Page 42

I staggered up the candlelit stairs. The Great Gods lining the banisters stared down at me and I steeled myself against their empty, searing gazes.

Against the relentless, stabbing pain in my stomach.

I scowled up at the uncanny statue of Panos, but there was something to be learned from all the Gods—my mother included.

Something in their stoniness, in their implacability.

Theodore had those qualities, but I… I was prone to dissolve in the face of my want, of my fear.

It took all of me to not run back to Theodore’s side.

And alongside everything else, I was certain the Empress of Obelia knew precisely who I was.

At the top of the stairs my stomach clenched.

I ran quickly toward the end of the hall and the door to Theodore’s chamber.

Perhaps I should have gone elsewhere, but the palace was winding, and I yearned for the comfort of a familiar place.

I twisted the knob and raced toward the washroom.

At the basin, I heaved and heaved until I sweated.

The retching settled, but not the pain. I splashed cool water over my burning face and peeled my filthy shirt from my body.

Before I stripped my trousers, I carefully took the severing draught from my pocket and set it on the table beside Theodore’s bed.

It was as if a stone had been set on my chest where it gradually pressed down, cracking through my bone, pressing on my heart. I scrubbed with soap that smelled like Theodore. When I was clean, I wrapped myself in a towel and curled onto the tiled floor, waiting for the next roll of nausea.

The hinges of the chamber door squeaked. I rose quickly. Raced into the room. “Theo?”

Agatha stood in a lovely charcoal gown, her face edged with concern, and my eyes burned.

Gods damn it. I’d wanted it to be him. I wanted it to always be him.

“Lachlan told me everything.” Agatha’s look gentled.

“About how I almost killed him because I lost control?” I sucked in a shaky breath. “About Eusia, and Nemea?”

She gave me the barest nod. That look on her face slid too close toward pity. “At least you made it back in one piece.”

“I don’t think I did. I feel like I’ve been split wide open.” My voice snagged. “I think… I might love him.”

Agatha froze. Blinked. Nodded once. “Let’s get you dressed.”

Another painful twist of nausea moved through me. “Did you hear me?”

“I heard you.” Agatha pulled open Theodore’s wardrobe. A handful of dresses hung within that I recognized from the dressmaker’s cart. Agatha picked one in wine-colored silk from the rack.

“I’m just going to throw up on it.”

Agatha strode toward me, determined. “I don’t know how this is going to go, Imogen. I don’t even know what to think about it all. You might have to fight for him. You might have to let him go. But whatever will be required of you cannot be accomplished while you’re naked.”

A sad laugh bubbled up in my chest. I let her help me into a chemise and stays, pausing to dry-heave into the washbasin. She tugged on the laces at my back. “Tell me your plan.”

Plan seemed a grand word for the jumble of tasks that crowded my mind.

“I don’t know… I have to find Eusia. We learned she’s a spell woman, or she at least possesses some magic, like a Mage Seer does.

Theo said there were books on magic in a study here.

I need those books.” I swallowed back a surge of nausea.

“We need to unbind first. I’ll take the draught now—”

“Imogen?” My head snapped toward the open door. Theodore stood there, sallow, with a hand clutched at his stomach. His wide eyes bounced between me and Agatha. “You were going to take the draught?”

Agatha let go of my laces while they were still half undone. “I’ll go.” She gave my hand a quick, parting squeeze. “Call for me when you need me.” She skirted past Theodore to leave.

The pressure in the room changed. With slow steps, he came closer, and my sickness abated. His green eyes were pained, his voice gruff. “Answer me.”

“I was. You haven’t spoken to me in a day and a half. The empress…” I couldn’t find the words to explain our interaction. “And you and Halla—you’re so lovely together. It’s your engagement party. And I have my own responsibilities to see to—”

“I cannot even see her for the way you encompass me.” Emotion etched his face. “You fill my every sense. You stalk my waking mind. You make up the entirety of my dreams. I couldn’t speak to you after what Lachlan said because it shocked me—that he was right. About what I feel—”

“Theo,” I whispered, cutting him off.

He shook his head sharply. “It’s not the blood bond.

We both know it’s not. There is something between us that that Godsdamned bottle of muck cannot sever.

” He closed the rest of the distance between us, cupped my face in his hands.

He spoke over my lips. “What I feel for you is beyond reason—beyond duty and desire. You have tipped my whole world on its side, and you are the one clear thing in the chaos.” His nose brushed the end of mine. “You. I want you. ”

I closed my eyes at the impossibility of his admission, at the danger in it.

Rohana’s words lanced my mind. It was no wonder he couldn’t see reason.

For my soul was the water, shifting, wild, rolling through destructively, but Theodore’s had roots.

They burrowed deep, held strong, and I had poured through their empty spaces—drowning him.

He kissed me then and every clear thought I had muddled. His lips were hot and soft, and they met mine with a desperation that cracked straight through my flimsy resolve.

I rose up onto my toes. I kissed him like he was air, like he was light, and I had spent my whole life gasping in the dark. He moaned into my mouth as his tongue swiped across mine. Hard fingers curled into the strands of my hair. He set his lips across my jaw, my neck.

“Don’t think me selfish,” I breathed. “Don’t resent me for this when I should be finding and reading those books. When I should be taking that severing draught.”

There was agony in his look. “If you are selfish”—he gave me a deep, luxurious kiss—“then I am a gluttonous, greed-riddled fiend for how badly I want you.”

If I thought myself weak when it came to Theodore before, I’d been wrong. I met his kisses with shameful abandon. He pulled at my half-loose bodice, dragging his mouth over my bare shoulder, over my collarbone. He grunted in frustration when he couldn’t get the bodice any farther down.

“Turn around.” He spun me, kissed my neck from behind as he walked me toward the bed.

He pressed me over its edge, curling his body over mine as he undid the rest of my laces and set his lips and teeth and tongue over the expanse of my back.

He set indulgent kisses over the skin that hid my wings.

As he peeled my gown and stays and chemise off, his lips dragged lower, lower, all the way to the base of my spine.

His words were husky, curling steam across my skin. “Too many clothes.”

Finally, they were a pool of fabric encircling my feet.

Theodore made a low, smoky sound of approval as he took me in, bare and bent over the side of his mattress.

With the softest touch, he swiped a few errant strands of my long hair away and placed the softest kiss upon my middle back.

“Perfect,” he whispered, sending a shiver through me. “You’re beautiful.”

He set kiss after gentle kiss down my back, until he knelt behind me. I let out a shaky breath as his lips brushed slowly over the curve of my backside, as his fingers grasped and kneaded my flesh. He nudged my thighs wider. The first swipe of his tongue coaxed a moan from low in my chest.

The world narrowed to him alone, to the heavy spiral of heat that he sent through my belly with each flick of his talented tongue.

With a forceful grip, he moved my knee up over the edge of the bed, and deepened his attention.

That heat spread through me in a cresting wave. “Theo,” I called out, weak and high.

“Not yet,” he ordered, speaking against the soft skin of my inner thigh.

He slid a finger inside me, groaning as he did.

Then another. My hands clawed at the blanket, my hips bucked, but he pinned me still with a strong arm.

With those fingers moving in and out, with his hot tongue set perfectly over the most sensitive part of me, it was impossible for me to wait any longer.

My cry filled the chamber. My entire body was beaded with sweat and pulsing, shaking under the fluid, sweet way his tongue, his lips, still worked at me.

He rolled me onto my back, pushing my legs wide.

He dragged his mouth over the inside of my thighs, biting and kissing me there.

When I reached for him, utterly spent, he reared back.

He rested his cheek on my knee, gave me a wicked smile. “Did you forget that I’m greed-riddled when it comes to you?” He set his lips over me again—sucking, licking. “I’m not done yet.”

It wasn’t long before the candlelight guttered from euphoria, before I was moaning and arching against him again. I was splayed over the bed, limbs weak as sapling branches, and Theodore loomed over me wearing the smuggest smile I’d ever seen. “Do you need a moment?”

“You’re feeling very proud, aren’t you?”

He bent over me, that smile still on his beautiful face, and set his lips over my breast. “Mmm-hmm.”

I curved my back, urging him to take me deeper into his mouth. He obliged, flicking his marvelous tongue over me. “Take off your clothes,” I breathed.