Page 71 of Golden Queen (Idrigard #1)

I shook my head as Io began to pull me back to the door. "We just need lodging," I said, tugging on his hand to hold him in place as I gave her a warm smile. "Everyone is full and we—" I indicated Aben and Britaxia at the bar, "—thought you might have a couple spare rooms."

I watched her face fall a little as she eyed Io at my side.

"But thanks for the offer," I added, to soften the blow. I leaned in, giving her a wink as I said, conspiratorially, "I'm afraid I'm not any good at sharing."

I gave Io another wink, expecting him to look uncomfortable, but he was trying to suppress a grin.

"It'll cost you dear if you want them for the whole night," the woman said as she rearranged her large breasts in the bodice of her ill-fitting gown.

"That's fine," Io said before I could open my mouth to even attempt to negotiate.

"If you think I'm leaving you alone for even a second in a place like this, you're insane," he whispered as we climbed a narrow, creaky set of stairs to the second floor. The faces of the patrons in the taproom had followed us all the way across the room.

I ignored him. "Do you have a room with water on tap?" I asked the woman as she reached for a doorknob.

She stopped and turned to us. "That depends, you have a gold piece? I mean two," she added quickly, sizing us up.

"Two," I agreed, feeling slightly abashed for the way I agreed to give her the gold knowing it was Io's coin.

"And another two if no one finds their way in to rob us while we sleep," he added.

"Psh," the woman said, throwing a hand up in dismissal as she turned to walk further down the hallway. She stopped in front of another identical door and used a key in her pocket to open it. "The royal suite awaits, Milady and Milord," she said with sarcasm.

I smiled warmly at her. "Thank you—" I paused for her to supply her name.

"Ida," she said, seeming both surprised and pleased.

"Thank you, Ida." I smiled at her, and she returned it with a warmth I hadn't expected.

Ida promised to give the key to the next room down to Aben and Britaxia, and to send us up some dinner. Though I wasn't expecting much from the Beaver Trap kitchens, I knew I would welcome the food on my mostly empty stomach.

When the courtesan left, I noted that the room wasn't bad. It looked neat and clean, if a little threadbare. The hearth was cold, but the wood was laid in place and Io had it roaring to life in moments.

A large, soft-looking bed covered in patchwork quilts and oversized pillows lay in front of a picturesque window.

Heavy dark-red curtains were pushed open to show what I assumed, on a clear day, might be a view of the mountains.

Then, it was a swirling mass of gray and white as the light of the day faded to dusk.

There was a sofa and chair grouped around a low wooden table, and a large clawfoot tub in the corner with two metal spouts crooked over the edge where the pipes climbed up through the floor.

It was unfortunate that the tub wasn't in a bathing chamber—and even more unfortunate when I realized there was no bathing chamber at all. I was willing to bet there was a privy out in the hall that I would dread visiting.

Io would probably insist on walking me there—for safety, of course.

I rolled my eyes at the idea, realizing that I felt a lightheartedness being in the Beaver Trap that I hadn’t felt since leaving Albiyn. I didn't know where it came from—nothing had really changed at all. I would not take it for granted, in any case, as I shrugged off my heavy coat and boots.

Io had thrown our packs and the paper parcels containing our few mercantile purchases on the couch. I bought soap and sweet-smelling shampoo in the little shop. Or rather, Io had purchased it for me since I had not a single copper penny to my name.

He had removed his coat, and he was standing at the window looking out at the snow as the light continued to fade from the day.

I reached down and turned on the bath water, and his head whipped around.

I felt a rush of something willful and reckless as I suddenly just did not give a damn. I started to unbutton my shirt, my heart racing.

This was where it had all been going—every thread of fate that had been unwinding before me. It had all been leading here from the very start.

"Sera," Io said in both question and warning.

"You said it's much too dangerous to leave me here alone, so if you don't want to see, I suggest you turn back around," I said as I reached the middle button of my shirt.

His eyes darted down to my thin chemise and my fingers fumbling with the buttons for the barest fraction of a second. And then he exhaled irritably and turned back to the window.

I caught the reflection in the glass from the lantern at my back. It told me he wasn't necessarily only seeing the snow in that window.

I knew I should not be doing it. I knew it was wrong on so many levels. But I just truly did not give a damn. And I needed a bath.

I tossed my shirt, rather loudly, onto the floor and then added soap from the paper parcel to the water. While the tub filled and the bubbles foamed up on the surface, I removed the rest of my clothes.

I turned away from the window, being too cowardly to actually meet his gaze in the reflection as I slid my pants from my hips and pulled the short silky undershirt over my head.

When I was sunk into the bubbles up to my neck in the nearly scalding water, I told him, "You can turn around now. I'm decent."

He didn't turn around. He made no move at all, and when I slid my gaze to his reflection in the glass, I met intense, angry eyes staring back at me.

Desire, hot and fierce, rolled through me at the sight of those wrath-filled eyes. He was so fucking gorgeous—made only more so when he looked like he was on the verge of some blood-fueled rampage.

And dear gods, he was so close—just a few steps away. All I would need to do is stand up and cross the distance.

It surprised me, shocked me even—the familiar aching need for him and how easily it settled back into place between my legs and in my chest—how intrinsically it seemed wrapped around my own beating heart.

I had gone from feeling it every moment we were together to believing the necromancers had completely taken it away from me.

Why had I ever believed I needed to fear him finding out what they had done to me? He was the only one in the entire gods damned world who would not judge me—would not be disgusted, no matter what they had done to me.

I made the decision right then and there that if they made me a virgin again, I would only let one person unmake me.

The fates had brought us to Cold Garden in the middle of a snowstorm—to a brothel again—just like where it had all begun. I would go where they led.

I would do my duty, and he could do his. But tonight, I thought. He is just Io, and I am just Sera. We are not the queen and the king's brother. And I will make him fucking see me.

I sighed softly, though I knew he heard me when tension seemed to ripple through him.

I leaned back in the tub, arching my back so that the tips of my breasts rose out of the water. I made a show of washing my hair with my hands. "Oh, gods," I breathed. "This feels so good."

"Sera," he warned in a deep, strained voice.

"What?" I asked innocently. "I haven't had a bath in nearly two days, and this water is so...deliciously hot." My voice was deeper, husky. I almost laughed at how ridiculous it sounded.

Io loosed a long breath, shoulders rising. “Sera, please.”

"Please?" I said, lifting one long, shapely leg from the bubbles with a splash. I ran my hands down it slowly. "Please what, Io?"

I saw him close his eyes in the window's reflection. "Please, fucking stop, Sera," he ground out, punctuating each word with an angry pause.

“And if I don’t?” I asked, watching his closed lids in the glass, daring him to open them and meet my gaze.

He kept them shut for another heartbeat. When they opened again, they were alive with unholy fire. Something wicked danced in their depths as he finally met my stare and held it.

I was transfixed by those eyes in the glass—by the feel of him in the room, his presence so large it seemed to replace the very air with the fiery scent of him.

His anger was palpable. I could feel its weight, pushing me down.

I didn’t shrink away from it, though. I reveled in it. I felt myself wishing I could open myself and take that power into me until I was near to bursting with it.

I rose from the bath at the same moment he finally turned around.

I felt the water slide down my body in streams as his hands balled in fists at his side. His jaw was a tight harsh line, his nostrils flared.

He was really, really angry at me. "Why?

" he demanded coldly. "Why are you doing this to me?

You know that we can't....I can't..." His voice lowered to barely more than a growl as his words trailed off, chest heaving.

I had never seen him so angry—so close to losing control.

Even in the moments on the castle roof, when the entire building shook, he had not looked quite as feral as he did then.

The room had darkened, the lanterns slightly muted. I couldn't see any of those shadows streaming off his body or any of his fire other than in his eyes, but I could feel his magic and the fury radiating off him in waves.

"Why are you doing this?" he demanded again.

"Because…” My chest tightened as all my bravado seemed to leak out in a single moment. “Because I need you." My voice broke on the last two words as my traitorous eyes filled with tears. My bottom lip quivered so much I had to bite down on it to stop the shaking that betrayed me.

He took a step toward me—his eyes like twin points of midnight, flared to life with black, living fire. They burned like a window into the dark fires of Chronus, and I thought I might tumble through and be consumed if I did not look away.