Page 157 of Sunsplitter

“Like what?”

“Drunk.”

Antal scoffed. “I’m not drunk.” Maybe a little. A floating sensation lingered in his head. Hard to tell if that was from aedari blood, or just her.

Fionamara cupped his cheeks, eyes bright and wicked. “Askme again. Tomorrow. When you’re thinking straight.”

“I’ll ask you today.” Antal kissed her harder, dragging his tongue into her mouth. “Tomorrow.” He ran his teeth down her throat, relishing her moan. “I’ll ask you a thousand times, Fionamara. I’ll never stop wanting you.”

And then, neither of them had anything more to say. Antal had the taste of her in his mouth. Fionamara, hands urgently clawing his shoulders. He pushed her down against the bed, and he fucked her again, doomed by every piece of this woman.

Brought to life, each time she pleaded his name to the dark.

This bed was fine.

Not home, but the sheets were soft. Fi was warm in the cocoon she’d spun for herself. The air from the gardens fell cool and sweet against her cheeks.

Anywhere could be like home, with Antal’s arms around her.

Wife.

Fi lay awake in the twilight of early morning, her legs wrapped around his hip, his tail resting in her palm, listening to him sleep. His breath whispered against her shoulder, his words from last night a purr through drowsy thoughts.

Marry me. Be my wife.

My ezria.

She grinned. Such a soft beast, here in her arms. Maybe she’d enjoy tormenting him a little, drawing out her answer when he asked again.

Until she said yes, of course.

The past few weeks had been hard. They’d both been stubborn, and afraid, and wrenched in opposing directions. Despite all that, he’d listened. They’d worked together. In the stillnessof dawn, Fi lay in his arms and imagined how much else they could accomplish together.

For now, she desperately needed a bathroom.

Antal’s room had a small washing area, nothing suited to baser human needs—weird immortals and their food combustion, not needing bathrooms. Fi slipped out of his arms, drawing a mumble as he burrowed deeper into sleep. Morning air pricked gooseflesh across her bare skin. She dressed in the first pants and shirt she laid hands on in the dim light, then padded out the door, down the hall to the human wing of the house.

With her business finished, she walked back at a slower pace. The halls were quiet, the house asleep. Stone tiles passed cool beneath her bare feet. In the sitting room, a heady scent of flowers drifted through the open windows. Fi, drawn to the patio, stood on her own a moment and just… breathed. Took all this in. Her space within it.

She’d almost go so far as to describe the moment as tranquil.

Until a whisper of claws on stone pricked her ears.

Fi grabbed her sword hilt—because she’dneverbe caught without it again—spinning and Shaping a crimson blade to level at the daeyari behind her.

Avroz leaned against the doorframe, his expression dry as old bone.

“In my own home, vavraesa? How uncouth.”

All these calculations were becoming familiar: measuring the ten feet between them, Fi alone, the merits of fighting or running or shouting like a demon if he lunged for her.

Instead, he crossed the patio at a casual gait. Still dangerous. Despite the early hour, Avroz was fully dressed, simple clothes for traveling and dual sword hilts at his hip. The dark braid between his antlers was uncharacteristically mussed.

“Where haveyoubeen?” Fi asked.

He narrowed his eyes. Lowered to a growl. “Hunting.”

Meant to intimidate her, of course. But daeyari of the Twilit Plane didn’t hunt down their humans, they had them delivered.