Nyktos waited, and in that moment, I knew he would do it. Not because he was fond of me or cared, but because he felt responsible. Guilty. Maybe even remorseful. Sympathetic.
I exhaled roughly and forced out, “No.”
“You sure?”
“Yes. It wouldn’t be…it wouldn’t be worth it in the end.” I didn’t want her blood on my hands. I already had enough.
“If you ever change your mind, I know a guy who can get it done.”
I shook with a wet-sounding laugh. “Was that a Primal of Death joke?”
“Perhaps.” Several long moments passed. Neither of us moved. His hand was still on my cheek. Our eyes were locked, and the contact, the closeness…I soaked it in. Then he drew back and lowered his hand, and I missed his touch immediately. “You need to rest,” he continued before I could say anything. “And I’m not ordering you about. If you choose not to, it’s up to you. But your body needs it. Whether you want to admit it or not, the Culling causes everyone to weaken more easily, and you’ve already pushed past that once. The headaches will come back faster and worse than before, and you could go into another rest.”
“I don’t want that,” I murmured.
“Good. Neither do I.” His gaze tracked over my face. “The embers of life in you are very strong.”
“Yeah, I figured. You know”—I lifted my hands, wiggling my fingers—“I can bring people back from the dead and, apparently, summon them when I’m really angry.”
There was a slight warming in his eyes. “I wasn’t talking about either of those things. You were cut with shadowstone. That would kill a mortal. It would also kill a godling. Your skin and veins would already bear the mark of it, and what blood of mine you have in you wouldn’t have stopped it.”
“Oh.” My eyes went wide. He was right. I’d forgotten. Looking down, I yanked up my sweater. The cut was there, angry but no longer bleeding. “Wow.”
“Yes. Wow,” he repeated dryly.
A giggle crept up my throat, and that was totally the whiskey.
Nyktos smiled faintly. “Makes you wonder how else the Primal embers may be protecting you.”
Chapter 13
There was a padlock on the balcony doors when I returned to my chambers.
Obviously, that wasn’t to stop someone from taking me. It wasn’t necessary with the charm.
Part of me couldn’t be all that mad about seeing it there. I smirked as I stared at it. Did he think I couldn’t pick a lock? The lock wasn’t the only new addition to the room, though. It took an ungodly amount of time for me to see the book lying on the table by the doors, and I thought it was the one Orphine had been reading.
I ate my supper, once more alone. Fresh water came quickly after that, and I cleaned up as I had before. The wound on my side hadn’t reopened, and as I gently prodded the skin, I thought it looked like a cut that was several days old instead of merely hours.
Makes you wonder how else the Primal embers may be protecting you.
I was beginning to wonder that myself.
More tired than I wanted to acknowledge, I dragged on a heavy forest green robe that I hadn’t worn yet, not even bothering with a nightgown. I went to the chaise and picked up the book. The writing was faint but legible, and yet the words still blurred as I stared at the page. I couldn’t focus. As the hour grew late, Nyktos’s plan occupied my thoughts. If and when Hanan would send more warriors, the questions I had about this army I didn’t know existed, and the fact that I couldn’t believe I’d spoken about Tavius or my life in Lasania. I didn’t like to think about those last two things, let alone speak about them. It made me feel itchy in my skin.
Rising, I went to the table and picked up the bottle of wine brought in with supper. It was sweet, and I took one long swallow, then another as I tried to distract myself with the book. That was a failure because the wine sure hadn’t helped the process. It had me staring at Nyktos’s door more and more, considering really foolish things.
I shrugged off the robe, letting it lay where it fell. I didn’t bother putting on a stitch of clothing, too warm from the crackling flames in the fireplace and the wine. I then put myself to bed before the wine goaded me into doing something reckless.
Like going to that damn door.
I smirked, imagining Nyktos’s reaction if I walked into his chamber, naked as the day I was born. He would…
What would he do?
My smirk faded as I turned my head, looking at the door. My thoughts found their way in there. In my mind, I saw his massive bed. Was he there? Resting? Or was he unable to sleep, too? Was he thinking of dark events that had taken place over the last several days? Or was he thinking about us on his bed?
I closed my eyes at the sharp pulse of desire. Shifting onto my back, I searched for something else to dwell on, but my mind betrayed me. It took me right back into his bedchamber, showing us on the bed, me on my knees, and Nyktos’s large body caging mine as he had on the Rise. There was nothing between our sweat-slick bodies, and every stroke of his was deep. It was a pleasure that had bordered on punishing. The fierceness of how he moved was far too easy to recall. It didn’t even seem like a memory, not when I could feel him even now, between my thighs and inside me. I closed my eyes, biting down on my lip as the need returned.
I kicked at the blanket twisted around my legs in frustration. Gods, why was I doing this to myself?
Carefully rolling onto my side again, I stared at the door once more. For a reckless moment, I entertained the idea of going to that door, finding it unlocked and entering his bedchamber. There was no smirk on my face now as I wondered if I would find Nyktos sleeping in his bed. Would he welcome me? Want me? Without regret? The breath I took was reedy as I imagined him curving his body around mine, touching me. Eyes drifting shut, I squeezed my thighs together, pressing my balled hand to my chest. My skin felt hot as I forced my fingers wide. My fingertips grazed the now-barely-there indentations left behind from Nyktos’s bite, sending an illicit thrill through me. The ache deep inside me throbbed as I drew a finger over a hardened nipple. My hips rocked—
There was a sound, quiet and too quick for me to make out. My eyes flew open, sweeping past the door to the drapes drawn across the balcony door. I saw nothing but shadows and night, but the chamber…it felt different. The darkness seemed charged. Had I turned off the lamp? Had it even been on when I lay down? I couldn’t remember thanks to the whiskey and the wine. But the chamber was empty except for me and my need, which felt as if it had become its own entity, filling the space even beyond the bed. I closed my eyes again, willing myself to sleep, but in the quiet, all I could think about was Nyktos’s mouth closing on my throat, my breast.
Open for me.
I shivered at the memory of his heated demand, easing onto my back. I kicked at the blanket again, welcoming the cooler air as it washed over my bare skin. It did nothing to ease the fire. The charged air only seemed to enflame it. My other hand fell to my stomach, pressing against my bare skin. The tips of my breasts tingled under my fingers as I moved restlessly, pressing my rear into the mattress. The dampness gathering between my thighs only increased.
My pulse thrummed as I slid my hand down as I had when I answered his demand. I hesitated, not from shame or inexperience—I’d pleasured myself before, obviously. But I didn’t let my mind wander to how I’d learned to do so—those memories were not welcome here—I hesitated because there would be no faceless, nameless visage in my mind like the times before. The lines and planes would be clear, as would the name. If I touched myself, it would be Nyktos’s fingers I imagined inside me. There would be no denying that.