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“I’m not engaged,” I say. “I’m betrothed.”

“And that’s supposed to make a difference?” she asks, crossing her arms.

“Yes. They’re not the same thing, at least to fae.

Lots of us are betrothed at birth—it’s a promise between families, encouraging the children to associate in the hopes that they’ll grow fond of each other.

The match is only confirmed when the couple come of age and decide to get engaged.

Even then, we have more powerful, complicated steps we have to take for a couple to be truly bound. ”

“Great, so this Lady Naia is just someone you’ve grown up thinking you’re probably going to marry one day,” she says.

“That maybe I’d marry. But to be honest, I’ve never put much thought into it. I’ve not spent much time in Lavail since the war. I’ve barely seen her.”

“So little that you conveniently forgot to mention the arrangement at all,” she points out.

I thought perhaps after I explained the betrothal wasn’t that serious, and certainly wasn’t any doing of mine, she’d relent a little. The fact she isn’t appeased is intriguing. Could there be some jealousy at play here?

I take a step toward her, running my hand along the back of the couch positioned between us.

“I must say, it’s interesting that you care so much about who I am or am not tied to.”

Delicious color rises to her cheeks, and I know I’ve succeeded in riling her.

“I only care because you made me into the other woman,” she shoots back, ice in every word. “I wouldn’t ever get involved with a person who was committed to someone else. And because you lied to me about that, like you’ve done about so much else, I end up looking like a terrible person.”

“And I wouldn’t have gotten involved with you if the arrangement with Lady Naia was anything more than an idea dreamt up by our parents when I was just a baby, over a century ago,” I say, taking another step toward her.

She shakes her head, backing away, but she doesn’t have far to go before her heels hit the wall.

“How can I believe that? Every time I start to think I can trust you, I find out another thing you’ve been dishonest about.”

“Maybe you’re right,” I say. I close the gap between us, until her back’s pressed against the wall, and she’s staring up at me. I lean my face down and see her eyes flick to my mouth. I smile, satisfied by the way her breath hitches at our closeness.

“Even if the betrothal meant something—which it doesn’t—I think I still would’ve had you, still would’ve tasted you in that barn, and still would’ve taken you until you screamed in Hallowbane.

” I run my fingers along her jaw, my voice dropping a few octaves.

“Because I wouldn’t have been able to stop myself, not when every look from you sets me on fire.

When every word from those pretty lips has me desperate to make you mine. ”

“I’m not yours,” she says, but it comes out as barely a whisper. Her body shifts until I feel it press along the full length of my body, the soft curves of her body embracing my hard angles snaps the last of my restraint.

I capture her lips in a searing kiss, tilting her chin upward, coaxing her mouth open further so I can claim her with my tongue, stroking and flicking until she hums with delight. It is many minutes later, when her lips are swollen and her chest rising with heavy breaths, that I release her.

“Before you go calling me a liar, why don’t you start being honest with yourself, Ana? You wanted me then. You still want me now. And only your own stubbornness is stopping you from having exactly what you want.”

I loosen the fastening of her tunic at her shoulder, pushing back the leather to see the place where the aisthekis pierced her.

There’s no wound anymore—she was right when she said the healer was good—but there are two faint white scars where its pincers bit down into her.

I drop my lips to the marks, gently kissing each scar.

She turns, exposing more of her neck to me, and I kiss my way along the delicate skin, eliciting noises from her that shoot straight to my groin.

“You won’t get it anywhere else, princess,” I murmur into her ear. “No man will make you come like I did, no man will ever feel so right inside of you.”

I slip my hand into her pants, stroking my fingers along her silk underwear and dipping between her legs. I can’t help but release a rumble of desire when I feel her readiness for me through the fabric. She inhales sharply and closes her eyes as I caress her with firm strokes.

I move to pull the fabric aside, hungry to feel that tight heat against my fingers, but her eyes fly open as I begin to edge past the fabric, and she pulls away.

“Don’t,” she says. “We can’t do this.”

Gods, this woman knows how to test me.

Leashing my desire now is like trying to chain a rabid animal, but I wrestle myself under control. With a growl, I withdraw my hand, leaving it resting possessively on her hip.

“You’re always getting in your own way,” I say, leveling a disapproving stare at her. “Don’t you want to feel good, Ana?”

“I want to have some respect for myself,” she says, her face hard. Where a moment ago she was all softness, panting with need, now she’s firmly pulled on her mask. “And that’s why I’m sticking to what I said. I won’t get involved with someone already promised to another, in any sense.”

My hunger isn’t helped by her putting her hands against my chest, but it’s only to nudge me aside. I grit my teeth and let myself be moved, giving her the space she wants.

So much of me shouts not to let her slip through my fingers, but the fact remains that Ana is a better person than me. It’s not fair of me to try to corrupt her by leading her astray right now, no matter how badly I want to.

“I’ll call a servant to show you to your new rooms,” I say, offering no further argument. “I’ll make sure you’re near Tira. You both need each other right now.”

I think I see a hint of surprise from her when I don’t push back against her rejection, but while I might’ve lost this battle, I’m far from surrendering yet.

I will get Ana back, and not just into my bed.

I want her by my side, trusting me, letting me in—that’s the war I’m fighting, and I don’t care how long it takes to win it.

“There’s a ball in honor of my unit’s return tomorrow night,” I say. “I know you’re supposed to be resting for the next few days so you can help Fairon, but I’d like you to be there.”

I’ve already spoken to Fairon’s healers.

They say he needs a little time to recover from yesterday’s seizure before it will be safe to try again.

We’ll give him two days, and then Ana can go see him.

I’m more relaxed now, knowing that we’re closer than ever to curing him.

Even Ana walking away from me today can’t kill my optimism.

Now I’ve succeeded in one mission, winning her back doesn’t seem so impossible.

I’ll find a way. I have to. I realized at the Lyceum, that day she almost died. I need her in a way that’s terrifying, but not as terrifying as the alternative. There’s no other option. At least, not one I’ll accept.

“I don’t know if I’m in the mood for dancing,” she says from where she’s fled to the other side of the room, like she doesn’t trust herself to be close to me. She’s still flushed from our encounter. Good. I don’t want her to forget that feeling.

“Give me a chance, princess, and I can get you in the mood for anything.”

I’m still enjoying the aggravated look on her face when the servant comes to show her to her new rooms.