Page 53 of City of Snakes (Legends of Henosis #2)

Chapter 52

Krait

S ahlmkar was not my favorite city by any stretch of the imagination. But in a remote corner of the northern Sahlms was my most treasured place in the realm. I’d never shared it with anyone before.

Sybilla reluctantly took my hand, and I Shadowed us into the cavern behind the falls. We weren’t far from Sahlmkar, but the spot was impossible to reach on foot.

A natural spring had formed here amidst the dry lands to create a curtain of water flowing down into a crystal pool. It later split off into smaller streams that headed toward the volcanic shores.

Water cascaded off the rich red rock above us. I released Sybilla’s hand before setting down the bedrolls and unraveling them there in the cavern, where we’d sleep cooled by the mist and breeze.

Not many ever wandered toward the volcanic shores. I’d discovered this place by chance centuries ago. Since having found it, when in Sahlmkar, I rarely slept in the flat. Instead, I found solace in the head-clearing sounds of rushing water.

Sybilla’s lips parted. As she dipped her hand into the waterfall, her eyes glistened. “We’re staying here?” An edge of excitement leaked into her voice.

Even with the mud coating her cheeks, she was a beautiful sight, standing there, appreciating one of the places I treasured.

“Is this acceptable accommodation for a Queen?” It only then occurred to me—what if she hated this gesture?

She glanced over her shoulder and shrugged. “I’m not sure I know what’s acceptable anymore.”

I couldn’t tell if there was insinuation in her voice.

“You seemed to have two bedrolls ready quite quickly.”

I smirked. “I may have prepared ahead.”

She stared at me with skepticism.

A nervous flutter formed in my chest. Maybe I’d miscalculated how angry she was. I added, “It’s my favorite place in the realm. Usually, I sleep on the ground, but I figured you might want a bedroll and pillow. A bit more comfortable.”

Her posture softened as she scanned my face. “Are you trying to court me, Darvanda?”

No. Yes.

I scoffed back, “I have no idea what you mean.” I fought the way my lips wanted to pull up at the sides. Rubbing my chin, I observed her closely.

Her hands were on her hips, now with only a thin white layer of fabric hugging them. It took all my restraint not to cross the cavern, replace her fingers with mine and dig into the supple skin that she was drawing my attention to.

I felt like a fumbling boy without any idea of what to do with my hands, so I ran them through my hair. She kept staring at me unnervingly.

All I knew for sure was that no matter what we faced next, I did not want to move forward with her continuing to hate me. Not when I’d grown so sure that I’d never be able to give her up.

From the satchel, I retrieved a lantern and a bar of lilac soap—her preferred fragrance. My preferred scent.

Her arms fell to her sides, and her expression softened. “You are, aren’t you?”

“Sources, does it really matter?” I took a deep breath. “If you’d like to not smell like a swamp, come this way. And be careful on the rocks—they can be slick.” I led her out of the cavern, avoiding her attempts at eye contact.

The moonlight guided us out onto the rocky banks of the spring, and its glow reflected off the water. A small canyon of red rock surrounded the area—a perfect, private oasis. As we stepped around the natural pool, I whispered a Brennac charm to light the lantern and then set it down.

“You can go first. I’ll give you some privacy.” I reached out to hand her the soap.

She stared at my outstretched hand. The rise and fall of her chest grew more erratic. Then, instead of taking the soap, she took my wrist and pulled me toward the spring.

“What are you doing?”

“Making sure that you bathe too,” she answered. She had me guessing whether I was hearing things.

“Why?” I asked as the thrill of being tugged into the water behind her sent a cool shiver down my spine.

“Because you smell like a swamp, too.” She looked at me over her shoulder and added, “And I haven’t decided whether I want to fuck you or filet you tonight. I’m leaning a certain direction—despite my better judgment.”

Thanking whatever miracle had her contemplating the idea, I stifled a laugh as she dragged me deeper into the spring. It was a shallow pool, so I did not worry about my newfound discovery of her lack of swimming skills.

As though hearing me, she answered, “And also what if I’m to drown without you to save me again?”

I shook my head. “It is shallow.”

“I know—you’re thinking loudly and doing little to ward me.”

When she hit breast-high water, she dropped my wrist and dipped her head back to submerge her hair. She spent some time wiping the mud from her face.

When she went beneath the surface, I pushed away the image of her being pulled into the river’s current earlier. My arms itched to reach out and lift her.

She popped her head back up a few steps closer to me.

To distract myself, I used the soap to clean the lingering mud and grime of travel from my arms.

“This might be my new favorite place, too,” she said as she looked up at the waterfall. The way the water slid over her lips, the way her hair stuck to her neck, left me breathless.

“May I?” I asked, holding out the soap again. This time, she raised a brow.

She returned my question with some of her own. “You’re going to bathe me? Isn’t that a little intimate for someone who considers me so unbearable?”

“Yes—if you’ll let me. And if anyone is the unbearable one, it is not you.”

Sybilla pouted. “Well, it isn’t any fun to rib you if you’re going to be self-deprecating about it.”

I expected her to move away or decline my offer, but instead, she swayed closer in the water and faced away from me so I could begin with her hair. I lathered the soap between my hands. As my fingers worked against her scalp, she hummed and leaned into me, her back pressed to my front. I swallowed hard and let my hand trail along her neck before running the soap down her shoulder, pushing down the sleeve of her undergarments.

She lowered to rinse her hair, and her body slipped down mine, causing me to stifle a groan. When she emerged, she lifted her arms and slipped her top undergarment over her head.

She said, “You can’t properly bathe while clothed.” My breath caught as she shimmied out of the bottoms and let them float toward the banks.

When she turned toward me, the sight of her tightened nipples at the water’s surface drew my attention.

“I suppose you’re right,” I mustered. “I might need assistance.” I didn’t. But the words sparked interest in her eyes.

“Courting me. Asking for my help. Who is this new man?” Her fingers trailed down my torso to find the waist of my underbreeches. She pushed down, and my already hardened length was freed, brushing her hip.

“Tell me again everything you hate about me,” she whispered as I kicked the remaining layer of clothing off between us, not caring if it was lost to the spring.

I shook my head. “There is nothing that I hate about you. It’s the most infuriating thing.”

When she looked up at me, I did not let my memories squash my hope.