46. Chapter 46
K aelin trailed her fingers up Ren’s spine, achingly and deliciously slow. “I’ve wanted to kiss you since the first time I saw you kneeling before me.”
Ren let out a breathless scoff, eyes narrowing despite the flush crawling up her neck. “Of course you did. Fae royalty sees one dirt-covered mortal on her knees and goes faint.”
Kaelin’s response was a wicked grin. “And what a lovely sight it was.”
Ren growled low in her throat. “You’re lucky I’m already on top of you.”
Kaelin’s smile slowly faded. “No,” Kaelin added, voice gentler now, a truth uncoiling between them. “It wasn’t then. Not really. It was the first day I saw you training.”
Kaelin’s hand came to rest against Ren’s jaw, thumb brushing just beneath her cheekbone.
“You were bruised, beaten. Surrounded by fae who wanted you broken. And still, you got back up.” Kaelin’s finger gently traced the outline of Ren’s lips.
“I couldn’t look away. Not because you were strong, but because you were angry.
Gritty. Alive . Like a fire they tried to stomp out that only burned hotter.
” She exhaled, a soft breath against Ren’s skin. “That’s when I knew.”
Ren’s mind reeled. All this time, she had thought Kaelin despised her and saw her as little more than a nuisance, a filthy human dragged into the splendor of the fae court.
Ren remembered those first days of autumn, the cool air biting at her skin while Kaelin’s eyes had seemed colder still, cutting her down with every glance.
Ren swallowed, voice unsteady as she whispered, “You’re not what I expected.”
“I’d hate to be predictable. It’s achingly boring.
” Kaelin’s hand lingered at Ren’s jaw, the tip of her nail tracing the gentle curve of Ren’s lower lip with a touch so careful it sent a shiver racing down Ren’s spine.
The gesture was almost reverent, as if Kaelin herself was caught between wanting to tease and needing to cherish.
Silence stretched between them at Kaelin’s words, their mouths no more than a hair’s breadth apart.
Ren looked up into the violet storms of the princess’s eyes, trying to understand a silent battle raging within her.
Beside Kaelin, Ren felt dull. Kaelin’s beauty was the kind that demanded notice, and she looked untouchable, carved from something finer than flesh and blood.
And yet, her gaze lingered on Ren, the human who was all bruises and rough edges, who had never been anyone’s vision.
Why in all the hells would she look at me like that?
But all of that – every reason, every damn argument – crumbled when Kaelin’s fingers found her chin.
Before Ren could rebuild her walls, Kaelin’s lips were on hers again, an exploratory kiss that conquered and claimed every crevice of Ren’s mouth.
Logic was gone. Survival instincts were gone. All that remained was the searing heat of Kaelin’s mouth against hers and the way it made Ren feel like she’d stepped into dangerous territory with no map and no intention of finding her way out.
Kaelin’s hand slid from Ren’s jaw, tracing down the side of her neck, her fingers curling around her throat.
The contact was warm, commanding, sending a shiver down Ren’s spine.
Kaelin drew her closer until there was no space left between them, their bodies aligned in a way that made Ren’s breath hitch.
The princess’s intoxicating scent enveloped her, pulling her further into a fog of want and need.
Ren’s hands slipped into Kaelin’s hair, the silky strands gliding between her fingers as Ren’s hands fisted there, seeking an anchor in the seemingly never-ending storm of lust that had formed between them .
“I’m not letting you go,” Kaelin murmured, voice low enough to tangle in Ren’s chest. Ren’s pulse roared in her ears. Saints help her, she didn’t want to be let go.
Suddenly, a thunderclap cracked through the sky like a whip, shattering the stillness of the garden.
Kaelin froze. Ren stilled too, her chest heaving as the air suddenly shifted, no longer charged with their shared passion, but with the promise of an impending storm.
Another thunderclap sounded, punctuating the sudden shift, and both looked through the windows to see storm clouds blooming in the distance.
Kaelin’s hands were still on her waist, but her expression had changed, distant eyes reflecting the stormlight.
Ren slid off her lap, heart pounding.
The moment had shattered. The spell broken by the gods themselves, it seemed. They stood in silence, the taste of what had just passed lingering between them.
What the hell was I doing?
Ren had just kissed Kaelin. As if this were some fairy tale instead of a world gnawed raw by rot and war.
Ren raked a hand through her hair, jaw clenched.
Her lips still tingled from the kiss, but her mind was already storming in another direction.
She didn’t know when the shift had started – weeks ago, maybe longer.
The stolen glances. The arguments that had balanced somewhere between disdain and desire. That magnetic pull.
It hadn’t come all at once. It had crept in like water through a cracked roof, slow and silent until it soaked her through. Now, even as she tried to steady herself, she felt wildly unraveled, especially between her legs, her body betraying her with a hunger she hadn’t meant to acknowledge.
Damn it.
She couldn’t afford this – whatever this was. She wasn’t about to play heartstrings with a royal, let alone a fae one. She was here to fight, earn her coin, and get the hell away from here.
Not get tangled in feelings she couldn’t name.
Ren turned to Kaelin, who hadn’t spoken. Ren’s mouth felt dry suddenly, as if she had swallowed a mouthful of sand. “Let’s just agree to be civil. Neutral. ”
Kaelin said nothing, her crown of golden hair catching the flickering lamplight as she turned her face away from Ren. She remained seated, back straight despite the chaos still humming in the air.
“You don’t need to test me anymore. I want nothing from you but enough coin to vanish into some quiet corner of the world. We both know this was a mistake and nothing more,” Ren said.
Kaelin’s fingers flexed, as though resisting the urge to reach for Ren.
“A mistake?” she echoed softly. Her eyes softened with a heat that made Ren’s breath falter.
“I’ve been aching for that kiss. And when it finally happened…
” A faint, helpless smile ghosted her lips.
“It ruined me, Ren. Because it was better than every fantasy I’ve had of you. And I want more. So much more.”
Ren’s breath shuddered, her voice cracking despite her best efforts. “Kaelin, this will never work. You have an entire court of suitors who’d kill for a fraction of your attention. You don’t need someone like me.”
Kaelin captured Ren’s gaze with quiet intensity. “I don’t want anyone else. I only want you, Ren.”
Ren turned her back, shoulders curling inward as if bracing for a blow.
“Kaelin, stop. Just… stop.” The words shook despite her best attempt to sound indifferent.
“I don’t want this life. I don’t want to be tied to a crown, or a court, or you .
” Her breath hitched, barely noticeable, but enough to betray her.
“There’s nothing here worth chasing. It’s better if you let me go.
” Her hands trembled at her sides, hidden from Kaelin’s view. “This is for the best,” she whispered.
Silence fell between them, thick enough Ren could hear the faint hitch of Kaelin’s breath. When Kaelin finally spoke, it was barely above a whisper. “You don’t want me?”
Ren kept her back turned. “I’m certain.”
Another long, brittle beat of silence. Then Kaelin’s voice returned emotionless. “Very well, then.”
A beat passed.
Two.
Then Kaelin said, “As you wish.”
But Ren’s eyes betrayed her. They flicked back to Kaelin’s lips, still flushed from their kiss, slightly swollen, the ghost of Ren’s mouth lingering there. Ren cleared her throat sharply and stepped back, nearly stumbling in her haste. “Right. Neutral,” she muttered .
Without waiting for a response, Ren turned on her heels and forced herself to walk away.
Because if she lingered even a moment longer, she feared that she’d break her own damn rules.
Sitting across from Kaelin, Esme sipped her tea with the serenity of a priestess.
Talen glared at the wooden board as if it had personally offended him. “This game is unfair,” he muttered.
“Or perhaps,” Kaelin said mildly, “strategy isn’t your strength, dear brother.”
They sat in one of the palace parlors reserved for the royal family alone, lit with a warm hearth of fire. On the low table next to the hearth waited an unopened bottle of Emberwreath Mulled Red, the signature winter wine of the Pyraelian foothills, its deep garnet color glinting through the glass.
Esme took another sip of her tea, her brows knitting as she swallowed. “Saints,” she rasped hoarsely, touching her throat gingerly, “this feels worse every time I drink it.”
Kaelin didn’t look up from the board. “It’s honey and chamomile, Esme. It’s known to ease sore throats.”
Esme glared into the cup. “Well, it’s doing a spectacular job at it.”
Kaelin finally glanced up. “Your throat hurts because you refused to wear a cloak outside yesterday.” She returned her attention as Talen moved one of his pieces. “Drink your tea.”
Esme lifted her chin with wounded dignity. “I refused because Sylven was in the gardens yesterday, and I wanted him to see a bit more of my skin.” she waved her hand flippantly. “Tastefully, of course. Just enough to intrigue, not enough to be uncouth.”
Talen reset one of his pieces. “Esme, there were snow flurries yesterday.”
“And? ”
Kaelin sighed through her nose, pinching the bridge of it. “You are going to drink that tea until your voice returns to something other than a parched crow.”
“At this point, I think the tea is what’s murdering me.”