Chapter Thirty-Six

RAZIEL

He would be a liar if he said that he wasn’t attracted to his wife.

After the adrenaline wore off, he caught whiffs of the Lure teasing the air. Raziel backed away from his wife and sat at the small kitchen table, the rickety old grain groaning beneath his weight.

Raziel dropped his head into his hands and closed his eyes. He was so tired.

Soul weary.

The rustling of clothes captured his attention and he lifted his head, watching his wife pulling the wet, sandy dress from her body and tossing it in front of the hearth.

She caught his eye but he didn’t look away and neither did she.

The moment stretched, filling with tension until it broke as she turned her back to him.

He mapped scars along her back as she walked around the bed, yanking her nightdress from a cord strung above the bathtub. Raziel stifled a groan. The nightdress had been given to her as a well-meant gift, but it was so threadbare that it was nearly translucent.

While Mer had no problem walking around the house in all sorts of undress, there was something about the shabby little nightdress that made him want to ravish his wife.

You’re a fool.

It was true. He could scarcely keep his eyes from her odd yet pleasing figure. She was so pale compared to his burnished skin. Her little scales glimmering softly in the light along with the gills that rested nearly invisible along the sides of her neck.

While he’d been out of his mind with the Lure the first time they met, part of him recognized what was going on. He remembered the silky soft texture of her gills between his fingers, and he had not imagined the way she had shuddered before she pushed his hand away.

Despite their best efforts, there was attraction blooming between them.

This was just supposed to be a political marriage.

Yet, each time a man looked at her with appreciation, he wanted to punch them in the face. It was ridiculous. Didn’t that make him a selfish blighter?

Raziel forced himself to look away when she began oiling her skin.

If he wasn’t careful, he’d end up kneeling at her feet, begging for her to let him have just one taste.

His body stirred and he shoved himself up from the chair, pacing to the fire. He leaned a hand on the mantle and prayed his body would behave.

This is not the time.

Scrubbing a hand over his face, he pulled himself together. Tonight had been traumatic. They were both vulnerable and when you mixed in the Lure, everything became more convoluted.

“Are you alright?” Mer asked.

His gaze flickered to her once more.

It didn’t help that his wife pranced through the house in a scrap of a nightdress. Even now he could clearly see her breasts right through the dress. He cursed and snatched a blanket off the nearest chair and slung it over her shoulders.

“Here,” he said gruffly. “You looked cold.”

A grateful smile lifted her lips.

It struck him.

“Beautiful,” he breathed.

Her smile froze and Raz cursed himself for being so stupid but he was transfixed by her lips. They were the color of the inside of the softest pink shell. He found himself leaning toward her before he jerked upright.

No.

Raziel backed away before flopping down into the old armchair with a heavy sigh.

This would not do. All he was feeling was loss and was desperately seeking comfort. Nothing more nothing less.

Mer padded over to the bed and pulled back the covers. She stared at the mattress for a long time.

What was she doing?

“You can sleep in it,” she said.

He flinched. “Excuse me?”

She slowly faced him, playing with the hem of her nightdress before finally meeting his eyes. “You can sleep in the bed. If you want.”

He’d been making his bed in front of the fireplace and his back hurt something fierce.

His eyes narrowed. Was there a trap here?

“And where will you sleep?” he asked.

She arched a pale eyebrow at him and climbed into bed. “With you, of course.”

He crossed his arms. Just what sort of mischief was this? They’d finally found an uneasy truce and now she was inviting him into her bed. His gaze turned to the door. She’d thrown him outside the last time he’d walked in on her bathing.

“Why the sudden change of heart?”

Mer shrugged, the nightdress slipping off her pale shoulder, revealing so much creamy skin that his mouth actually watered.

The bloody traitor.

Was that intentional or was she just naturally seductive? Either way it bothered him.

“You’ve been working as hard as I have,” she said softly. “Today was rough for both of us. You deserve to have a good night’s rest.” She gave him a crooked smile that made his heart race. “Plus with all your tossing and turning on these creaky floorboards, you’re keeping me awake.”

All plausible, but did he trust it?

“Also, I’m freezing.” She shivered and pulled the blankets higher.

“If you wore more clothes, you wouldn’t be so cold.”

Her smile turned impish. “They’re itchy and I don’t like the way they feel against my scales.”

“Will your blade be sleeping with us as well?” he asked.

Mer bit her bottom lip and pulled the blade from beneath the pillow. She held it out on the flat of her palm. “You can keep it safe for the night.”

If he had been standing, he would have staggered.

She was showing trust. Perhaps he could as well.

Raziel slowly stood and ate up the distance between them. He stared down at her and curled her fingers around the pommel of the shell dagger. “Keep it. I want you to feel safe.”

Tears filled her eyes, and she held the dagger to her chest. Mer blinked them away and scooted back onto the left side of the bed. He walked around the bed to the bathtub and changed into a new pair of pants, keenly feeling his wife’s gaze.

Did she find him as appealing as he found her? He wiped the sand from his feet, adjusted their makeshift door, and fed the fire one more time. His nerves racked up a notch as he approached the bed. Mer watched him.

“Are you sure?”

“Get in the bloody bed.”

Raziel huffed and slid into the bed, facing Mer.

She squirmed until she got comfortable and then stared back.

“Are we going to talk about Coven?” he managed to ask, his grief rising.

“No. I can’t tonight.”

Some of the tension in his shoulders loosened. He didn’t think he could either. “I don’t know if I can sleep.” He feared the nightmares that would surely come.

Mer nodded in understanding. Her hand crept out from beneath her pillow and she laid it between them.

An offering.

Raziel slowly took her small hand in his own and she squeezed his fingers. “You’re not alone. Just match your breaths to mine and close your eyes.”

Raz didn’t want to look away from the stunning picture she made but he did as he was told. Mer began to hum, a sound so soothing it seemed to fill all the cracks inside his soul.

And Raz discovered that holding the hand of the woman you’re falling for was the perfect cure for insomnia.

Right before he fell asleep, he heard her whisper.

“You once asked me what my trident meant. It’s a brand for those who betray the crown.

Your tattoos mark you as a king, and nine as a traitor.

What a pair we are.” He barely registered a kiss on his cheek, his eyelids too heavy to open. “Never trust me.”