After finding her on the Rise, discovering her at the Red Pearl, and all those seconds, minutes, and hours in between, when she showed me again and again that she was not what I expected? How, when I was around her, I didn’t think of the past or the future? I simply lived.

But how could I not?

She was important to the Blood Crown. She, and she alone, was the thing they were willing to do anything for. And even if that weren’t the case, I was already in this too deep. Too many bodies lay between the moment I’d started this and now—too many lives were already on borrowed time to back out.

Fuck, this wasn’t even the first time I’d thought this.

From the moment I’d realized it was her at the Red Pearl, doubt had steadily crept in and grew. I’d done my damnedest to ignore it, to erase the doubt and guilt, telling myself that my reasons were just. That everything I did was for my brother and the greater good.

Pressure clamped down on my chest as I carefully brushed a wisp of hair from her cheek. She wiggled, snuggling against me in sleep.

I closed my eyes as a yawning hollowness opened in my chest. Fuck, I didn’t want this for her.

So why did it have to be this way?

A muscle ticked at my temple as I opened my eyes, finding Kieran moving about, checking on the horses. There had to be another way. My thoughts raced as fast as my heartbeat. In the eerie silence of the Blood Forest, scenario after scenario played out like they had before. Unless I could somehow get the Blood Crown to release Malik before handing over Poppy, there were no feasible options. And that wasn’t even a choice. The Blood Crown was a lot of things, but they weren’t fucking idiots.