CHAPTER SEVEN
EMME
H eat traced down my spine, pulling me from the depths of sleep.
Warm lips pressed against my shoulder blade, moving with great deliberation down each vertebra.
I stirred, not quite awake, but my body responding with a languid stretch that pressed me further into the touch.
“Mmm,” I murmured, caught in that perfect space between dreams and consciousness where everything felt heightened.
“What time is it?”
“Early,” Lairos whispered against my skin.
His fingers continued their journey down my spine, pressing into spots that had me gasping.
“Don’t stop,” I mumbled into the pillow, still half-asleep.
His laugh was a low rumble against my back as he resumed tracing those lines, this time with his mouth.
Each press of his lips sent little sparks of pleasure radiating outward.
I shifted beneath him, suddenly very awake and very aware of how my body responded to his touch.
“I didn’t expect you to be so sensitive there,” he said with another drag of his fingertips.
“Not without the scales.”
The observation came with a hint of surprise that made me smile despite myself.
Even after last night, there were still discoveries to be made between us.
His teeth grazed a spot just above my tailbone, and I jerked, a bolt of pleasure shooting through me.
“Very sensitive,” he amended, and I could hear the smirk in his voice.
I rolled over to face him, taking in his disheveled appearance.
He’d been summoned away after a second round of spirited…
negotiations .
His hair was pulled back in a messy knot, a few strands escaping to frame his face.
Dark circles shadowed his eyes, and stubble darkened his jaw.
He looked exhausted but wired, like he’d been up all night and was running on pure adrenaline.
“Have you slept at all?” I asked, reaching up to trace the line of his jaw.
He caught my hand and pressed a kiss to my palm.
“No. Vigas and I have been strategizing all night.”
“And?”
Frustration flashed across his face.
“And the old bastard talked me out of storming the palace.”
I sat up, pulling the sheet with me.
“You were going to storm the palace? Just like that?”
“Why not?” Lairos paced to the wall of reinforced glass.
Restless energy seemed coiled in his movements.
“It’s my palace. My throne. My people suffering under Nedaris and his Knights.”
“And you against how many of them?” I asked, trying to keep my voice level despite the spike of fear his words triggered.
“That sounds like suicide, not strategy.”
He turned back to me, a dangerous smile playing at his lips.
“I’ve faced worse odds.”
“And lived to tell about it through sheer dumb luck, I’m sure,” I muttered, running a hand through my tangled hair.
His laugh surprised me, genuine amusement replacing some of that tightly-wound tension.
“Vigas said almost the exact same thing.” He crossed back to the bed and caught my hand, tugging me to my feet.
“Come. If I have to wait to retake my throne, I at least want to show you the domain you’ll help me rule.”
I fumbled with the linen wrap, trying to recreate the intricate folds from yesterday.
The fabric refused to cooperate, slipping from my grasp as I attempted to tuck and twist it into something resembling proper attire.
Lairos watched my struggle with growing amusement until finally stepping in with an exasperated sigh.
“Here,” he said, his fingers deftly arranging the cloth around my body.
The brush of his knuckles against my skin made it hard to focus on learning the technique.
“Like this,” he murmured, securing the final fold at my shoulder.
“Though I much prefer you without it.”
“And any would-be glancers?” I teased.
“What would happen if they enjoyed the view too much?”
He hummed noncommittally as he smoothed nonexistent wrinkles from my hips, hands lingering.
“Perhaps the kingdom could do without eyes.”
I snorted at the suggestion and headed for the door.
He caught me before I could open it, tucking a stray strand of hair behind my ear.
His lips pressed softly against mine, a surprisingly tender gesture that sent butterflies fluttering through my stomach.
When he pulled back, his eyes sparkled with mischief as he opened the door with an exaggerated bow.
“After you, my queen.”
We moved quickly through Stillwater’s corridors, his restless energy infectious as I kept pace.
Guards and personnel stepped aside with respectful nods as we passed.
“This place was my salvation,” he said as we walked, his hand never leaving mine.
“When my father sent me away, I thought it was the end of everything. Turns out it was just the beginning.”
He gripped a large wheel set into the wall, spinning it with practiced ease.
The heavy door swung open with a soft hiss, and we stepped into a large bay where dozens of Khadians sparred with various weapons.
“Vigas knocked me on my ass right there, daily, until I learned to fight smarter instead of harder.” The pride in Lairos’s voice was unmistakable.
“Said a king who relies only on his strength is a king who’ll die young.”
I watched two warriors circle each other with tridents and nets, their movements fluid and deadly.
“They’re beautiful to watch,” I admitted.
“Like a dance.”
“A dance where one wrong step means death.” His fingers tightened on mine.
“Vigas made sure I understood that lesson well. These soldiers put their lives in my hands every time they enter a battle. They are owed consideration when I fight with words instead of weapons.”
I studied his profile, finally seeing why Vigas’s words had cut through his plan to storm the palace.
Every move in this fight with Nedaris had to consider more than victory—Lairos had to account for the lives that would be lost reaching it.
The soldiers here weren’t just weapons to be wielded, they were his people.
His responsibility.
But ever the irreverent royal, he broke the seriousness with a grin.
“Took months before he admitted I might survive being king after all.”
We moved through more sealed sections, each hatch requiring the same practiced spin of heavy wheels.
Lairos nodded to off-duty soldiers in the barracks, exchanged quick words with the medical staff about supply needs, checked in with the mess about rations.
Each place came with a story and a newly revealed piece of himself.
Not the practiced charm of a king entertaining a diplomat, nor the regal persona required for ceremonial occasions.
Just a man who loved his home and wanted to share it with the woman he claimed as his soulmate.
Soulmates.
Soul song.
I rolled the unfamiliar words over in my mind, tasting the phrases as he led me deeper into his world.
They sounded foolish.
Romantic.
And yet…
I could feel the truth of them in every interaction between us.
Some fundamental, inevitable thread wound between us, tying us together through time and space.
Finally, we reached a circular chamber with glass walls that looked out into the swirling maelstrom.
The water folded into itself, creating pockets of calm amid violent currents.
Distant flashes of light revealed fish moving in schools through the abyss, shadows lurking just beyond sight.
“This is the highest point of Stillwater Hold,” Lairos said, his voice softening.
“I spent hours here, watching the currents. Learning their patterns. Understanding how something so chaotic could still have an underlying order.”
I stepped closer to the glass, mesmerized by the play of water and light on the other side.
“It’s beautiful.”
“Yes,” he agreed.
“She is.”
I glanced over my shoulder and found him watching me, not the ocean.
The softness in his expression made me forget everything beyond this room.
For a moment, I could almost believe we had all the time in the world to learn each other’s quirks and histories, hopes and dreams.
But beneath the peacefulness, I felt a clock ticking down our time together.
The fight for his throne wouldn’t wait forever.
“When will you go?” I asked, the question slipping out before I could reconsider.
His eyes remained fixed on the churning waters.
“Soon. Vigas believes we’ll have enough support within three days.”
Three days.
Just seventy-two hours before he’d face his brother in a battle that could claim his life.
The thought sent an unexpected wave of panic through me.
I wanted to tell him I’d go with him, fight at his side.
But the words died in my throat.
What good would I be in a battle?
I couldn’t even breathe in his underwater world, let alone defend myself in it.
The limitation burned, made worse by knowing there was nothing I could do to change it.
“You’re thinking very loudly,” Lairos said, his voice gentle.
“I hate that I can’t help you.” My fingers curled into fists at my sides.
“I don’t like knowing that I’ll have to wait here, wondering if you’re alive or dead.”
“Worried I won’t be around to honor our agreement for your fellow humans?” His teasing tone couldn’t quite mask the underlying tension.
He cupped my face in his hands.
“Stillwater is impregnable. You’ll be safe here. That matters more than you know.”
But what good was my safety to the thousands still in cryosleep?
To the ones counting on me to save their lives?
Every second Nedaris held power was another second closer to their destruction.
I stepped back from Lairos’s touch with a weak laugh.
“I’m sorry. Here I am, demanding comfort when you should be focused on preparations.”
“You are many things, Emme Mathis, but never a burden.” His lips quirked into that familiar arrogant smile.
“Though I admit, selfish as I am, nothing would please me more than having you at my side when I retake my throne.”
“Let me guess,” I said with a roll of my eyes.
If he wanted to shove the problems away for these precious few moments, then so could I.
“Resplendent dress, enemies on their knees, allies with devotion in their eyes.”
“Pageantry is as much a weapon as a blade, and I wield both with ease.” Lairos shrugged one shoulder, every inch the careless king at play.
“The court will hate having a queen who sees through their games. They’ve spent generations perfecting the art of agreeing with their king while undermining him.”
“I’m sure you’ve given them plenty of practice,” I said, fighting a smile at his obvious delight in causing chaos.
“Oh, but watching you cut through their pretenses will be spectacular.” His grin widened as he tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, his touch lingering.
“No one else dares question their king quite like you do.”
The quiet admiration caught me off guard.
I’d grown used to his flirtation, his strength, his arrogance.
But this…
This felt real.
This was a man who valued my defiance, who wanted my counsel.
This was a partner.
A…
mate.
The maelstrom hummed around us, a constant reminder of the dangerous beauty of his world.
I stepped closer, drawn to this alien king who could charm water—and me—like some siren from our old tales.
His thumb brushed across my bottom lip, making it impossible to concentrate on anything but him.
His smirk told me he knew exactly what effect he had on me, but I allowed him the unspoken victory as our lips met.
The kiss started slow and sensual, like we had all the time in the world.
Time to explore.
Time to savor.
Time to hope.
Desire thrummed between us, matching the beat of my heart, the pulse of my blood.
He tilted my head back, deepening the kiss, his tongue darting past my parted lips to tease mine.
Need flared brighter, burning away caution.
I wrapped my arms around his neck, letting him carry me deeper into his spell.
The chamber shuddered, a deep groan reverberating through Stillwater’s foundations.
The reinforced glass rattled in its frame as the vibration shook through my bones.
We broke apart, staring at each other as the tremor subsided.
“What was that?” I asked, steadying myself against the glass as another spasm rocked the structure.
Movement flickered at the edge of my vision.
A dark shape cut through the maelstrom, vanishing into the churning waters.
Another shadow darted past, closer this time.
More emerged from the depths, and my stomach dropped as I realized they weren’t moving with the currents, but against them.
Lairos saw them, too, his expression hardening.
“Nothing good.”