Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
Soft fingers trace my stubbled jaw, a butterfly kiss pressed to the corner of my mouth. Hesitant. Tentative. Hands skate down my neck. A gentle breath huffed against my collarbone.
Squinted gaze—breathtaking blue awaits me.
“Zevayr,” she whispers. Her legs tangle with mine, each movement growing bolder. “Touch me.”
Skies know I’ve wanted to. But I can’t. I shouldn’t.
Knowing eyes flicker, then a soft hand tugs mine.
The rapid beat of her heart beneath my palm. Shallow, heaving breaths.
She guides me lower. Her energy signature thrums with anticipation.
A gentle squeeze of her hip, and then—
“You killed them.” Her voice is icy. My gaze snaps up—cold hatred.
She wrenches in my arms, flinging herself back. “You killed them!”
“I—”
My eyes flutter open.
Breathtaking blue. My breath escapes me.
But there’s no hatred—just heat.
Shit. My hand is gripping her hip, the other arm beneath her, possessively splayed across her back.
She stiffens. I jerk back.
“Sorry.” I clear the sleep lingering in my throat. “I overslept.”
“It’s all right,” she says softly, lips curving into a tentative smile. My eyes track the movement, throat bobbing. Warmth floods her cheeks in a delicious shade of pink.
Skies damn me to the end of days.
“Your brother,” she says suddenly. Her throat bobs as she swallows. “Has he also fought in many battles?”
Faramir. Her betrothed.
She’s reminding me she’s promised to someone else. Even if I hadn’t murdered her friends, she would never—
“No. Earthwielder or not, the crown prince is excused from combat. Too risky for the future king.”
“Oh. Are you two … close?”
“No.”
I get up before she can ask anything else.
And to rinse away the taste of ash on my tongue.
The fire crackles behind me, its heat brushing against my back. My cloak rests heavy over me where I lie on the blanket, pretending to sleep while Mayah takes watch. Her energy signature thrums softly, like it’s beckoning me.
It’s not beckoning you, idiot. Clear your fucking head.
I can’t deny that I’ve been attracted to her from the beginning—since she slapped me, really. Something about her unflinching defiance draws me in. I’d expected a vapid and vain princess, yet she’s surprised me at every turn.
And I can’t remember the last time my neck prickled. No teeth-grinding sensations have plagued me since I’ve been alone with her—a peace I’ve never known. Mayah doesn’t lie. Ever, it seems.
It was easier to suppress my attraction before—when she openly hated me. But something shifted between us last night. I told her of Lev. Things I’d never told anyone.
And what she told me…
Guilt burns my lungs. I can never tell her the truth. What purpose would it serve? She’s Faramir’s betrothed. Not mine. I owe her nothing.
The fire sizzles as she kicks snow over it, and I force my breaths to even out in a mimicry of sleep.
The soft crunch of her footsteps draws nearer.
A gentle sigh as she unlaces and removes her boots, sets them beside mine.
A rustle of fabric, and a contented moan. The soft sound sets my nerves alight.
I crack my eyes open in a narrowed sliver—her glowing hands pass over the bare skin of her legs, goosebumps visible in the moonlight. I shut my eyes again, suppressing a smile. Delicate baby.
When she peels back the blanket and nestles her head against my arm, dangerous warmth crackles through my chest. And then—
Soft hands press against my neck. It’s all I can do not to stiffen. I keep my breaths deep and slow, even as her power flows through me, soothing every sore muscle and aching limb.
She’s healing me.
The warmth in my chest threatens to set me aflame.
Only when I’m certain she’s asleep do I open my eyes. Her beautiful, moonlit face is free from worries—and her usual ire. Dark hair frames her features, spilling over my bicep. Something sharp pricks my heart.
She looks peaceful. And in my arms, she looks mine.
I’m fucked.
The next night, I portion twice as much snowshoe hare for her than myself.
“I can’t eat this much,” Mayah says, frowning at my smaller meal. “And you’re literally three times my size. You need it more.” She moves to reallocate our portions, but I grasp her wrist, trying to ignore the softness of her skin beneath my fingers.
“If you’re going to spend your nights healing us both, you need more food to replenish your reserves.”
She yanks her hand back as though I’ve burned her, cheeks heating to a delicious shade of pink.
What else would make her blush so prettily?
“You were awake,” she mumbles, avoiding my gaze.
“I usually am. Men need less sleep than women.”
She gapes at me. “Then why even pretend to let me take first watch if you’re not going to sleep?”
I shrug, the corners of my mouth twitching. “Because I know you wouldn’t tolerate anything less than being treated as my equal.” And I admire that tenacity in her.
I seem to have convinced her because she only gives back half the extra meat.
“Are you upset?” she asks quietly. “I used my power on you without permission. I should’ve asked first.”
I avert my gaze. Guilt sparks through me. Everything she says is subjected to my truthwielding. There’s no choice to lie or to conceal—and she doesn’t know.
Not that she’s lied at all.
“No,” I finally say. “You were doing me a kindness.”
“If I had asked,” she adds quickly, “you would’ve said, ‘No, Mayah. You’re just a Tundrayni baby. I’m a big, strong man. Save your reserves. I don’t need the element of surprise to overpower you because I’m a big, scary man.’”
Her imitation of me is so skiesdamned adorable that a rumbling, genuine laugh bursts from my lips.
“You don’t need to heal me every night,” I murmur, amusement still lacing my voice. “I’m used to sore muscles. And you are a delicate baby.”
She glares at me, aggressively biting into the charred rabbit meat. “I’m not a baby.”
“You need more sleep, too.”
“How do you know men need less sleep than women?”
My lips curve into a wicked smile that has her cheeks flaming. “Never mind,” she mutters. “Don’t answer that.”
Skies, I want to keep teasing her, keep making her blush.
I want to do so many things. My gaze flits to her betrothal ring, the black diamond mocking me in the firelight.
It’s better to stop now.
But it’s Mayah that continues treading into dangerous waters. “Have you been with … many women?” She can’t meet my gaze.
“Define ‘many.’”
I don’t think she could look more embarrassed.
“More than five.”
Oh, Mayah. A chagrined yet wolfish smile is my answer.
Her cheeks flush into a deeper pink. “It’s not fair,” she huffs. “There’s no purity test you need to worry about.”
“You’re right,” I agree. “It isn’t fair. The purity test is archaic.”
“Really?” Her eyes widen with surprise. “You wouldn’t care if your wife wasn’t pure?”
“I didn’t say I wouldn’t care. If I … loved her, I’d probably be burning with jealousy at the thought of her with someone else.”
My hands clench and unclench in my lap.
A raindrop lands on her cheek.
Not her. I’m not thinking of her.
My power thrums inside me as I lie to myself. I need to temper it before thunder rumbles and alerts her to my roiling emotions.
“There’d be a perpetual storm over my head. But I wouldn’t begrudge her something that happened before she was mine. I’d hope she wouldn’t begrudge me the same.”
I stoke the crackling flames with a branch, avoiding her depthless blue gaze. “And it wouldn’t be anyone’s business but mine and hers. I don’t see the need to parade the knowledge of her alleged ‘purity’ before anyone else.”
“Does Faramir share your sentiments?”
I stiffen as soon as my brother’s name passes her lips.
“No. He’ll insist on the purity test.” The thought of someone—a stranger—seeing her undressed, touching her, has my jaw clenching until my teeth ache.
“And has he remained ‘pure’?”
I shake my head. My gut churns at the idea of Mayah with my psychotic brother. He’ll—
She snorts. “That’s awfully hypocritical.”
I’m inclined to agree, though I remain silent.
A question lingers in my mind—did she mention the purity test because she’s worried about passing?
I sensed that the insufferable captain of the royal guard knew her …
intimately. He must have, to flaunt his possessiveness like a badge.
Bile rises in my throat the thought of them together. The princess and her guard. Did they—
No.
It’s none of my business.
She’s not my betrothed. If she made that decision, she’ll face the consequences in Arbinj.
And it would be entirely unethical to ask—she doesn’t know that, even if she chooses to lie, I’d know anyway. I’d rob her of her decision. I’d be stealing the truth. I can’t ask, I—
“Are you … worried about passing the purity test?”
I despise myself.
Her cheeks flame red, and Skies damn me for the indecent thoughts that flit through my mind.
“No,” she finally says. “The purity test will be uncomfortable, to say the least. I’d rather slit my wrists than let some stranger prod around, um, me.
But I’m not worried about passing. It’s just …
I don’t relish the idea of marrying a man who holds me to a different standard. I’d want him to see me as his equal.”
My head snaps toward her—equal. Is she referencing what I said earlier about wanting my wife to be my equal?
I’ve been a mindless fool since she slapped me.
When I first set eyes on her in the throne room, I’d thought her beautiful—but it was her defiance that appealed to me, even then.
Her fierceness, her sharp tongue, her stubbornness.
That, and the fact that she hasn’t told a single lie so far … I can’t deny that I’m drawn to her.
Is there any possibility she feels the same?
She breaks my gaze, bolting to her feet and holding a hand over her heart. “I—I’m still going to marry your brother, of course. Archaic traditions or not.”
“Of course.” My voice is flat.
Her lips press into a nervous smile. My gaze drops to her mouth even as my heart plummets into my stomach.
Of course, she doesn’t feel the same way. How could she? I’m the loathed Dark Commander that’s haunted her kingdom for years.
She doesn’t care for me in the least. Never will.
And it’s for the best. There’s no future where I end up with her. I can only curse the Skies for pairing her with Faramir.
“No more pretend first watches for me,” she stammers. “I’m going to sleep.” Before I can answer, she darts to the blanket and nestles her slight frame beneath my cloak.
Later, when I join her, she pretends to sleep.
I pretend I don’t notice.