“Like all Butchers, she was trained to fight from the moment she could walk. For the first fifteen years of her life, she never knew a scrap of kindness. She never knew people could be gentle or trusted. When she first arrived in Dreamsong, she didn’t even know what love looked like.” The smoldering coals illuminate Davien’s face more than the fading light of the sun as it quickly disappears on the other side of the mountains. “Giles was patient with her; he still is. He’s told me that he’s in no hurry and the best are always worth the wait.”
“He seems like a good man.” I draw my knees to my chest, hugging them. He meant well in the woods. He just…doesn’t understand.
“He is. But then again, I try and only keep the company of good men and women.”
“So how did you end up married to me?” I ask with a laugh.
“Because I think you are the best woman of them all.” Davien looks me directly in the eyes as he says it. There’s no hiding from him. His truths are relentless and catch me off guard at every turn.
“Then I guess you don’t know me very well,” I say softly.
“I think I know you better than you want me to.”
“How?”
“How does anyone learn anything? I paid attention. I listened while you sang. I heard the melodies you played from the heart. I watched your movements with more attention than I ever gave to the studies that would help me assume the crown.”
“You lie.” My voice is a whisper now, incapable of anything stronger.
“I wish I could.” He grins, lips highlighted in red by the coals. “But you know I can’t.” Davien leans forward, shifting onto his knees. He almost prowls toward me, erasing the gap between us with slow, deliberate movements. I lean backward, palms splayed on the wooden floor behind me. He’s hunting me, like a beast of shadow and firelight. He kills the space between us. With a glance he strikes me between the ribs. I’m helpless. “My every thought returns to you. You are like a whirlwind, down and down I spin, every time, until I’m caught in your center. Now, I know there is only one way to escape.”
“And how is that?” I’m framed by his arms as he supports himself above me. One knee is between my legs, shifting as he moves forward.
“To give in, to stop fighting, and see where you take me.”
His lips crash on mine with a force that pushes me back in a mirror of how he had me the night before. My arms fly up and wrap around his neck for stability. He holds me to him with one hand, the other supporting both of us. I feel the strength of him above me, around me, protecting me. I groan softly as my body arches toward him without command.
How did we end up here? Wasn’t I thinking earlier about how I could never allow this to happen again and that it was nothing more than an itch? Why is he kissing me now? Why do I want it all so badly?
They’re questions I can’t answer because my mind is blank, yet for the first time my heart feels full.
Slowly, he eases me down to the floor, never breaking the kiss. His tongue runs along my lips and I grant him entry. The second I do he probes in gentle exploration. I further deepen the kiss, acting in kind.
In these moments, there are no thoughts. I no longer worry about what is and what might be, what could or couldn’t be. I don’t fear for the future and what it might hold for me in that lonely house back in the Natural World, protected from everything, separate from everyone.
There’s only him, his heat, his life. He exhales, I inhale, and we breathe in tandem. My world narrows to consist only of him—his one hand in my hair, the other on my breast.
I dig my hands into the folds of his shirt, tugging. All of our clothes are suddenly tight and ill fitting. There’s more to the want that drives me. I haven’t had enough of him yet. I want to expose him. I want to kiss until we are broken and breathless and glorious in the night.
His mouth leaves mine, heaving breaths ragged. “We should stop, love.”
The word is a bucket of ice water crashing over me. I stare up at him, grip weakening on his clothes. He must see the horror in my face because there is a flash of panic in his eyes.
“You said—”
“It is a mere expression,” he murmurs, leaning forward to slide his lips over mine once more, as though he intends to silence my already racing thoughts with a mere kiss. “Don’t read into it.”
Did you mean it, though?
The question doesn’t escape me. It fills me with too much panic. I push him off, scrambling to collect myself.
“Katria…”
I can’t face him. I wrap my arms around me and hold myself tightly, nails digging into my triceps. “We made a deal,” I finally whisper.
“Nothing but entertainment. I remember.”
“No feelings.”
