Page 2 of Crown of Betrayal and Blood (Dragons of Tirene #3)

Chapter Two

The air shivers, and heat builds inside me. As my eyes struggle to adjust to the darkness, magic surges in my veins and boils to the surface.

The loose hold on my wrist informs me of my attacker’s whereabouts. With a sharp movement, I jerk free and spirit my wings away. I don’t need them weighing me down in a fight.

In the dimness, I can barely make out the silhouette of my attacker.

My assailant is tall. Very tall.

Flames gather at my fingertips right as the familiar scent of leather and soap and spice hits my nose.

A deep voice speaks in a husky tone. “Gods, you’re as hot and fiery as ever.”

Relief snuffs out my fire, and the tension leaks from my muscles. “Ziva’s flames, Sterling, I nearly incinerated you!”

I place my palm against his sculpted chest and push, irritation at being snuck up on flaring.

Prince Knox Sterling Barda grabs my hand and presses a soft kiss to my knuckles, then pulls me flush against him. The heat from my flames recedes, settling lower in my body. I swallow hard as the darkness of the room shifts from danger to desire.

A flash of white teeth gleams as my eyes start to adjust, and his low, velvety laugh wraps around me. “Don’t tell me you didn’t recognize my touch. I’d know yours anywhere, even if I were half dead or blindfolded in a crowd of thousands. The gods themselves couldn’t fool me.”

“Let’s not tempt fate.”

His lips trail up my neck to my ear. “I need you.”

All traces of my irritation with the crown prince of Tirene dissipate.

Lust sparks to life between us, my flame to his frost. Over the last several days, we’ve come together every chance we’ve had. Since we don’t need to sneak around anymore, there’ve been plenty of opportunities. At night, anyway. Perhaps we’re using our passion as a shield against sorrow and concern for the future.

But I’m more than okay with that.

His hands map my skin with a lover’s precision, his motions betraying the hunger neither of us wishes to tame.

There’s no hesitation, no guilt, no self-doubt when we’re together now.

No more worry that someone is going to walk in on us. That we’ll be discovered and punished. Though we haven’t officially announced our relationship, we also haven’t bothered to keep it a secret since Jasper’s death.

With a sharp inhale, I try to keep my thoughts straight as his talented fingers play havoc with my senses. “You need to stop sneaking up and grabbing me like this. I’m going to end up burning you one of these days. Or stabbing you. Or?—”

“I love it when you talk vicious.” He raises my skirts higher, exposing me. “It makes me want you more than I already do, which should be impossible.”

Heat rises to my cheeks. “There’s got to be something wrong with you.”

One side of his mouth quirks up. “I never claimed there wasn’t.”

Shudders rack my body as Sterling trails his hands down to the backs of my thighs. He lifts me into the air, and my legs automatically wrap around his waist.

Growing need has me arching my back, pressing my softness against his hardness.

“Here?” I manage between breaths, though it’s less a question and more an acknowledgment of our reckless abandon. “What if someone finds us?”

I may not have to fear Jasper discovering our relationship and throwing me in a prison cell again, but I still don’t want my actions to cast the crown prince of Tirene in a bad light.

“Is that your way of telling me to stop?” Sterling sways his hips, positioning himself between my thighs.

“No.” I slide my left hand between us and wrap my fingers around him through the fabric of his pants. I tighten my grip slightly, causing his breath to rumble in his chest. “I just. Well…”

I don’t even know what to say. How to express everything that’s going on in my head. So much has happened lately, and we have a lot to figure out.

Something not aboveboard is going on with Xenon, the king of Aclaris. His terrifying behavior at the Flighthaven Academy trial ended in multiple deaths. Then, I was kidnapped and brought to Tirene against my will, only to discover I’m Tirenese, and a dragoncaller at that. Shortly after my arrival in this kingdom, entire herds of animals and flocks of birds began to die with no apparent cause.

A week ago, we weathered a brutal attack on the palace grounds…not from humans but drachen.

Drachen. Ancient, evil creatures supposedly defeated centuries ago. Now they’re back, and no one has any idea why, or knows how to defeat them.

Lately, I’ve had difficulty shutting off my brain.

“Stop fretting.” Sterling’s hand covers mine. “And don’t try to deny it, because I can practically see the wheels spinning in your head. Our problems will still be waiting for us when we step out of this room. For a few minutes, I want you to forget about everything. Everything but us.” He kisses the corner of my mouth. “Can you do that for me?”

I nod, wondering what I ever did to deserve a love like this.

When he turns my hand away from him, I go still with shock. That is, until he presses my hand against my own flesh and every worry melts away.

Oh dear gods. This man.

“Mine.” His fingers graze over the backs of mine, directing them as they caress and slip inside me. “You’re all mine, every incredible inch of you. I want you to feel what I feel when I touch you. How fucking perfect you are.”

If his words weren’t enough to arouse me, his manipulation of my fingers against me certainly is. He knows my body well and plays it like a talented musician. Even in the dark, without feeling anything other than the backs of my fingers, he knows exactly what to do, where to touch.

With just a few strokes, my fingers are wet.

My eyes have adjusted to the dimness enough to tell when his dark eyes light up with that spark that’s reserved just for me. I study him as my fingers find the perfect spot under his guidance. Shivers race over my body, and I wrap my other hand around his neck for support as my knees start to buckle.

He pushes closer, pinning me against the wall as pleasure builds inside me. My head falls back, and I shift my hips, unable to keep still under his ministrations. Under mine.

He matches my movements.

My right hand tangles in his hair, searching for something to grasp.

“Sterling.” His name is a moan pulled from my throat.

“Yes.” He moves his fingers faster, gaze focused on me as I hit that edge. “Just like that. That’s the way you like it.”

A whimper of pleasure escapes me. I clench my jaw to keep from screaming as he pushes me over the edge, leaving me to fall alone while he holds me tight.

As soon as the tide recedes, I crave more.

It’s not enough to go alone. I hunger for the sounds, the movements he makes when he joins me. When he says my name like a benediction.

He’s so tantalizingly close to me, yet I still haven’t even gotten to kiss him. I pour heat into my hand on the back of his neck, prompting him to flinch away in reflex. As he does, I slide down him until my feet hit the floor and capture his lips with mine.

“Oh, that’s playing dirty,” he whispers against my lips.

I draw his lower lip into my mouth, not releasing it until he groans. “And what you did isn’t?”

“Never said it wasn’t, love.”

“Fair enough.” Running my hands down his chest, I stroke the hard planes of his muscles covered by warm skin. I continue my exploration down his flat abdomen and hook a thumb inside the waist of his trousers.

“If you want me out of my clothes, all you have to do is ask.” The sound of his pants hitting the floor has me gasping. He pulls my hand away, pinning it against the wall behind me.

“Didn’t know I needed to ask.” Bracing against the wall and trusting him to support me, I jump, wrapping my legs around him once more.

Sterling, ready for such an action, steps forward. It takes some maneuvering, but soon I’m right where I want to be, clinging to him tight with both legs, my right arm draped around his shoulders.

As I ride him, he captures my left hand, then sucks my fingers.

Tasting me.

“Sterling,” I gasp, his name a talisman against the encroaching dread of what awaits us beyond these walls.

He answers with a primal growl that speaks of protection and possession.

Out there, in front of the court and the royal council, I’m forced to call him Crown Prince Knox. In this fractured instant we stole for ourselves, we are just Lark and Sterling.

Nothing more, nothing less.

“More.” He pulls back, releasing my fingers from his mouth. “Why is it that the more I have you, the more I want you? This craving inside me only grows.”

“I—”

His mouth crushes against mine.

I can only answer with my body as his tongue battles mine. With every muscle, every motion, every breath, I show him I feel the same way. He’s a powerful drug, one I’m powerless to resist, and I use my entire body to continue clinging to him as tightly as I can.

He holds nothing back, giving me everything he has, and I gladly take him. All of him.

Matching his rhythm, I demand more and more until I hit my limit. His mouth muffles my cries when I reach the pinnacle again, and I tunnel my fingers through his silky hair while he pours himself into me. Embracing each other, we tumble over the cliff together.

Languid and spent, I allow my legs to sag. He catches me, and we slide down against the wall until I’m sitting in his lap, sprawled out in the dark in a room I have never seen before.

Somewhere nearby, a horde of nobles and council members are probably wondering where their prince is.

I start giggling. “We really should have more restraint than this. What is this room even used for? It’s not very big. Is someone going to come in here and catch us?”

He releases a throaty laugh, leaning back far enough for me to catch my breath. “I’m the crown prince. Technically, they’re all mine.”

With the curtains pulled shut to block the sun, only the light beneath the door pierces the gloom, rendering him a shadowy figure as he stretches his arms wide to encompass the space.

Ignoring his declaration of ownership, I push myself up and off of him. “And I’m the Aclaris noble who is suddenly spending too much time with the still grieving Crown Prince Knox.”

He flinches. “So you’ve heard the rumors. I hoped to squash those before they reached your ears.”

I rise, then reach down to help him stand. His hand, calloused from years of training and fighting, clasps mine with a gentleness that belies their capacity for violence. “That would be tough considering we’ve gathered with nobles, royal council members, and countless other people of Tirene daily for the last several days. Rumors fly faster than dragons here.”

“And are a hundred times more destructive.”

My afterglow dims as I watch him refasten his trousers with a creased brow.

“Talk to me.” My voice is a soft command, not quite an order, but more than a plea.

Holding up a finger, I produce a flame to give us enough light to see by. I guide him to a low couch and pull him along with me. There’s an antique chandelier above it, and I stretch the flame to light several wicks.

When Sterling hesitates, I take the opportunity to drink in the sight of him.

His glossy raven hair tumbles like a waterfall to his shoulders, a stark contrast to the all-white mourning attire he wears. The fitted, long-sleeved shirt does nothing to hide the rippling muscles in his arms and chest. Trying for nonchalance, I tilt my head up as my gaze sweeps over his face. Bronze skin. Strong features. High cheekbones, square jaw, full lips.

Beautiful. This man is downright beautiful. The image of a god.

When he still doesn’t answer, I reach for him, tracing the faint scar on the hairline of his jaw. He sucks in a breath.

“I’m not…this isn’t me.” He makes another sweeping gesture, encompassing the grandeur of the suddenly visible room. “I’ve been trained to serve my kingdom by following orders. To fight. To survive.”

His gaze drifts as if he’s haunted by ghosts of a past spent in enemy lands, searching for me on his brother’s command.

“And now you must lead.” My heart aches for him. “Despite what you say, you’re good at leading. The people love and respect you. And you’re not alone in this.”

“No?” His eyes seek an answer in mine, emphasizing the specter of doubt in the back of his mind.

“Never.” I cup his cheek, willing him to believe it. Jasper’s last words claw at my mind— Marry Lark —but I shove them aside. This isn’t the time for prophecy or politics. It’s a moment for comfort, for human connection.

A knock fractures the quiet. Once, twice, three times.

“Your Highness? The masses pine for their beloved prince. Shall I tell them you’re attending to a matter that requires your very personal assistance, and you’ll be with them shortly once you’ve finished fulfilling those responsibilities?”

Agnar’s mirth-drenched voice seeps through the wood.

Sterling snorts at the obvious innuendos. “Why do I feel like you just insulted your beloved prince’s endurance?”

“Why, I’m sure I don’t know, oh exalted one,” Agnar quips.

Giggling, I finish straightening my gown and extend my wings. “Come in, Agnar.”

Guess our alone time is over.