Page 20

Chapter

Eleven

NIKOLAS

E zabell’s footsteps faded, leaving Dain and me alone in the small chamber. Arousal hung in the air.

Mine. Dain’s. Ezabell’s. It had been brewing all day—a reckoning set in motion last night. But another kind of reckoning brewed. I only had to look in Dain’s eyes to see it.

So I didn’t, turning instead and going to the window. A small, tidy garden lay below, its flowering trees and well-tended hedges protected by a chest-high wall. The sun had gone down, and now purple twilight cast the world in shades of lavender.

“It’s a nice view,” I said without turning around.

“You want to steal the sunstone,” Dain said. It wasn’t a question.

Lying to him was pointless. I fooled most people because most people were fools. But Dain Zostas was no such thing.

So I faced him, and I didn’t flinch from the accusation in his eyes. “It could solve our problems. We’re running out of time.”

And time was very much of the essence. Even worse, we didn’t know how much of it we had.

Dain folded his arms, blocking the doorway as if he expected me to make a run for it. “We can’t take the sunstone from Ezabell. It’s the key to her kingdom.”

“A kingdom she lost,” I said bluntly.

Displeasure flashed in his eyes. “She could get it back. We could help her.” He stepped forward, the displeasure growing. “Or do you want to be another man who betrays her?”

Guilt twisted in my gut. At last, the weight of his stare grew too heavy, and I looked away. “Of course not.”

“So, we’ll help her find the sunstone like we promised.”

I looked at the floor, worry rising. Worry was a distraction—something I couldn’t afford when I worked. Most days, I was just as skilled at ignoring my problems as I was at lifting purses. But my biggest problem had a way of worming into my consciousness.

Footsteps sounded, and then Dain was in front of me. Big fingers gripped my jaw and lifted my head.

“We operate on a code,” he said softly, his blue eyes as clear and steady as they’d been when we were boys masquerading as men. “We don’t steal from the innocent, and we don’t take more than we need. Remember?”

“I remember,” I rasped.

“We don’t veer from it,” he said. “And when we say we’ll do something, we do it.”

The worry rose higher, its grip like a fist around my throat. It made my voice hoarse as I said, “We can’t do anything if we’re dead.”

“We don’t know if that will happen.”

“We don’t know that it won’t!” I shoved a hand through my hair, frustration riding me hard.

Dain said nothing. But as usual, his silence spoke volumes. He was willing to risk everything to help Ezabell, and he wouldn’t budge from his decision. Relocating a mountain would be easier than persuading him to change his mind.

I exhaled, forcing my anger to subside. “I’ll figure something out,” I said finally.

He made a low sound. Then he reached out and smoothed my hair. Voice thick with affection, he said, “I know. You always do.”

We were close enough for me to see the ring of darker blue around his irises.

Close enough to see the scar on his chin from the time he’d taken a broken bottle to the jaw.

We’d narrowly escaped with our lives on that occasion, sprinting through the rain to safety and then celebrating our survival in the most primitive way possible.

Losing him wasn’t an option. And he had magic in his veins, however diluted. If our time ran out, I suspected it would run out for Dain first.

Not happening.

“Maybe we can do both,” I said. “Use the sunstone to help Ezabell and ourselves.”

He searched my gaze. “You think so?”

“Sure.” Maybe. “Don’t I always come up with a plan?”

“Yeah, and sometimes those plans end up with us nearly being hanged.”

Gods, he was never going to let that go. I stepped into him, letting my chest brush his. “Nearly hanged isn’t hanged, love.”

His nostrils flared, and he shifted his gaze to my mouth. The tension between us shifted, too, the remnants of our argument flitting away as we breathed each other in.

“Don’t try to distract me with sex,” he muttered.

I knew my smile was wicked as I palmed his dick through his trousers, curling my fingers around his semi-hard shaft. “Oh, I don’t have to try .”

His cock swelled under my fingers. He palmed my nape, pulling me closer. Just before our lips met, however, anxiety touched his features. With a groan, he dropped his forehead to mine.

“I don’t like her being alone downstairs.”

“Neither do I,” I admitted. Blood pumped to my groin as the memory of Ezabell’s sleek body appeared in my mind.

Dain swallowed hard. “She said she wanted to be alone.”

I lifted my head. “No, she said she was going alone. She never said she wanted to.” Desire pumped harder. Without another word, I went to the door.

Dain followed. “This is a bad idea,” he warned, but desire threaded his words.

I tossed him a grin as I opened the door. “It’s a great idea. Trust me.”

He grumbled. But he followed as I’d known he would. The corridor outside our room was empty, the carpet that ran down the center faded in the middle. Candles in brass holders flickered on the walls. We descended the narrow staircase, the boards creaking softly beneath our boots.

The air at the bottom of the steps was warm and humid. The scent of rose oil teased my nose. Dain and I looked at each other and then followed it, eventually reaching a sturdy-looking wooden door.

A locked door, I discovered, turning the knob. Pulling a pick from my pocket, I knelt and went to work. Seconds later, I rose and stepped inside.

Steam greeted me, along with a heady rush of rose oil and jasmine. The latter tightened my dick and set my balls aching. The bathing chamber was dim, with just a single brazier burning in the corner.

Steam rolled away in thick clouds as Dain and I moved forward. As my eyes adjusted, the room took shape.

The innkeeper had been modest when she described the space.

The sunken pool was large enough for a dozen men, its perimeter lined with broad steps.

Glass bottles of jewel-colored oil sat on a low bench next to the water, which gleamed a blush pink in the firelight.

A thick set of shelves held stacks of linen towels.

I didn’t care about any of it. My gaze fixed on Ezabell, who sat facing us in the pool with her back against the stone.

Forget queen. She was a goddess, her nude body sleek with oil.

The pool rose to her waist, exposing her pink-tipped breasts.

Tiny suns covered her neck and arms, the golden rays swirling over her skin.

Her hair was wet, but she’d piled it on her head, several loose strands escaping to cling to her neck.

For once, her tapered ears were unhidden, all her otherworldly beauty on display.

And what a fucking display. Water beaded her creamy skin. More droplets glittered like diamonds on her delicate collarbones. As I watched, a bead trailed slowly down the valley between her breasts.

Beside me, Dain groaned.

Ezabell’s eyes widened briefly, but she covered her surprise—and made no move to cover her nudity. On the contrary, she propped one elbow on the lip of the stone behind her, the movement languid and unhurried. The lucky bead of water continued its journey down her flat stomach.

I’d never been jealous of water, but I was going to have to reconsider.

“That door was locked,” Ezabell said with a lift of one black brow.

Somehow, I maintained my composure, even managing a brow lift of my own as I held up my lock pick.

She pursed her lips. “I should have known.”

Arousal thickened the air, joining the steam. The sound of dripping water warred with Dain’s breathing, which had gone ragged. He stared at Ezabell like he worried she might disappear, his chest rising and falling at the edge of my vision.

“Why did you boys come down here?” she asked. “I distinctly recall stating I planned to bathe alone.”

“We were worried,” Dain rasped. His voice sounded like he’d dragged it over the stone floor.

She appeared to think this over, pressing the tip of her tongue to her upper lip. It was as pink as her nipples. As pink as her pussy, which I hadn’t seen in far too long. It was a hazy paradise under the water, along with her long, shapely legs and pretty feet. Everything about her was pretty.

“Worried about me?” she asked finally.

Dain grunted.

Ezabell ran a slow, deliberate look down his body, settling on the juncture of his thighs. Dain trembled, clearly caught in her spell.

Well, that made two of us. Maybe she wasn’t an elven princess, after all. Maybe she was a witch. No matter. Ezabell Kasreneth could turn me into a toad, and I’d croak my thanks.

Golden eyes fastened on me. “You’re staring, Nikolas.”

Yes, she was most definitely a witch. Because the sound of my name said in her husky voice wrapped around my cock and squeezed.

“It’s hard not to,” I said, repeating my words from our dance.

She stretched her arms along the ledge, a challenge in her pose.

And an unmistakable invitation. Her magic was dormant, but an inhuman sheen glinted in her golden eyes. Slowly, she drew a knee up, allowing one shapely thigh to break the water’s surface.

My cock pressed against the front of my trousers, threatening to burst the laces.

“Well?” Ezabell asked. “Are you two just going to stand there?”

At various points in my life, I’d heard men talk of losing their minds to lust. Of being dizzy with it. I’d always dismissed those claims as men trying to impress each other with their sexual exploits.

Now, I knew I’d been dead wrong. My heart thundered, the beats so close together I felt like I’d sprinted from a gallows. The bathing chamber went hazy and not from steam.

No, I was lightheaded with lust, my mind fogged with visions of what lay under the water. Need battered me, most of my blood lodged in my dick. So it took me a moment to remember how to form words.

“What would you have us do instead, Princess?”