Page 29 of Court of Secrets and Flames (Dragons of Tirene #2)

Chapter Twenty-Nine

For seconds, or maybe minutes, I sprawl out on the soft earth, Knox’s weight a welcome blanket. We lie there entwined, panting, hearts drumming a wild beat.

“Look at us.” Knox spirits his wings away and rolls off me, propping himself on his side. “We’re filthy.”

“I like getting dirty with you.”

He drops a kiss on my forehead, then the tip of my nose. “Keep saying things like that, and we’ll go for round two.”

“Mmm.” I shift around to face him and notice for the first time how cold the ground is from the water soaked into it. “A tempting offer.”

Despite being covered in mud, I don’t want to get up. I want to revel in this feeling of utter abandonment and freedom.

No ridiculous dresses. No dinners or walks with the king. No guards lurking around every corner. No one watching my every move.

“I bet the shallows are plenty warm. We could get cleaned up in the surf.”

And I can heat the water. “Okay. If we must.” I lift one hand. “Help me up?”

“Always.” He takes my hand and pulls me to my feet.

With his trousers still around his ankles, hobbling him, the movement isn’t the least bit graceful.

As soon as I’m upright, I press my hand against his chest. “Tag. You’re it.”

I free my hand and race for the water, laughing at him over my shoulder.

“Such a conniving little cheater.” Mock indignation blooms over his face, and he struggles to kick his feet free of his clothes.

The waves slither in to meet me, and I chase them back out to the depths. Once the water is up to my knees, I can hear him splashing behind me, catching up. Knowing I can’t outrun him, I dive into the cool water. Using his tactic from earlier, I glide out of his reach.

But not far enough.

Strong arms wrap around me and drag me from the sea. Water streaming down my face from my soaked hair, I shake my head. He yelps as droplets splatter his chest but doesn’t let go.

He pulls me against him, then lowers me. The water here is only waist deep.

“Oh no.” He wags a finger at me. “You’re not getting away until you’re nice and clean again.” His wings come out and curl around us.

“Oh.” I coast a hand down his slick chest. “Are you going to bathe me?”

“It would be my pleasure, Duchess.” He dips his hands into the sea and brings them to my shoulders, rinsing the mud from my skin.

His touch is tender, but fire smolders in his gaze. One handful at a time, he removes all the grime from my body, even the streak he left in my hair. His fingertips work over my scalp, turning my muscles languid.

“You’re up.” I call gentle fire to my palms, heating the water as I return the favor. My hands roam over his chest and neck, tracing the lines of muscle and bone.

For a moment, we’re simply two souls unburdened by crowns or conflicts, washed clean by salt and water. As soon as I’ve cleaned his wings, he disperses them, causing the water to splash as they disappear. I lean into him, my body melting into his as I reach for the back of his neck and hair.

The movement elicits a deep groan from him.

Pressing my breasts against his neck and upper chest, I reach over his shoulders. I scrub the mud from his back, my fingers working into his muscles with a tenderness that belies the ferocity of prior moments. He arches into my touch, and I lean forward to nip at his ear, tasting the brine clinging to his skin.

Another low moan escapes him. The vibration rumbles against my lips, and I want to catch it between my teeth and hold it captive.

“I don’t want this to end.”

“Neither do I. This is what life should feel like. Out here.” The timbre of his voice is low and intimate. “It’s as if I can finally breathe without the weight of the crown or its expectations.”

I pause, fixing my gaze upon him, inspecting the lines that speak of joy and hardship in equal measure. Is this the unmasked visage of the man I know as Knox, as Sterling, or is this yet another facade? Beneath the warmth of his skin, what truth lies hidden?

“Knox…” The waves swallow my whisper.

“Please, call me Sterling.” His eyes search mine as if he can see through to my inner turmoil. “Away from the palace…here, I’m just Sterling, not Prince Knox.”

His confession hangs between us, and I can’t help but wonder. Does he wear his heart on his sleeve now, or is this a ploy crafted with the same cunning he wields within the palace walls? Why such need for my desire when his bed could host a thousand others?

He senses the shift in my thoughts, the withdrawal of my mind from the present. With a swift motion, his strong arms ensnare me in an embrace that leaves no room for doubt of his immediate desires. His arousal presses against the inside of my thigh, a silent testament to his hunger.

“Where did you wander off to?” His lips trace a fiery path along my neck, delivering a jolt of pleasure down my spine.

“I’m right here.”

I surrender to the sensation. Now is not the time for deeper questions. Whoever this man is, we have an undeniable connection. One I do not want to sunder. I don’t know when the time will be right to ask him who he really is without the orders, the sigil, and the disguises. Or if it ever will.

But today, I want to just feel what we have between us. For now, it’s enough.

No thinking. No worrying.

His teeth graze my collarbone, igniting a heat that flames through my veins. I find myself caring less about the why.

“Then show me.” The words are a raspy challenge against the shell of my ear.

And for a fleeting moment, beneath the vast expanse of the sky and the watchful eyes of the ocean, I let go of the questions haunting my mind, allowing the tide of his desire to sweep me away once more. Every part of me yearns for every part of him.

He lowers us to a sitting position as I face him, the water up to our chests.

I wrap my legs around his waist, my buoyancy keeping me just above him. The water laps at our entwined bodies while I position myself. I want to drape my entire body around him, to take him inside me and hold him there. For a second, I stay floating, teasing us both as he slides just at my entrance, barely touching.

The sky is a canvas of fading light, the ocean a rhythmic song, but neither holds my attention like his eyes do. They’re a deep, rich brown, shining with a longing that mirrors my own.

He’s beautiful in his rawness, stripped of armor and title, and for right now, he’s mine.

“Come here.” His low growl stirs the waves within me.

My magic stirs as well. I’ve held it back, keeping the heat along my skin. The salt water swirls around us. His hands slide up my thighs, strong and certain, and press me down. I lower myself onto him, the connection drawing a gasp from my lips. His hips lift to meet mine.

“Perfect.” He lowers his mouth, lips brushing against mine. “You’re so fucking perfect for me. In every possible way.”

My heart sings at his praise. “Sterling.”

“Say it again.” Though he issues a command, his tone holds a plea.

I press a featherlight kiss against his mouth. “Sterling.”

A shudder racks his body, and I thrill at the power granted to me by a single word.

His name on my lips possesses power, a spell woven through the air that binds us together. With each movement, I push away the lingering doubts. This is the man I’ve chosen. The one here with me now. In this space, where water meets land, we exist only for the pleasure we give each other.

His grip tightens, fingers digging into the soft flesh of my hips, urging me on. I rise and fall with the ebb and flow of the tide. My hair cascades down my back like dark seaweed dancing in the current. The sound of the ocean fades against the pounding of my heart, the only drumbeat to which we move.

My nails score his back, the slow drag doing nothing to relieve the mounting tension. I rock my hips, bringing us closer over and over again.

“Gods, Lark.” He groans, and the world narrows down to the intensity in his gaze.

I cup his face in my hands, kissing the tip of his nose like he’d done to me. “Is this real?”

“Nothing is more real than this.” The sincerity in his voice anchors me to the current moment. His eyes trap mine, and I know nothing in this world will ever feel as intimate as the sensation of our entwined bodies moving together.

After we find release together, I collapse into his arms to the crescendo of waves crashing upon the shore. For a long while, we float in the blissful aftermath.

He brushes the hair from my face. “Thank you.”

“For?”

“For trusting me…with yourself.”

No matter what comes, this day—this moment—will be etched into my soul.

And for a few more minutes, I allow myself to bask in him, to hold him close against the tides of uncertainty that await us beyond the water’s edge.

“Back to the gilded cage.” I sigh, my breath hot enough to mist in the cooling air.

The sun dips low, painting the reeds in hues of fire and gold. Sterling mutters beside me, his voice a low rumble of distaste for the palace’s confines. I lace my boots tighter, fingers working against the stiff leather.

“Do you really think of the palace as a cage?” The undercurrent of longing isn’t lost on me. “I still spend some of my nights in a canvas tent with the rest of the soldiers. I don’t even get to bunk with the king’s guards.”

Knox’s complaint strikes me as incredibly strange, and I ignore his question in search of my own answers. “You’re the prince of Tirene. Are you trying to tell me that you don’t have a room in the palace?”

He snorts. “Oh, I have a suite. But sometimes I feel like the maids spend more time there than I do. Hell, even Agnar and Blair do. Jasper wants me to devote my time to ‘the troops in the field’ to make sure they’re ready in case of invasion. We’re always running drills. Training. At times, Agnar stays at the palace to tend to my responsibilities there. And Blair runs back and forth between us, delivering reports.”

“Do you enjoy it? Sleeping in a tent, I mean. The camaraderie of being with the soldiers.”

A smile softens his mouth. “I do. It’s…freeing. Don’t get me wrong. The luxuries of palace life are nice. Warm baths. Hot food. A soft bed. But it’s so much simpler out there. Sometimes I almost forget my position…my responsibilities.”

I pause, enjoying the view across the marsh. Once, as a child, I’d yearned for the marble majesty of the king’s castle in Aclaris. Not for the luxury which would surpass everything I’d ever known, but for the sheer number of nobles and other people who attended court at the castle.

Locked in my mother’s estate, all I dreamed about was the freedom to get out and form connections with other people my age. Although I loved my sister, I wanted to forge other friendships too.

I’d stare out the window and daydream about being presented at court. It was always a big to-do for the noble families. I’d walk in, a bit nervous, but with my chin held high. There, I’d meet my new best friend. Maybe two. I even fantasized of finding a man to fall in love with.

Then the two of us would travel the world together, and he could show me all the things I’d never seen. I would write my new best friends about our adventures, and they would be happy for me. We’d grow old together, have our own families, and meet up at every ball, holy day, and event at the castle. And I’d never be alone or cast aside again.

Currently, it’s Tirene’s looming silhouette that beckons, a palace even grander than King Xenon’s, where all the inhabitants want to know me. Where I have a king and a prince who both desire me for different reasons. Nobles gossip about me and claim they’re glad I’m there.

But it’s only to use me.

And, ever since landing in the palace courtyard, I’ve frequently mulled over how to escape.

Not too long ago, I dreamed of dragons, of riding on their powerful backs through boundless skies. Now, I need only think the thought and my own wings unfurl, a magnificent span of feathers catching the twilight. I can fly up to meet the dragons and alight onto their backs midflight. I flex the muscles at my back. My wings respond, arching with newfound strength.

Life has twisted my childhood dreams into something unrecognizable.

“Nothing turned out the way I thought it would.” Sterling’s words mimic my thoughts so perfectly that I pivot toward him. He’s staring at me as if he’s trying to decipher a complex ancient language. His own wings snap open with an elegant flare that mirrors mine.

“No.”

What does he mean by that? His brother? The position he holds in the palace?

Us?

Did Sterling have some expectation of what we would become after he kidnapped me? Did he even think of it as an abduction? As my wings proved, I am Tirenese. According to Mother, King Xenon had me stolen from my biological parents. Not King Jasper.

Sterling may have viewed taking me away from Aclaris as saving me…

“Shall we then?” He holds his hand out, and without thinking, I accept it.

Together we leap, taking to the sky in one fluid motion, the earth falling away beneath us. The rush of air fills my ears, a roaring silence that speaks of freedom. Unexpectedly, Sterling’s arms encircle me, drawing me close to his chest.

His wings beat in powerful strokes, enveloping us both in a cocoon of warmth and intimacy. I tuck my own wings, surrendering to his embrace, my body still thrumming from our recent closeness on the marsh below. As he’s done so before, I know he can keep us in the air on his own. And soon enough, we will have to separate so no one sees us.

In silence, we glide through the fading light, the purples and oranges of the sunset wrapping around us like a lover’s shawl. Below, the world fades slowly to shadow, but up here with Sterling, time stretches, elastic and indulgent. In these precious minutes before duty beckons, we are but two souls entwined.

My mind wanders, remembering everything he’s said and done, both at Flighthaven and here in Tirene. His concern for me when I told him about my mother…how she’d all but kept me under lock and key. The way he’s tried over and over to protect me. How he went with me when I attempted to sneak out of Flighthaven to give Royce money for the food pantry. Saved me when I burned my chambers and almost died from smoke inhalation. Do I trust him, though? Completely?

I know he only went to Flighthaven to find me. But in his eyes, was I a kidnapped Tirenese who needed to be rescued from enemy territory? A little strange to think of that way, but from his perspective, it could make sense.

The palace slowly comes into view. The tall spires pierce the evening sky, reminding me of the intricate web of politics and power held within its walls. But in the shelter of Sterling’s wings, I push away thoughts of betrayal and loss, focusing instead on the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against my spine.

“Let’s circle once more.” I’m reluctant to break the spell. And I’ve almost built up enough courage to ask him. Did he think he was freeing me from Aclaris when he stole me away? From my mother?

“Anything you want.” We ascend higher, spiraling upward as the day’s last light slips from the horizon. The masks we’re forced to wear in front of others are put off for at least another few minutes.

For these moments, we’re just Lark and Sterling, flying free, untethered by the weight of crowns and kingdoms below.

The spires knife through the dusk, splintering twilight’s glow into sharp edges. I need to ask him before we land and can be overheard, but the words wither on my lips as panic surges. A tidal wave crashing over the fragile barrier of my composure.

Sterling’s arms, moments ago a sanctuary I reveled in, have suddenly become a prison from which I must escape.

“Sterling.” My gasp comes out less as his name and more as a choked plea for help. My heart pounds a drumbeat of terror, a cadence that drowns out all reason. I need to run. To escape.

He tightens his grip, his concern palpable, but the whisper of his voice barely reaches me. “Lark? What’s wrong?”

His words fade into the clamor of dread that assaults my ears. It’s as if the very air is thick with trepidation, squeezing the breath from me, choking me with the scent of impending doom.