Page 54 of Death of the Glass Angel (Apotheosis #1)
Clumsily dropping her drink onto the nightstand, Janus leaned forward and wrapped her arms around Talon, and though he tensed, she held firm until she felt him relax. And she did not intend to let go.
She would avert Alfaris’ fate. She would protect Talon, instead.
* * *
Des lay in bed, staring at the unlit chandelier as she groggily came to her senses, straining to remember how she arrived in such a situation. She glanced at Talon, who slept soundly beside her, one arm twisted under the pillow at an uncomfortable angle.
Her attention next fell on the empty bottle of liquor and the drained glasses on the nightstand. Ah. So, that was why Janus’s memories were not entirely clear. And presumably why Talon had not found his way back to his bed.
Glancing between the locked door and the pale dawn streaming through the window, Des troubled over what to do.
Did she wake him? Or should she roll over and let him make the first move?
Flipping on her side, Des squeezed her eyes shut. She had decided against interfering in Janus’ life, against leading her own.
A perfect opportunity had presented itself in the stillness of the mountain pass. But Talon had pulled away. Maybe Des’ feelings were one-sided.
Talon sat bolt upright beside her, pausing to take in his surroundings. He mumbled a curse when he noticed the empty bottles of liquor.
“Finally,” Des mumbled. “I didn’t realize songbirds slept so heavily.”
Maybe she should have remained silent. Talon’s demeanor shifted when he heard Des’s sharp tongue.
He slid closer to her, placing a hand on her hip. “Says the woman who drank just as much. Besides, dawn’s only just arrived. I’d wager not a noble soul in the city is awake.”
“I am.”
“Yes, but you’re an exception. In every sense.”
Des rolled over. “What’s that supposed to-”
She trailed off when she noticed his messy hair and half-unbuttoned shirt.
Pretending was easy when using words. Janus shied away from the world, and Des clung to the shadows. She had never been this close to someone before.
Talon smirked. “See something you like, or did you just lose your voice?”
Swallowing, Des untied her tongue. “Why are you here? When you pulled away, before?”
Face falling, he trailed a finger across her cheek. “I’m not trying to seduce you. I don’t need—or want—to use you.”
“You do this kind of thing often, then?”
“Bed important women with loose lips?” His hands trailed down her neck before pulling away. “Yes. It’s just. . . part of the job.”
Des wasn’t sure what she felt. Jealousy, rage? Heartbreak that she’d been so foolish?
“We’ll part ways when this ball is done.” He said. “I didn’t want you to count yourself among them.”
Finding a scrap of confidence, Des sat up, forcing him to lean back. “I never would have. You’re delusional if you think I can be so easily seduced.”
Talon smiled. “Oh, forgive me, your highness. I dare not underestimate you again.”
Des looked down. “Well, it’s probably better this way. With how I’m. . .”
“You worry a broken mirror will fear your reflection.” He said softly. “But both of us are fractured, Des.”
They sat in silence, a hairsbreadth apart, hands laced under the sheets.
He exhaled, frustrated. “You have no idea how much I want to-”
“Then do it.”
Talon grabbed her hair and yanked her toward him, pressing his lips against hers. Her will crumbled. Throwing her hands around his neck, she ran her fingers through his hair.
His tongue slid into her mouth, deepening the kiss as he gently pushed her back down. The hand on her hip slipped beneath her nightgown, pushing the fabric above her thigh. His fingers traced across her skin, running up her thigh and the curve of her hip before landing on her stomach.
Des longed for control in every situation, whether on a pedestal or from the shadows. The tiny desire chimed at the back of her mind, drowned beneath the touch of his lips, the taste of his tongue, and the way her body shuddered beneath his touch as he brushed the swell of her breasts.
The bun at the nape of her neck came unwound, spilling black strands across the pillow. Talon’s mouth departed her lips and traced down her neck as he cupped her chin, fingers trailing down her jawline and across her collarbone before unlacing the bust of her dress.
A longing gasp escaped her as he reached her breasts and gently bit her nipple. Pushing her nightgown out of the way, his fingers slowly, agonizingly slowly, danced beneath her undergarments, brushing across her but never entering.
In her imagination, Des had presumed she would seduce a man by teasing him relentlessly until he fell to his knees and begged. Tomorrow, she would be ashamed of herself.
Pushing Talon’s hand aside, Des reached for his trousers, intent on ripping them off. The look of triumph in his eye would haunt her for days to come.
A heavy knock sounded at the door. “Janus! Get up. The ball’s tonight and we have much to do.” Raja called.
Talon pulled back. “Shit.” He hissed. “I’ll be flayed alive if they catch me here.” His eyes traced over her nearly naked body, committing it to memory.
“So will I,” Des breathed, heat pulsing in he core as she pulled her nightgown up. “Talon.” She called as he scrambled off the bed and grabbed his coat.
He paused, one hand on the window latch. “My lady?”
“I—you. . .” she stumbled over her words. “The story. You’ve never told me. . .”
A horrible, winning smile spread across his face. “I made you speechless?” His face grew serious. “It’s a tale from a life left behind. It might as well not exist.”
“But-”
“Save me a dance at the ball.” He winked and slipped outside.
Defeated, Des fell back on her bed. Countless emotions rushed through her, longing and disappointment chief among them.
The door flew open as Raja angrily stormed in, and Des held back the insult she wanted to fling.
The anger quickly diminished to sorrow. Talon was a songbird, not a noble or farm boy. Their paths would divert after the ball.
The certainty of their parting struck her for the first time.
Janus clung to the past, unable to say goodbye. And Des? She had never bid farewell before. She didn’t know how.