In the Veins of the Drowning(68)

My mouth gaped. His reaction stunned me. “Fine.”

“You’re not.” He searched me, then took my hand and tugged me forward until I lay over the top of him. My surprise made me pliable, and I melted into him as he wrapped me in his arms.

“What are you doing?” I whispered with my face tucked below his chin. “Aren’t you… Aren’t I repellent to you now—”

He gave an amused snort. “I’m sorry, Immy,” he said into my hair. The use of my name, sweetened and short, had me lifting my head in surprise. His stare was reverent, warm, steadfast. “You are far, far from repellent.”

I squeezed my eyes shut and rested back upon his chest. My relief was complete.

“Let’s decide together,” he said, softly, “that our fathers have no power over who we are and what we become.”

I managed a slow, grateful nod. The pace of his heart soothed me. Reluctantly, he finally loosened his hold, and I settled onto the mattress beside him. My head on his shoulder, a leg draped over his.

His thumb stroked my bare knee. “Did Rohana say anything else?”

A rush of bitter tension moved through me. I hadn’t the strength, nor the courage, to tell him the whole of it. To tell him that I would bring ruin. That he might abandon everything he held important because of me. His kingdom wouldn’t survive a war with the continent of Obelia, and if I tried to keep him, as Rohana said I should, it would certainly mean war. Earning Theodore’s resentment would grind me to dust.

I burrowed in closer to him, knowing I shouldn’t, but unable to stop myself. “My mother’s wing hangs on Nemea’s wall. I wonder if it’s his crown Rohana saw ripped from his head. The familial bond between us cut. I wonder if I—”

“Your mother’s wing—” Theodore’s grip on my knee tightened. “He hung Ligea’s wing on his fucking wall?” He twisted to meet my eye. “You’re thinking of going after Nemea, aren’t you? Absolutely not.”

“When our bond is severed, you’ll care far less about where I go and what kind of danger I’m in.”

His gaze sharpened. “Do you really believe that?” His voice was harsh, but his touch gentled as it coasted up my leg. He gripped my hip through the thin towel, spoke soft and close. “If you are hurt, then all Sirens continue to suffer. My people. And yours. You need to keep yourself as safe as you possibly can. Climbing back up that mountain to face Nemea in the name of revenge does not see your bond with Eusia broken. We need to do that first.”

My breath shook at the way he touched me, at the intensity of his stare. There was desperation and longing in it, like he’d been sucked under a vicious tide for too long and was now taking his first gulp of precious air.

“What do you mean we?” I asked shakily as his hand slipped beneath my towel. His fingers traced delicately over my bare hip and every thought in my head turned to shimmering vapor. He played over the curve of my backside, the dip down into my waist. The color rose on his cheeks and his movements seemed to come easier. The nepenthe was working.

“You need to rest,” I whispered.

“Not now.” He coaxed me over the top of him and guided me with strong hands, so I straddled his stomach. I kept my towel tight around my body, breaths heavy, and met his eyes. They were smudged dark, drooping, but more ardent than ever. So gently, his fingers traced the line of my thighs, then slipped beneath the towel, where they grabbed onto my hips and held me tight.

This was foolish—I knew it was—but the outside world had turned battering, and touching him blunted my hurt, it stifled my fear.

“Tell me what you want.” His voice was like embers. Heat filled his palm as it skated around my hip to the bleeding spot on my stomach. When he finished closing the wound there, his hand inched up, slowly, slowly, until it rested between my breasts. Over my ragged heart. “Your wildest dreams.”

I could hardly breathe. “I don’t know.”

“You do.” When his fingers moved to trace the underside of my breast, he let out a dark groan that set me alight. “Tell me.”

My eyes fluttered shut, back arching as he slowly dragged his hand up to hold my breast. “I want a home, where it’s quiet and lovely.” My face warmed to speak something so trite. “Where I’m safe. I want to know others like me, so I feel less alone.” My body loosened, towel slipping down around my waist, as his fingers teased the tip of my breast. Slowly, Theodore sat up and wrapped an arm around my waist, pressing our chests together.

I gasped at the sensation, at the heat and hardness. I held still as he brushed his lips over mine, just barely.

“Immy,” he groaned into my mouth, forcing a decadent thrill through my body.

Then he kissed me. It was so fervid. So laced with want and promise, I thought he was trying to undo the impossibility of my desires with it. Each swipe of his tongue felt like a declaration, I will give you all that and more. I wove my fingers through his damp hair, letting the strands snare me. I’d never felt more wonderfully divine with my body wrapped around his, eagerly taking and taking and taking his lavishment. And it was more than I deserved, considering everything Rohana had revealed.

Chaos. Ruin. Death.

Theodore’s soft lips pressed to my chin, my jaw, down to my neck, and for a moment the terror of the prophecy burned away. Frenzied, I pulled at his buttons, then peeled his shirt down his shoulders. He rolled us and pressed me back into the pillows, only to grunt in frustration when his body ached too much to let him come over the top of me as easily as he wished. “I’ll curse the Gods for this until I die. I finally have you naked in a bed and I can barely move.”