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Bria

I swing around at the sound of the door.

Evander was right behind me when we got back but had closed the door for a few minutes.

I could hear voices outside but wasn’t able to make out who he was speaking with.

He glances down at me, concern spreading across his face at my appearance.

I’m sure it doesn’t look good. I’m pacing around the room, my hand pressed to my chest. I’m just trying to breathe, the overwhelming surge of energy swallowing me whole, making it difficult to fill my lungs. Making it difficult to function.

“She’s fine, Bria. She’s asleep.”

I gasp, sucking air into my lungs, heat searing my chest.

“Are you sure?” I manage to rasp out.

“Yes, they dosed her too high. Luthais saw it too. But she’s sleeping it off. She’s safe for now.” He tracks me as I move around the room, and I vaguely notice as he walks to the doors of the balcony and throws them open.

This is that same flash of heat that happened before with Silas.

Only this time, it isn’t a bump from his energy.

This is my body experiencing too much emotion.

Rage at what they did to my sister had been building already, but when I saw her and heard what they have planned, it only dug itself deeper into me.

The pain and sorrow emanating from her was too much to bear.

Those emotions, coupled with my unchecked magic, are causing the well inside to bubble over.

“Luthais?” The name hisses out of my mouth.

The thought of him makes my body burn more and I shift toward the open doors. I want to let the shadows curl around him until they squeeze the last of his breath from him, let the beasts sink their talons into him and rip him apart like they did to those men in the plains two nights ago.

I know I’m losing control. My skin is on fire. The magic is craving release and I have to do something to stop the thrum of energy pulsing at my fingertips.

“I know what you’re thinking. But he’s guarding her room, Bria, and he did seem pretty pissed off by the revelations he heard.

” I can feel his eyes on me as I stand in front of the doors, wishing the air were cooler than it is.

“I don’t think he’s going to do anything to her. Not tonight, at least.”

“You saw the bruises!” I gasp.

“I did,” Ev assures me. “But no one is beating an unconscious girl Bria.”

I feel the heat creeping higher up my neck and into my face. Clutching at the choker around my neck, I rip at it. The metal is heating from my body, scalding my skin. “Shit,” I breathe, tugging at the clasp harder.

Evander moves behind me. I’m panting and grasping at the stones, pulling at them to no avail. My fingers won’t work.

“Bria, stop,” he orders firmly in my ear, but I can’t stop.

I can’t breathe so I just kept grabbing, trying to keep the metal from melting into my skin. He snatches my hands away from my neck, pinning them to my sides, and pulls me flush against his body. I feel his heart pounding against my back.

“Stop,” he commands again, but it’s quieter this time, pleading with me. “I’ll get it off.”

He must feel the heat. His hands have to be burning from where they hold mine.

But if he does, he isn’t letting on. He says nothing as he slowly releases my hands.

I fight the urge to rip at my throat again, instead letting him move to unclasp the choker.

His fingers touch the back of it, and I hear him hiss, the metal hot to the touch.

Once he works it free, he lets it fall to the ground.

My hands fly back up to my neck, feeling the tender skin where it had been resting.

“Bria, you have to relax. You’re burning up.” His breath is hot against my neck, against the lingering stinging from the burns.

Evander wraps his body around me, holding me around the waist and pressing his lips to my bare shoulder. His body is warm, not helping with the overheating, but I know his touch will relax me. In some corner of my mind, I’m aware that I need this and can’t fight it—that I need him.

I shudder as we stand in the open air and I try to breathe, letting the warm breeze fill my lungs and pressing my chest upward. But the gown is too much, too tight against my chest that I can’t get a full breath in with how fitted the bodice is against me. I need to cool off and breathe.

“Ev,” I plead, but my voice is hoarse, as if the flames inside are frying my vocal cords. “Get it off!” I choke out.

He squeezes me tighter, not understanding what I mean.

“I did, Bria. The necklace is gone. It’s okay,” he whispers against my skin, planting a kiss on my shoulder.

I start to move, prying myself from his grip. I need to feel the air on my skin. I begin fumbling with the clasps, trying to move my hands to my back.

“Bria.” The tone of his voice is enough for me to turn around and drop my shaking hands.

His eyes are wide expanses of molten chocolate as he stares at me, watching my hands that now rest at my sides. My breaths are coming in heaves, and I look down to see more shadows swirling around my fingers again, darkness licking up the length of them and turning them black, creeping up my palms.

There is nowhere for it to go. I stoked the fire with my rage, built and built the storm of energy within me, and there is no release for it.

My body isn’t used to this. I’ve practiced and perfected my magic for years, always releasing it when I need to, even in small amounts.

But I used it in the cold, where I could cool my body easily if needed by just tossing open a window and breathing in the frigid air.

This heat, the pain, the fury, are all working against me.

I could throw the shadows, cast them outward from the doors to the balcony.

Let the beasts tear through the capital.

But what then? They would be seen. There is no way the king left me unwatched, unmonitored.

I cannot release them without causing more problems for myself.

And for Nimai. If they see what I’m capable of, they will take her, move her too far for me to ever rescue her.

My hands fly back to my chest at the thought.

I can’t let that happen. The shadows lick my skin, bands curling around my now black fingers and up my arms. I suck in, gulping down more air, heaving breaths in and out, and grab the side of the door to steady myself.

Panic is coursing through me along with the magic.

I feel trapped inside this dress. And inside my own body.

Evander moves quicker than I even realize.

He’s behind me again, and he tears at the back of the gown, yanking at the buttons and clasps until they spring free.

He pulls it down over my arms until the dress falls in a pool of ebony and silver at my feet.

I step out of it, gasping as the humid wind whips around me, dancing along my skin.

He stays close. His hands circle my waist again, meeting bare skin. Anywhere his skin touches mine, the burning seems to subside. His fingers pull the heat from my body, washing it away and replacing it with an entirely different kind of heat, a pleasant burn that radiates through me.

I spin myself around in his grasp and grab at his tunic, frantic.

His eyes widen but he gathers what I’m trying to do and tugs it over his head, letting it fall to the floor beside my gown.

His eyes darken and his gaze wanders over my exposed body, my lower half barely covered in the underwear the women gave me to wear with the gown.

The dagger is still sheathed along my thigh and the bodice had been tight enough to not need any additional support, leaving me all too aware of how bare I am to him.

My entire body tenses from his gaze, and I want him. I want his hands all over me, to calm the blazing heat. I want to feel his touch not just to cool me, but to light me afire again.

He cocks his head to the side, trying to determine if it’s the magic coursing through my veins that’s causing the shift in my demeanor or my desire for him.

“Bria, are—” He starts to speak but I’m already on my toes, pressing my mouth into his.

His lips part instantly, and my tongue slides inside. He grasps the back of my neck with his hand, his fingers curling into my hair. I still feel wildly out of control of my magic. I still need an outlet, a release from it. But this need for release is different. This is about us.

It feels as if he’s drinking my energy, one mouthful at a time.

I flatten my body against his, my hardened nipples dragging along his chest, digging my fingers into his back and the bands of muscles stretching along him.

He doesn’t flinch, even with my heated touch.

It never seems to affect him. His body absorbs the heat, draws it from me.

The kiss is forceful—powerful, even. His hands move to grasp my thighs, his fingers gripping into the flesh of my ass as he lifts me against him.

I wrap my legs around his waist, my tongue still searching his mouth.

My arms circle his neck, tangling in his hair and pulling him into me, needing more.

I tug his lip gently with my teeth before diving my tongue back into him and he groans into my mouth.

Gripping me tighter, he walks toward the bed.

For a second, I pause, thinking he’s going to lower me down, but he turns instead, sitting us down on the edge.

I land directly in his lap. I jerk my head back and am met with an intensity, a need in his eyes.

That hunger again. He moves his hands to grab the sides of my hips and I sink into him, grinding my body against his.

A soft moan slips past my lips when I feel him through the fabric, the length of his cock hard and ready against me.

But against me isn’t enough right now. I want to feel him inside of me, needing to rid myself of the fabric barrier of his pants, knowing my body is already slick with need for him.