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Story: A Strange Hymn

Good thing I already stowed away my daggers; otherwise, Des’s little gifts would be long gone.

I glance below us, watching the shimmering fabric fall to Somnia. Already, we’re too high to see where it lands.

The night air caresses my bare skin. It feels like skinny-dipping, the sensation strange and new and not altogether unpleasant. I’d be embarrassed over the exposure, except we’re too high in the sky and the night is too dark for anyone to see us.

I turn back to Des, my flesh bare. Like me, his clothes have long since peeled away. I run a hand over his biceps, my thumb tracing one of his war cuffs.

We slip through a layer of wispy clouds, the mist prickling my flesh. It’s the clouds that remind me of the first time I flew. Des had pointed out the couples hidden in the darkness, each caught in a lover’s embrace.

I suck in a breath, realizing what Des means to do. Whatwemean to do.

Of course, the King of the Night, the man who rules over sex and sleep, violence and chaos, means to take me up here, where the stars and the great vastness of the universe are our audience.

“I told you I had many, many demands,” he says softly, his words harkening back to what he told me when he first reentered my life. Back then, his demands had made me nervous, but now, as he gazes at me with those expressive eyes, it’s clear hisdemandsaren’t anything but the wishes of a man who was kept away from his love for too long.

As the two of us hover in the heavens, our hair rustling in the gentle breeze, I can feel Des’s magic settling around us. It’s not pushy or uncomfortable like it sometimes can be. Rather, I feel as though I’m bathing in his essence—shadows and moonbeams.

Slowly, his hands slide down my back. They feel like a sculptor’s touch, molding me into some pleasing form. They slip under the backs of my thighs.

My hands are clasped loosely around Des’s neck, and I play with the soft ends of his hair.

“I thought you wanted me to follow your instructions,” I say, my breath a whisper.

He lifts my body a few inches, and then slides me onto him. My lips part as I stare at him, my skin beginning to glow. I look like just another star in the sky as our flesh meets.

“I do,” he says, nuzzling my cheek, “but I find I prefer you a bit untamed too.”

With that, the two of us begin to move, our bodies quickly turning feverish. And we spend the night as two more lovers hidden among the clouds.

Chapter 19

The next day, Des and I are back out in the training yard: me a little bedraggled from my evening, Des looking just as sharp as always.

If I thought that after the closeness of last night, the Bargainer would go easy on me today, then I thought wrong.

I clutch my brand-spanking-new daggers, feeling every inch the amateur as Des comes at me.

“Block—block,” he barks as he begins his attack.

My arms come up belatedly, barely holding him back.

“My flank is open, Callie,” he says.

“How am I—?”

He spins out of my grip, and then I feel the press of his blade against my neck.

“How many times have I killed you today?” he asks, his breath warm against my cheek.

“Twenty-three.” He’s been making me count. Like I don’t already feel supremely shitty about my combat skills.

He clicks his tongue. “You can do better.”

I don’twantto do better. I want to go back inside the palace, find the royal kitchens, pillage their pastries, and then take a nice long nap.

But wishes, I’ve decided, are little bastards that always bite you in the ass—at least if you have them around the Bargainer.

Des swipes out, knocking one of my blades from my grip, the metal clattering against the ground.