Page 95 of Reign of Stars and Fire

This isn’t real.

“I have need for you to cease whatever is going on here, wife. I need to see you and touch you, or I will grow rather violent.” His voice, rough and low, struck my back again.

I broke. My body curled in on itself to keep from retching from the rush of blood to my head. Outside the door, someone was clicking and tapping with the lock, still trying to break in.

I closed my eyes, tears seeping through, when his heat was beside me, when he lowered to a crouch, when strong, sweat-dampened arms wrapped around my shoulders. The sob burst free, and I fell against his broad chest. I flung my arms around his neck and buried my face into his skin.

By the gods, I breathed him in.

Even wrapped around him, I didn’t open my eyes, almost as though it might reveal I’d dreamed it all. The heat off his body enveloped me, drew me closer. His long fingers stroked my hair. Caresses from his lips tantalized the tips of my ears.

I tried to say his name, but the sound was nothing more than a mangled gurgle of emotion.

“You are my every sunrise,” he breathed against my ear.

His bleeding voice dug into my skull, bled through my veins, and found refuge in my heart. I tightened my hold around his neck. The soft hint of the linens clung to his skin, but so did his scent of tanned leather, and summer rain, and woodsmoke.

Those palms that had touched me to a beautiful madness cupped the sides of my face and gently urged me back.

Tears blurred my sight. I didn’t want to miss a moment, and wiped the dampness from my lashes. The gold of a sunrise met my gaze. Ari’s bright eyes glistened in a touch of his own emotion. His hair hung perfectly messy and tousled over his brow. My hand shuddered violently until I steadied a palm against his cheek.

“You are my every sunset,” I whispered. “Tell me I’m not dreaming.”

“No. Whatever you’ve done to me—” He pointed to the healing wound where Niklas bled him not long before, “aches horribly. I would never ache in a dream.”

“Oh,” I said, sweeping the tip of my nose across his face. “Should I take my hands off you? Too sore?”

Ari’s chest rumbled in a kind of growl. “Woman,” he whispered, nipping at the lobe of my ear. “If I do not have your mouth on mine in the next moment, I will opt to go back to sleep and try all this again.”

No hesitation. Patience was spent. I pulled back only enough to fit my mouth with his.

Ari cursed, a groan of pleasure followed, like the taste of my tongue was the sweetest thing.

He dug his fingernails into my hair. He fumbled out of his crouch, so he was seated on the rug, and gathered me into his lap. I didn’t miss the wince when his skin tugged. Beneath the bandages, a few sunbursts of fresh blood soaked through, but he didn’t stop. Nor did I.

Never had I experienced the need to devour someone. In this moment, I could not taste enough of Ari. I wanted more, wanted everything. My tongue swiped his, the top of his mouth, back to his tongue. Whenever I took a gasp of air, I dragged my teeth across his bottom lip, a constant need to keep touching him. The slightest pause was too great, too insufferable.

“So, it is over then?” Sofia’s flat tone brought me back to the truth that we were not alone. The only thing powerful enough to get me to slow my desperation, to pull away from his mouth and press my forehead to his.

Sofia burned her attention to the floor. Her mouth set in a firm line, face flushed.

“You cannot tear other lives apart, Sofia,” I said, voice harsh. Her marks were everywhere on my body.

She looked at me with a new disdain. “You mean, I could not tear Ari’s life apart. Or yours. Don’t be so noble. If he were dead, you would’ve done the same.”

Her words stung. In truth, I wasn’t certain I could deny it. The madness I’d feel should the Otherworld take Ari from me had swirled close enough it did not take much to imagine the lengths I might go if I had a chance to bring him back to me.

Before anyone could respond, Sofia stood, and yanked the door open.

In an instant, Niklas fell inside as though he’d been leaning on the door. Next, Stefan fumbled over his boots. Halvar was the last to enter, blade drawn, and stepped over them.

The first knight stilled. “Ari, you bleeding bastard.”

“Hal?” Ari’s mouth parted in a bit of disbelief. Carefully, we unraveled and stood together. Two steps, and Ari had an arm around Halvar’s neck.

The knight clapped Ari’s bare back. “You always have to put on a damn show, don’t you?”

“Why are you here? Youcan’tbe here,” Ari said.