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I covered every inch of her chest that was visible. Until her glorious breasts were the deep scarlet of the sky just before dawn. Most thought it was black. But before the first rays of sun appeared above the horizon, before the golds and pinks and oranges took over, there was that faint glow of blood. The blood of death, the blood of life. An ending, a beginning.

I leaned down and blew softly over the wet paint to dry it. Veyka shivered.

A path of warm air that felt cool against the wet paint. Over the curve of each of her breasts. Along the lines of her collarbones, just visible beneath her skin. Into the sensitive channel of her throat and neck.

Her eyes were hazy with need when I met them again.

She opened her mouth, ready for my kiss. Begging for it.

But I dipped a bare finger into the white paint instead.

I drew a star right in the center of her chest. The colors blurred slightly, the scarlet not quite dry even with my attentions. But the contrast was clear enough. Bright white and glowing against the darkness, just like Veyka.

“You are insufferable,” she breathed, her voice shaking with need.

“What do you want, Veyka?”

Her eyes didn’t stop glowing. No, we were both too far gone for that. We both knew how this encounter was going to end.

But she blinked and they shifted, just slightly.

“I want to stay here with you like this, forever.”

My heart began to pound in my chest. An insistent demand.

“Forever is a long time.” My voice was hoarse with emotions that even a few months ago, I would have been horrified to feel. But I couldn’t stop them any more than I could stop the minutes from passing.

She dragged her teeth over her lower lip—not invitation, but trepidation. “We might have a thousand years, but still not a single one of them would feel like this.”

I traced the star with my fingertip, my eyes never leaving hers. Somehow, I knew precisely where every line was without a single glance.

She caught my other hand, lifting it to her shoulder, and leaned her cheek against it.

Such a small gesture.

But I felt it everywhere.

I was a male made for death. I killed. I razed cities. I commanded legions of vicious beasts. Iwasa vicious beast. But with Veyka, I became something different, something more.

I would stand there and let her hold my hand hostage for the rest of the night if that was what she needed.

Veyka was special. She was more open than me, though she didn’t realize it. She opened her heart easier, even if she hadn’t given me the words I longed for.

Her voice was so soft, it might have been lost to the rumble of the humans reveling on the other side of the booths. I wasn’t even sure I heard it with my ears. She might have spoken directly through the mating bond and into my soul.

“I never had a chance to be anything other than what they made me. The Princess of Peace. The Queen of Secrets. The Elemental Heir. The Queen of the Elemental Fae. High Queen of Annwyn.”

My mate,I finished for her in my mind.

I waited before speaking, but she was waiting for me. “I had three hundred years.”

The corner of her mouth lifted. “Is that so, Brutal Prince?”

“I chose that name.”

Now the other side. “How vain of you.”

I almost rolled my eyes—but that would have torn my gaze away from hers. Impossible. “I chose that life. I was never going to be the terrestrial heir. I could have stayed closer to Eilean Gayl. But I wanted to use my powers to defend my kingdom. I chose to do the things that earned me that name. For three hundred years, I chose.” I cupped her face with my other hand, not caring about the paint. “But you never got to.”