Page 9

Bait

C assandra

I was supposed to die yesterday.

I still haven’t stopped shaking. Not from fear, at least not entirely. It’s something else. A restlessness under my skin. My magik is too full, and my thoughts are too loud. I’ve walked the length of this room a hundred times and it’s still not far enough.

I hear the door open behind me and I know it’s him before he speaks. Niko doesn’t announce himself anymore. He just enters and the room knows. I know.

“I’m not made for this,” I whisper without turning. “The court. The politics. The games. The lies. This wasn’t supposed to be my life. I’m not a deceptive person.”

His plan from last night runs on repeat through my mind. The risks, the fallout from what we plan on doing.

“It wasn’t supposed to be mine either,” he says quietly.

His voice is lower than usual. Rough. Like he’s been holding something back too long. “I could’ve died and now you’re talking about using me as bait.”

“But you didn’t die.” His hands brush my arms from behind. “Because you’re meant to do more. To be more.”

“I’m tired of being more,” I whisper.

I feel him press his forehead between my shoulder blades. A breath trembles out of him. “You don’t have to be more right now,” he says. “Just ... be with me. We’ll figure out the rest later.”

I turn in his arms. The look in his eyes is raw. No bravado, no shields. Just Niko, future king, warrior, Fae, man, offering me something I didn’t know I needed. He offers safety. Not from magik but from loneliness.

I rise on my toes and kiss him. There’s nothing soft about it.

His mouth claims mine like he’s starving. Like the world ended and I’m the only thing left worth tasting. I fist my hands in his shirt and pull him closer, until there’s no space between us, only heat and breath and magik flaring under our skin.

When he lifts me into his arms, I don’t resist. When he lays me on the bed, I don’t hesitate. There’s no fear. Just this need—this knowing—that whatever happens tomorrow, I want tonight to be ours.

His hands explore like he’s memorizing me. Not like a lover, like a devotee. Worshiping every curve, every gasp. His mouth trails fire down my neck, over my chest, down to my breasts, nipping and licking my nipples until they are turgid peaks.

“Niko,” I whisper, arching into him, overwhelmed and undone by this moment, by him.

His lips find mine again. “Say yes,” he murmurs against my skin. “Say you’re mine.”

“I was yours the moment I touched you.”

He pushes his cock into me slowly, not fucking me but claiming me. He rocks into me with long measured thrusts that reach spots inside me I wasn’t aware I had. His gaze is locked on mine, love shining brightly even though we’ve never said the words.

He opens his thoughts and emotions to me. I am slammed with images of the future he envisions for us. He sees me swollen with a child—our child—he sees us happy, fulfilled. He sees peace for this realm and the others.

My orgasm crests and sweeps me under dragging him along. For long moments after, neither of us move, just regaining our breathing and drinking in the moment.

His hand palms my cheek. “I love you, Cassandra. And I will do whatever it takes to keep you.”