Page 88 of A Kingdom of Sand and Ice (Kingdom of Gods #2)
I tried teaching Hadrian the Sandhii language.
He is better off with a sword.
Tabitha Wysteria
Alina had no desire to move. She was adrift in a dream far sweeter than any her mind could have conjured.
Breathing in Hessa’s warm, familiar, intoxicating scent.
She closed her eyes and let every muscle soften.
The world melted away: no worries, no fear, no tomorrow.
There was only this. The present, suspended in stillness as she lay with Hessa moulded against her side.
But reality crept in, cruel and unrelenting, crashing over her like a wave and lodging itself in her throat as guilt. Guilt for revelling in peace while others suffered. She should have been preparing, readying herself for battle, not idling in bed with her hand gliding over Hessa’s bare back.
‘Your mind is far too loud,’ Hessa mumbled.
Alina gave a breath of laughter. ‘It is not.’
‘I can hear your thoughts, amira.’
Alina turned, their noses brushing, soft and intimate. ‘We should be training.’
‘You fell off a mountain,’ Hessa replied with a smirk. ‘No training, at least for now.’
Alina traced a languid finger down the curve of Hessa’s spine, drifting lower with teasing intent.
‘What we did last night must surely count as bodily exertion, and yet, you did not once complain.’
Hessa laughed, rich and fond. ‘You’re a terribly wicked princess.’
Alina’s deep brown eyes darkened with desire as Hessa rose and straddled her, legs poised on either side of the drakonian princess, the motion fluid and commanding.
She leaned forward, claiming Alina’s hand with a slow, deliberate grace, her lips wrapping around slender fingers in a sensual kiss before guiding them intimately within herself.
Alina’s eyes widened, a glimmer of awe mingling with the heat that burnt behind her gaze.
‘Utterly wicked, amira,’ Hessa whispered, her voice a velvet caress as she guided Alina’s fingers, rolling her hips in a slow, deliberate rhythm, each movement a silent invocation of pleasure.
Alina began to move as well, her other hand slipping across her own skin, exploring with trembling need. Waves of sensation coiled through her, tightening every muscle, and in that moment, all thought of training, of war, of the burdened world beyond their shared breath, vanished like mist at dawn.
Hessa lowered her head and gently caught Alina’s nipple between her teeth, a playful bite that sent a jolt of heat racing through Alina. The mere sensation unravelled her, igniting every inch of her body as she continued to touch herself with desperate longing.
Hessa smiled. Sly and satisfied as she slowly leaned back, drawing away like a retreating tide. Alina hesitated, uncertainty shimmering in her eyes as her hand stilled.
‘Do not stop, amira,’ Hessa commanded, her voice low and silken with intent.
‘But… why are you moving away from me?’ Alina asked, her brows drawing together in soft confusion.
‘I’m going to sit right here,’ Hessa said, settling back with deliberate grace, ‘and watch you pleasure yourself, for me.’
‘But I want to touch you too,’ Alina said, a trace of longing in her voice.
Hessa’s smile was slow, knowing. ‘I know. But for now, this is what I want. Touch yourself, amira, for me.’
Alina had thought she might feel shy perched on the narrow cot, her back pressed against the cool stone wall, legs parted just enough as her fingers moved between them.
But her focus remained fixed on Hessa, who sat mere inches away, watching her with unwavering intensity.
And it was that look, the smouldering weight of Hessa’s eyes upon her, that sent a rush of desire sweeping through her belly, hot and consuming.
‘I’m going to…’ Alina began, but the words dissolved on her tongue as the wave of pleasure crashed over her.
In an instant, Hessa was beside her once more, slipping her fingers deep into Alina’s swollen centre with urgent tenderness.
Gasping, Alina surrendered to the rhythm, her body moving against Hessa’s touch, crying out her name as ecstasy overtook her.
The door burst open, and Alina shrieked, startled, as an intruder stood frozen in the threshold—white eyes wide with shock at the sight of the two princesses entwined.
With a weary sigh, Hessa climbed off Alina’s body, the reluctance in her movements unmistakable.
She turned slowly, her attention settling on Saren.
‘I didn’t know…’ Saren’s expression tightened, jaw clenching. ‘I heard Alina had awoken and came to check on her. I’ ll return later.’
Hessa gave a single nod, dismissing her with cool finality. But Alina caught something in Saren’s eyes before she turned away, something glacial and unyielding. A chill crept along Alina’s spine, and she instinctively reached for Hessa’s arm, pulling her close.
‘We should get up,’ Hessa said, but bent forward to press a gentle kiss to Alina’s lips.
‘Saren and you…’ Alina began, a whisper of memory stirring in her mind, some long-past conversation, the sudden recollection that there had once been something between them, something romantic.
At once, Hessa’s smile faded and her shoulders grew taut. ‘That was a long time ago, amira. She is my sacanda, second-in-command. Nothing more.’
Alina searched her eyes, hungry for any hint of falsehood, some subtle crack in her words. But there was nothing. Hessa’s stare was steady, unflinching. She was telling the truth.
‘I don’t care for her in that way,’ Hessa said softly, pulling Alina closer. ‘It never meant… It never meant this.’
Alina gave a small nod, resting her forehead against Hessa’s, her chest loosening from the knot of worry. She had just uncovered something raw and real in Hessa, and the thought of losing it made her ache. ‘I ought to speak to her. She looked… concerned.’
But Hessa gently pushed the drakonian princess back onto the cot, lifting Alina’s arms above her head as she climbed atop her once more.
Their bodies tangled again in laughter and heat, kisses exchanged in breathless succession, the warmth between them so entwined they could no longer tell whose skin was giving off the fire.
‘Saren can wait,’ Hessa whispered into her ear, voice like silk. ‘Now… where were we?’
…
Alina had spent the past two hours honing her sword-throwing technique. Her skill had improved remarkably, so much so that she managed to hurl the blade across the ravine between two mountain walls, striking an apple that had been left, precariously, on a distant windowsill.
Hessa let out a delighted laugh as the fruit was neatly impaled.
She clapped from her perch at the edge of a narrow road, one that tapered off into empty air with only the rooftop of a building far below to catch a misstep.
Her right leg swung lazily as she peeled a piece of desert-grown fruit, its scent sharp and sun-kissed.
She broke off a slice and handed it to Alina, who joined her, settling close enough that their knees brushed gently.
‘It is time,’ Hessa said, staring out over the sprawl of the city, her thoughts adrift as she chewed contemplatively. At Alina’s confused look, she added, ‘You’re ready, amira. Ready to fight.’
‘I’m not,’ Alina muttered.
Hessa gave her a firm nudge with the tip of one finger. ‘Yes, you are. It’s only your mind that doubts. I’ve watched you train every single day. You’re as good as I am.’
Alina let out a snort of disbelief.
‘Well… perhaps not quite as good as me,’ Hessa teased with a wicked smirk, popping another wedge of fruit into her mouth with theatrical flair.
‘When should we go?’ Alina asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Hessa handed her another slice, considering. ‘We shouldn’t wait much longer. I’ve listened to the whispers but there seems to be no witches here. We’ll gather what we need here, then make our way back to your land.’
Alina exhaled, a breath laced with tension. The thought of returning stirred something uneasy in her. She had long stopped counting the weeks that had folded into months since she left.
Home.
Was it still home? There was nothing left there but a title she no longer craved, a throne that felt cold to the touch.
Her place, her true place was here, beside a desert princess who perched on rooftops and spat into the wind, who picked fights and turned life into a game.
A woman who adored evening walks, long massages, and kisses stolen beneath starlight.
Hessa was her home.
Alina caught sight of Saren seated on a rooftop not far ahead, her figure still as stone against the burnished sky.
Alina knew she needed to speak with her, to explain that the climbing accident had not been her fault.
She would find the right moment, perhaps later that evening when they all gathered for supper.
Still, she doubted Saren would be willing to talk, not after what she’d witnessed.
No matter what Hessa claimed, Alina had seen the flash of pain in Saren’s eyes the moment she’d found them tangled in bed together.
Even now, the second-in-command cast furtive glances down towards them, her hands clenching into fists at the sight of their laughter. Resentment shimmered across her features like heat rising from the desert stone.
It would have to wait.
‘What troubles you?’ Hessa asked, her voice gentle, perceptive.
‘The Dunayans… this isn't their war.’
‘But I am their leader,’ Hessa replied, tilting her head with a frown. ‘They follow where I go.’
‘Still… I don’t know.’ Alina rubbed her forehead, as though trying to soothe the thoughts gnawing at her. ‘I can’t help but feel… maybe they’re not happy with me being here.’
‘That’s not true, amira,’ Hessa said firmly. ‘You are one of us.’