Every blink was a battle, every breath a war.
Need burned hot in his gaze, its fire consuming all the air from the room. My mouth felt painfully dry, and when I wet my lips, his eyes snapped to the movement, looking like a wild fox caught in a hunter’s snare.
He moved more hungrily now, emboldened by my body’s treacherous reaction. His broad hands curved around my sides and traced the edge of my gown’s open back, following its hem until his hands rested perilously, scandalously low. His fingers hooked on the fabric’s edge, curving beneath it, knuckles grazing smoothly over my skin.
It was such a simple act, not much different than the way his hand always found its way to my back, its warm presence becoming a crutch for my wobbling confidence.
But this was no reassuring caress. This was Luther laying his claim on what I hadn’t dared to reveal. Asking for what I hadn’t yet offered.
What do you want, Luther?
Something I cannot have.
Warmth exploded through me. A sinful heat pooled at my core and set every nerve ending sparking with simmering energy. My hands curled against his chest, clutching at the dark crimson fabric of his lapels.
I tried, desperately, to remind myself I was a betrothed woman. A betrothal I was becoming less sure of with every day, but betrothed nonetheless.
“Luther,” I whispered.
“My Queen,” he breathed.
Our faces drew close, and I honestly didn’t know which of us had done it. My nose brushed his, our mouths so near that his breath warmed my lips.
I needed to pull away, put distance and cold, empty air between our bodies. I needed to remind him, and myself, that we were allies, reluctant friends at best, but nothing more. Never anything more.
And I tried to do that. I really, truly did.
But my body wouldn’t obey.
My heart wouldn’t, either.
I used the last shred of self-preservation I had left. I slipped my arms around his waist, laid my cheek over his heart, and pulled him against me in a hug that was eager for all the wrong reasons.
He didn’t move. I could sense his confusion, and I understood it. I was a coward, hiding from his desire in his very own arms. But within seconds, he embraced me like it was the most normal thing in the world, one arm roped low on my waist, the other stroking my hair and pressing me to his chest.
His chin settled on top of my head, and we burned together for a tiny eternity, saying nothing and too much all at once.
It felt so natural to be held by him like this. So right in a way that didn’t make sense.
“Why are you helping me?” I asked, my voice barely there.
I felt his muscles strain as he swallowed. “I have many reasons.”
“Give me one. The truest one. And don’t tell me it’s because of your family or my mother or the Crown, because I won’t believe you.”
“It’s not.”
His heartbeat thundered against my cheek, and I held my breath. I wanted badly to pull back and see his face, but I was too terrified of what I might see, and what I might do next.
“The truest reason,” he repeated with a sigh. “I wish…” His arms tightened around me. “I… I can’t—”
A loud knock thumped on the door.
We both froze in place, though neither of us pulled away.
Another knock rang out, followed by two muffled voices from the other side.
“Diem? It’s Eleanor—”
“And Taran.”
“—are you alright in there? Do you need anything? Maybe some food, or chocolate, or—”
“Or whiskey?”
“Remind me again why I brought you.”
“Because I’m fun. Hey Diem, is Luther in there? Are you two doing something naughty?”
“Blessed Kindred, Taran, stop!”
Suddenly, it was far easier to yank myself out of Luther’s grasp and force some space between us. I avoided his eyes—and the longing I felt at the loss of his touch—as I moved to the door and pulled it open. “Food, no. Chocolate, yes. Whiskey… maybe.”
Taran flashed me a grin that only grew wider as his eyes jumped between me and whatever Luther looked like as he joined me at the door.
“Are we interrupting something?” he asked, wiggling his brows.
“Ignore him,” Eleanor said with an exaggerated eyeroll. “Are you alright? What happened?”
“I’m fine.” I forced a smile and a nonchalant shrug. “The funeral was getting dull, so I decided to liven things up a bit.”
Taran snorted. I winced in anticipation of his ribbing, banter that I would normally welcome if I wasn’t feeling quite so raw, but he didn’t offer up any jokes. Instead, he lumbered forward and wrapped me up in a swinging bear-hug that hauled me all the way off my feet as he squeezed the air from my lungs.
“Don’t worry about it, Queenie. We’ve got your back.”
I went limp, half from shock and half from mild asphyxiation. “Thank you,” I wheezed.
“Taran, please don’t snap Her Majesty’s ribs,” Luther said calmly.
“Come on, look at her, she likes it!”
“Her gryvern doesn’t.”
“Wrong, cousin. Sorae loves my hugs.”
Sorae snapped her jaws, and whether it was a threat or an agreement was anyone’s guess. Taran set me back down, only for me to be yanked into Eleanor’s embrace.
“I refuse to say these two words ever again, but Taran’s right.” She pulled back and placed a palm to my cheek. “You’re one of us now, and you have our full support.”
I looked from Eleanor to Taran and finally to Luther, three sets of blue eyes shining with genuine affection. I had arrived here with a plan to destroy, expecting to find a world full of Remises and Garaths and even Aemonns.
I hadn’t expected to find friends.
My plan might need a bit of revising.
“Thank you.” I gave them a wobbly smile. “That means a great deal to me.”
“Do you want to talk about it?” Eleanor asked.
A crease cut between my brows as I stared down at my upturned palms. “That was the first time I’ve ever tried to use my magic on purpose. I thought I had it, but then…”
“You need to start training,” Luther said sternly. “We can set aside some time each day—Alixe and I can help you.”
“And me,” Taran huffed.
I frowned. “This means you think I’m definitely going to be Challenged.”
“This isn’t about the Challenging,” Luther said.
I shot him a look, and he sighed.
“It’s not only about the Challenging. You’re the most powerful Descended in the realm. Magic like that can be dangerous if it’s not controlled.”
“Come on, Queenie,” Taran said with a sly grin. “Don’t you want to get all hot and sweaty training with me and Lu?”
I raised my brows at Eleanor and Luther. “Is he always like this?”
“Yes,” they groaned in unison.
“Fine,” I said, laughing. “I’ll train with Luther and Alixe. And Taran, if I must.”
I turned to Luther, looking at him closely for the first time since our intimate moment. That striking, unguarded smile of his was peeking through. A glint in his eyes hinted at a secret only we shared, putting my heart right back into a gallop.