Page 17

AREK

“I don’t know how to talk to her,” I say to Shae, pacing back and forth.

I haven’t even been able to go into the kitchen since that night. Heat flashes through me at the mere memory of her body pressed against mine, everything about her so damn perfect and right that part of my soul finally felt at peace.

“Well, not talking to her certainly isn’t going to help, Arek,” Shae tells me with a sly smile.

It’s still so odd to hear that name. Shae uses it, always has, but I’ve hardly been here in centuries.

It’s odd, but not unwelcome.

Arek is a comfortable cloak I haven’t worn for years, and even though I’m unused to it, the name still feels like home.

“I know that,” I mumble, because Shae’s staring at me expectantly.

“Then why aren’t you?”

I rake a hand through my hair, likely only succeeding in making myself look even more disheveled. “I don’t want to piss her off. She said she doesn’t trust me.”

Shae winces. “I can’t blame the girl for that.”

She also said she was mine, and the memory of her pretty cunt squeezing me is driving me out of my fucking mind.

I scowl.

Shae sighs, an eyebrow arched. “She won’t magically start trusting you if you keep avoiding her.”

“But what do I talk about?”

The door bursts open, and Shae startles as I turn, my hand on the pommel of my sword.

Even being home won’t break some habits.

It’s Kyrie, her hair wild and unkempt, bright spots of pink in her cheeks.

“They’re here. The rest of us.” She gestures between me and her, breathless. “Sola is coming. They don’t know how long we have, but Lara said she’s gathering her power.”

Her eyes meet mine, and there’s a challenge in them, as if she’s daring me to contradict her.

“I’ll go tell everyone to prepare,” Shae says hurriedly, wiping her hands on her trousers. “We’ll have a celebration tonight to welcome your friends, too.”

“That’s really not necessary—” Kyrie starts.

Shae cuts her off with a hand in the air and a stubborn look.

“It won’t be the only thing we are celebrating. Know this, Kyrie, life is always worth celebrating. We shouldn’t cower in the face of darkness, but meet it with hope.” With that, she shoots me a meaningful look and flounces out of the room, calling for her daughter.

Leaving me alone with the woman I am desperate for.

I heave a sigh.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” Kyrie says flatly, crossing her arms and neatly blocking my exit.

“No,” I say.

“Lie,” she says. “Did you know I can taste them? Lies, that is.” She tilts her head, regarding me for a long moment. “I’m worried.”

“I will protect you,” I tell her, taking a step towards her, drawn to her.

Her expression tightens. “Like you did the last time?”

“Kyrie—”

“No,” she holds up a hand, then licks her lips. Raw vulnerability shines in her green eyes. “I shouldn’t have said that. I understand why you did it.”

But she’s not going to let it go anytime soon.

I don’t expect her to.

“I should be grateful for every crumb of attention you give me,” I growl, the leash of self-control I’ve worn so tightly finally snapping. “I shouldn’t push you for more and more. I should know better than to keep dogging you for it.”

My hands go to her hips, and I drag her against my body.

“It won’t ever be enough, Kyrie. The only thing that will sate my exquisite need for you is your entire heart.”

“You made me say I’m yours,” she says, a sardonic lilt to her voice. “What else do you want?”

“You drive me fucking crazy,” I tell her. “And now you tell me our time could be even more limited, and I feel like I’m going to crawl out of my skin with the need to have you, to be inside you, to be one with you.”

“Is that all this is, Sword?” She drops her gaze meaningfully to my cock, and I grit my teeth as her hands wrap around it.

She smells like sunshine and spring grass, like life itself.

Her hand pumps my cock beneath my trousers, and I grunt in feral satisfaction—until I feel the sharp bite of her nails through the cloth.

My eyes widen.

“You just want me as your mate to fuck? Hmm?” Anger is clear in her eyes now, and I mentally curse myself for being so stupid.

“I want every bit of you, Kyrie.” The words grate out of me, and I narrow my eyes.

If she can taste my lies, then she’ll know my truth.

Fire flashes in her eyes. “Then act like it,” she says.

I move before I can tell myself to stop, my fingers cradling the back of her head, my mouth finding hers.

She tastes even better than her scent, and when she moans, any control I thought I had over myself snaps.

Teeth bite down on my lower lip, hard enough that the copper tang of blood washes against my tongue.

I swear, pulling away from her.

“I understand, Arek . Hrakan, Sword, whatever it is you want me to call you, depending on the fucking day. I understand that you think I belong to you, because we’re mates. And you’ve shown that all that means to you is that my body is yours.”

I dab a finger at the sore spot on my lip, already healing.

“You are mine,” I say on a growl, when it becomes clear she’s waiting for some sort of reply.

“That’s all this is, then? My body is yours to do with what you will, and you don’t give a shit about the rest of me?” A muscle twitches in her temple, and I realize, too late, that I’ve fucked up.

“No, by the gods, Kyrie.” The words explode out of me, and my hands clench. “I want all of you.”

I stalk closer to her, noticing the rapid rise and fall of her chest, the faint sheen of sweat on her brow, mingling with the coating of dust.

“I want every bit of you. Every last fucking smile, every laugh and sarcastic remark.” My hand goes to her neck, and I pull her close, tilting my head towards hers.

Her lips part slightly, and my gaze drops to them.

“I want every kiss, every breath, and every sweet cry of pleasure I can wring from you. I want your fire and your anger and your love and kindnesses, because Kyrie, you are the only woman for me. You took everything I ever wanted and made it so much better, because it’s you.”

My voice breaks.

She draws a shuddering breath, her eyes filling with tears.

Tears that I’ve caused, yet again.

“I want your tears, Kyrie.” My gaze darts between her eyes, trying to convince her, needing her to understand, to believe. “I want every imperfection that makes you so perfectly you. I want you to let me in, and understand that I only ever hurt you because it was the only fucking way to keep you alive. And that—that will be the biggest regret of a long life full of regrets. But not you. Not keeping you alive, keeping you here.” I bend my head towards her, inhaling the scent of her, the delicious, addictive sweetness of her skin. “I will never regret anything else about you, even your hatred, because it means that I had you, that I loved you, even if my love was selfish.”

Her throat bobs, and one tear tracks down her face, cutting through the dirt.

I rub my thumb over the tear, over the constellation of freckles on her cheekbone, needing her to understand how I feel. Needing her with me, present, not falling into that pit of depression she’s only just climbed from.

“You are the strongest woman I’ve ever known,” I tell her, and even though I want to kiss her, I need her to trust that I want more than just her body. So much more. “You are life itself, Kyrie, for all its complications and pain. You are the light to my darkness, and I crave you like a flower craves the sun.”

Her arms go around my waist then, pulling me tight, and I’m afraid to breathe too deeply, afraid to scare her away.

“I feel it too.” She chokes out the words, her chest heaving as she inhales deeply. “I feel the bond between us, and I’m scared, Sword. Hrakan. Ugh.”

She waves her hand, trying to dismiss her confusion over my many names.

A noise of discomfort escapes me at the name, the title, the mantle of death I’ve worn for centuries now. A mantle that only now feels like maybe it could be lighter on my shoulders.

“I don’t know how to not be scared. I have a new body, a new… power inside me, and I don’t know what to do with it. I don’t know what to do with you. I don’t know how to trust what you’re saying.”

I pull away, just enough to catch her chin in my hands and force her to look at me.

“We are all scared, golden one,” I tell her. “It is good to be afraid.”

She huffs a joyless laugh, a skeptical eyebrow raised. “How is being scared a good thing?”

Does she truly not understand? I forget, even know, how young she is, how new.

“Because it means you have something to lose.”

I want her so badly, my cock straining against my pants, but I’m not going to act on it. If I have to keep my mouth and hands to myself for the next century to prove to her that I need her for more than her perfect body, then I will.

It might kill me, but I will.

I will do anything I have to for Kyrie.

Anything.