To end the curse and live, you must kill the queen. The memory of Bakken’s words makes my stomach heave. If I kill his mother on top of everything else, I will truly lose Sebastian.
“I can practically see you drifting away on your thoughts.” Chuckling, he wipes his mouth with his napkin, then reaches for a decanter of wine, tilting it to fill our glasses. “Drink with me and let go for an hour.”
After he goes to bed, I will have to go to the library and make a plan for the Grimoricon. I initially planned on taking it immediately—it kills me to wait—but Sebastian might be suspicious if it’s missing when he takes me back to the library tomorrow. And since I have no replica of this relic, I will need to wait.
I can give him an hour. After all he’s done for me, all he’s endured and is likely to endure, he deserves that and more. And maybe I deserve it too. An hour.
I lift my glass to my lips and drink. Within minutes, my worries fall away.
Chapter Thirty
SEBASTIAN SPINS ME AROUND and presses my back against a tall wooden door. “This is your room,” he whispers against my lips.
My skin is warm, my cheeks flushed from the wine, and my heart full from the conversation. One hour turned to two, and it was like old times—just the two of us, talking and laughing.
“This is where I’m supposed to say good night.” His hands drift slowly down my sides—fingertips leaving a burning trail in their wake. When he reaches my hips, he squeezes gently.
I slide a hand behind his neck and study his face. I love the strong lines of his jaw, the piercing beauty of those sea-green eyes, his slightly parted lush lips. “So soon?”
Smiling, he brushes those lips over mine. Once, twice. The third time, his tongue sweeps across my bottom lip, and I melt a little. “Thank you for this. I know nothing’s simple right now, but I’m glad we’re here.”
Me too. I know it’s the wine, but right now I’m glad for everything, from the heat of his body to the fact that there’s a bed on the other side of this door. “I need to tell you a secret,” I whisper.
He pulls back, his eyes searching mine, his face solemn. “Yes?”
“I don’t deserve you.” I thought I could make a joke of it, but tears prick my eyes. “And one day you’re going to realize that.” You’re going to realize I’ve used you to give Mordeus what he wants. You’re going to realize I’ve weakened your kingdom to save my sister. And you’re going to know that even as sorry as I am that it will hurt you, if it means saving Jas, I would do it all over again.
“Hey.” He strokes his thumb along my jaw. “None of that. We were having a good time, and these tears are gutting me. I’m the one who doesn’t deserve you, but I’m too selfish to let you go.”
I bury my face in his chest and shake my head. “Don’t let me go. I need you to hold on.”
His swallow is the only sound in the quiet hall. “I thought I could walk away until it was safe, but I was wrong.”
I lift my head. “Until it was safe?”
“You are in danger every moment you remain in my realm, yet I can’t bring myself to . . .” He searches my eyes. “You don’t understand yet, but I need you.”
“Bash . . .” I lift to my toes and press my mouth to his.
I want to drag him to my bed and beg him the way the drugs made me beg Finn. When Sebastian touches me, it feels like walking into the sun after a week stuck in Madame V’s cellar. I forget all about my conflicting feelings for the Unseelie prince. About Finn’s secrets and his tributes. About the queen and the book. About a little girl’s prophecy and a goblin’s glee at telling me I have to kill the queen if I want to break the Unseelie curse without dying.
Sebastian kisses me back with more intensity than before. His hands plunge into my hair, and he tilts my mouth to his. I want to soak him up. To revel in these moments until I’m covered in them. Whatever my life is after he finds out the truth, I want to be able to remember this feeling—being loved and protected by Sebastian. Not Prince Ronan, not the next Seelie king, but my Bash.
When he pulls away, his breathing is ragged. He leans his forehead against mine. “I can go to my own chambers or I can go in with you.” He swallows. “But if I stay, I need you to ask. I need to know this is what you want. That you’re ready.”
I graze my fingertips along his jaw, relishing the short stubble I feel there. My feelings may be as complicated as my loyalties, but what I want from him right now isn’t complicated at all. “I want you to come inside. I want you to stay.”