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“You did that on purpose,” I accused, as water streamed down my face and he glared…with his hair also wet and dripping across his forehead. For a heartbeat, I wanted to catch the drops of water as they fell, taste them. Taste…him.

But his voice roughened, and he said, “I don’t know why bathing with you invites deep conversation. ”

“It’s easier to reveal the truth when steam hides the judgment on someone’s face.”

He held my gaze with those mysterious eyes. The curse tablet glinted at his throat—did he ever take it off? Or was it like the curses embedded in the skin of the ancient dragon lords? Curses that were unerasable.

Surely, there had to be an ending, a moment when the dragons said a man had done enough. When they offered grace.

Mercy.

I shivered

“Nothing is what I expected,” I said, struggling with his changing expressions. “You aren’t the ogre who lied and dragged me into the Faded Lands.”

“What a relief,” he drawled.

“You’re like a mirror. I saw myself in you—someone I didn’t want to be, and yet, so like me that I couldn’t breathe.”

The frown lines between his brows deepened before he turned away. “You are a wicked temptation, Senaria Wraithion.”

I was glad he’d turned his back because…it was easier without his judgment. “Not a temptation. I’m a reflection, and you know it to be true.”

Kion’s voice deepened. “We are not alike.”

I pushed my hands through the water, watching the little currents disrupt the bubbling turquoise. “What I do is weaken your resolve. Make you question your decisions. All the sacrifices made for the dragons, when you must want something for yourself. ”

“I want nothing.”

Sliding around, I studied his back, the tightly banded muscles. The lift and fall when he breathed. Daringly, I traced my fingers over his shoulders, the ridges of his many scars. “This would be easier,” I whispered, “if you’d just kiss me.”

The water surged. He hooked an arm around my waist and pulled me across the bench. I stood before him in water deep enough to cover my breasts.

“Sen,” he said…a warning? Or an endearment?

I tipped my head, curious. “Why call me Sen?”

“Because”—his sigh was subtle—“Senna is forbidden to me and Senaria Wraithion is the woman known as Silk.”

I braced my palms against his arms. Studied his face, the lure of him, then the effervescent water bubbling around his body and mine.

Dancing lights made everything hazy, with the sparkles in the water, the wavering candle flames. Even the stars overhead.

Each time he breathed, my lungs matched his rhythm as if we were connected. His scent was so familiar that I doubted I’d ever forget it. Or the way my pulse tripped with each heartbeat, as if magic danced through my bloodstream. As if we were sparks on a summer’s night, waiting to explode.

How had we come to this…this wanting?

Did it torture him the way it did me?

Or was this a phantom energy living solely in my mind? The challenge of the Draakon, cursed to never love? A compulsion, the way I’d been driven toward the Nithe? The need to battle until I lay beaten on the ground, still hungry, still aching…

I traced his jaw with careful fingers, the curve of his mouth. Trembled as his hands slid along my ribs. His thumbs brushed beneath my breasts as if he would allow himself the briefest touch, but no more.

“Kion…”

“Your lips part,” he said, “and yet, your heart rate hasn’t changed.”

My breath snagged when his hands slid higher, cupping me in the way no man had ever dared. My nipples hardened against his palms.

“Is it beating harder now?” I asked jaggedly.

“You seem…very calm.”

I shook my head. He must have misinterpreted. My heart raced fast enough to make me dizzy. The bubbling warmth flowed through my veins until it became difficult to think, to do little more than lean between his legs, seek comfort in the intimacy with my arms draped around his shoulders.

I tugged at his hair teasingly, feeling no inhibition, no caution, no sense that I was invading his boundaries. I was like those girls in Tarian’s castle, the ones with seductive magic, and the sensation was…euphoric.

Powerful.

“Kion…” I said his name like it was honey on my lips. Pouted when he frowned. Preened with this new dominance, the ability to seduce him when he was reluctant.

How could I not succeed? My voice lowered. “When we first met, you were the bridegroom in no condition to perform.” I stroked his lips, my fingers lingering, waiting for the smile. For the moment when he accepted my invitation.

He didn’t answer, and I added, “My disappointment hasn’t waned. Would you continue to deny me?”

His hands tightened around my ribs, firm yet gentle. “When we first met,” he said, “you were Silk, hiding behind a veil. This version isn’t you, either.”

I moistened my lips, considering it. “If I’m not me, then who am I?”

“Someone in the thrall of magic,” he murmured.

“Yours?” I teased.

“Anneli’s.” He slid me onto the bench and retreated to the far side of the pool.

Something cold rippled through my veins. A sick energy that coiled and wouldn’t drain away.

“Fight it,” Kion Abaddon said. “What you’re feeling.”

The nausea sharpened; I put a hand against my stomach. “What am I fighting?”

“A high mage’s jealousy. She uses magic as a weapon, Senaria. Never forget that. Anneli asked you to meditate because your mind opened and she could slip in, plant her mischief. She had you obsessively training to exhaust you, and turned you into a begging fool in this pool because it amused her.”

I jerked back.

“I’m sorry. I have to hurt you right now. Use your revulsion toward me to force the compulsion out.”

The compulsion I had to seduce him. To crave his body. The way I’d craved the test of the Nithe.

A trembling began in my arms that ended at my fingertips. My eyes closed. I’d trusted Anneli, let her sneak into my head the way I’d…

The way I’d done so many times as Silk. Calling what I did a mercy.

My lips felt cracked and dry. “Why would she do it?”

“Anneli Zayas doesn’t need reasons. She does what she wants.”

“When did you know?”

“She would drape her arms like that, tug my hair. Try to provoke a fight.”

My legs turned rubbery; I needed to crawl from the pool.

Water snaked down my skin. Towels waited, folded on a bench, but they were cold and damp against my skin and I scooped my clothes from the floor.

Kion’s breathing had deepened before he hoisted himself to the tile and snatched up the remaining towel.

He gathered his own clothes and said, “We should get back.”

Stiffly, I hurried toward the hunter’s house.

We’d stay for the night. Dry clothes waited in the armoire.

Food was in a cupboard. The horses had settled in their stalls, and a storm flashed over the mountains with bursts of lightning.

Was it the turmoil from Anneli’s rage, or was she celebrating the fool I’d become?

A high mage’s jealousy…doing what she wants.

An hour passed. We’d both dressed in stale clothes, but at least they were dry.

I wore a simple gown with a low neckline and belted waist. The blue material whispered against my body as I moved from the table to the fireplace.

Kion had disappeared after he dressed, muttered an excuse about checking on the horses.

His effort made the embarrassment easier, although the tension remained, and I hated Anneli Zayas for destroying a day that had been perfect.

I stirred the pot bubbling over the fire—a vegetable stew made from the dried ingredients in the cupboard, along with what he’d brought with the apples and cheese.

But since Kion had hunted and cooked for me, courtesy demanded a reciprocation.

I scooped portions into two bowls and left them on the table. Went to find him.

He was sitting outside in the dark, sharpening the sword he always wore, as if the sliding movement of the whetstone calmed him.

The breeze tangled his hair, and for a long instant, I simply…

breathed. The storm had moved on, and with the moonrise, pearly light threw the distant trees into sharp-edged shadows against the murky gray of night.

But, hovering beside the moon, the blue orb of the Malice Moon pulsed with its forked tail.

I thought of dragons.

Finally, I said, “Every night, the threat comes closer.”

Kion turned to stare at me.

“Come inside,” I murmured. “Before it rains. ”

He glanced at the cloudless sky. “I don’t see any rain.”

“I’m sure it’s raining somewhere, Kion. Don’t be stubborn and come inside.”

From the rustling sound, I knew he stood and followed me. Gesturing toward the table, I murmured, “You gave me a perfect day, and I won’t end it with each of us eating alone.”

He left the sword beside the closed door and eyed the steaming bowls. “Did you cook?”

“I mixed what you brought with what I found in the cupboard.” His stare had me offering, “I’ll eat first if you think I’ve poisoned you.”

The muscles around his mouth tightened, relaxed as he walked to the table, scooped with the spoon and swallowed a bite.

“Well?” I demanded.

“Not bad.”

“So guarded, Draakon,” I mocked. “Afraid I’ll seduce you again?”

“Who said I was hungry?”

“Is that your stomach grumbling? You might as well sit down and eat like a civilized man. I can behave myself long enough to share a meal. Although wine would help.”

Kion went to a cupboard and came back with a jug. I found two goblets and held them out.

He poured. I sipped the wine and nodded. Then he scraped the chair back while I took a moment to stir the pot over the fire, moving it away from the heat so the contents wouldn’t burn.

The way we were acting was ridiculous. Two people who were afraid of doing or saying the wrong thing.

The gown whispered around my bare feet, but it was nothing like Silk’s white gowns.

I was thankful for it, for not having the weight of cold blood on the hem, not being the woman I’d been for Tarian.