Chapter Twenty
I’m in my bedroom in Tundrayn—ice-white walls, heavy furs thrown over fevered skin. There’s an ache, an unbearable ache seizing my body. A breathy moan escapes my parted lips.
I’m not alone.
The scrape of stubble on my thighs, calloused hands spreading my legs.
Hot kisses on hotter skin. A nimble, searching tongue.
A quick swipe through pooled slick—too soft, too light. I need more.
My back arches, a desperate mewl echoing in the cold room.
A low, sinful chuckle. Another decadent kiss.
“Is this what you want, baby?” a gravel-rough voice rasps, and I know, I just know, he smells of smoke and pine.
A searing trail kissed up my belly, between my breasts, teeth nipping my fluttering pulse.
Warm breath fanning my neck, fingers skimming heaving ribs.
Too little. Too much. Not enough.
All I know is I’m empty. I’m so empty.
Muscled arms braced on either side of my head, stormy gray eyes dark with desire.
“Say it, Mayah,” he commands, his nose nudging mine.
I’ll say whatever he wants. Do whatever he demands.
“Zev.” His name is a plea, a prayer. “Zev, please.”
Wanton. Desperate.
His weight presses down, covering me—he’s hard everywhere I’m soft, and I’m ready, I’m—
Sunlight warms my face, chasing away the remnants of blissful sleep. I shift slightly, and my thighs slide together, an embarrassing amount of wetness pooled between them. The hazy dream flickers through my mind, and my face warms even more.
I try to sit up, but I can’t. My mouth is painfully dry.
I’m tied up.
“What—” My voice is hoarse and raspy, like I’ve swallowed broken glass. I try to move, but I’m unbalanced with my hands bound behind my back. Awareness slowly trickles in, anger quick to follow. “Untie me right now!”
“Are you feeling like yourself?” Zevayr asks, restrained amusement coloring his tone. He’s sitting a few feet away, watching me closely.
I’m about to curse him and his ancestors when my gaze snags on his neck—dark red bruises stark against his skin.
Ones I’d sucked into his flesh with my lips and teeth.
Last night’s events crash back into me with the force of a tsunami.
Tides drown me. Tides sweep me away into cold, unforgiving depths. Tides flood my lungs and make me yours.
It would be a mercy.
My face burns with humiliation.
The things I did—the things I said.
“I’ll take your reddening face as a yes.” Zevayr strides over and unties his belt from my wrists, then removes the rope from my ankles.
His hands linger as he massages circulation back into my wrists. There’s a quiet tension in his jaw, and his eyes are shadowed, like he didn’t sleep at all.
“I removed the gag after you fell asleep,” he explains, an apology in his tone.
I can’t meet his gaze.
Wordlessly, I rise and eat my breakfast in silence.
Tides, how will I ever face him again?
If only we had an earthwielder with us. He could split the ground beneath me and let the earth swallow me whole. Maybe I should ask Zevayr to incinerate me with lightning. Maybe if I try hard enough, I could stop my own heart. Or maybe if we find a stream—
Zevayr clears his throat, dancing eyes lingering on my warm cheeks.
“Remember when I said I had shared my power before?
It was one of my soldiers—a powerful earthwielder.
We were running low on food, all our reserves near drained.
Normally, he could grow an entire field—carrots, potatoes, berries—ready to harvest, in about an hour.
“But he’d been injured in the last battle and hadn’t fully recovered. So I channeled some of my power into him. And he grew enough food for two battalions in thirty minutes. But afterward…” Zevayr chuckles. “It took eight men to restrain him. He kept trying to sneak into my tent.”
I want to scowl. Or crawl into a hole and never emerge. But when Zevayr says, “he kept trying to sneak into my tent,” I lose it. A startled laugh bursts from my lips.
Zevayr grins, bright and unguarded.
“What did you do?” I ask, still giggling.
“He injured his guards with his wielding. After that, we used valerian root to sedate him. His wife still lords it over him.”
Another laugh escapes me, and he smiles broadly, as if the sound brings him joy. “You didn’t try half as hard as he did. I’m a little offended, if I’m being honest.”
Tears stream down my cheeks from laughter. Zevayr just watches me, eyes bright, his lips curved in a half-smile.
When my laughter subsides, a question lingers on my tongue. I quietly ask, “That couple I told you about, the one caught power sharing … they were just, they—” My face flushes, and I can’t finish my sentence, but Zevayr understands anyway.
“I’ve known couples who power share for … recreational purposes.”
“Have you ever done it?” The words escape before I can cage them.
He shakes his head. “It takes a great deal of trust.” Something soft flickers behind his eyes. “It’s not something I’ve found yet.”
We sit in silence before I can summon the words.
“Thank you.” He arches a brow. “For saving my life. I would’ve died if you hadn’t shared your power with me.
” I cut my gaze away. “And … for not taking advantage of me last night. I know I didn’t make it easy on you.
” My eyes linger on the love bites lining his neck. “And for your kindness about it now.”
He doesn’t say anything for several heartbeats, his gray eyes just studying me with something akin to wonder. Then slowly, his lips curve into a soft, genuine smile.
We’re packing up camp when he says, “You called me Zev last night.”
I freeze. That’s what his friend had called him. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”
“I liked it,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck. “It reminded me that … maybe I’m still someone worth trusting.”
My chest squeezes tight.
“So, yeah,” he continues, eyes flicking to mine. “You can call me Zev. If you want.”