Chapter 25
Raeve looks up.
Seeming to realize my command was not aimed at her, she reaches between her legs and grips the bottle.
Takes another swig.
“No disrespect, but these are bleeding pretty bad,” Roan says, using a cloth to clean off some of the blood I feel dribbling down my back. “If I don’t etch them shut, or at the very least stitch them, you might—”
“Sishath, Ignos. Heith asha veh shiel zuisten juth-ah.”
Raeve stiffens, then averts her gaze as a fiery hand emerges from the hearth like a budding bloom—Ignos hissing with ravenous glee.
Ready to feast.
“Zist av shún …”
Roan leaps to the side in time to avoid the hand now stretching toward me, and five burning fingers press on my wounds.
One for each.
I grit my teeth and endure the cauterizing burn, the smell of frying flesh … both things that used to bring me to my knees, haunted by memories of Pah lashing me to shreds while ordering me to take control.
Once I’m well and truly melted shut, I coax Ignos to retreat back to the hearth and ribbon through the chimney, sapping all the warmth from the room as both brothers evacuate, leaving everything behind but the alcohol.
The cooler light honors Raeve. Makes her eyes stand out like gemstones, her fiercely regal features accentuated by the harsh shadows. The sort of beauty that turns heads and leaves a wake of broken hearts, worn like she doesn’t even realize it.
“You’re stunning,” I say.
A faint line forms between her brows. Other than that, she doesn’t move.
“I didn’t tell you enough. Something I regretted every dae for over a hundred phases.”
No response.
The front door snicks shut, and despite Raeve’s frigid silence, something inside me loosens, relaxing into our shared atmosphere. A feeling that makes me want to lean against the pallet with her pressed against my chest, close my eyes, and forget everything that doesn’t exist within this room.
Except she looks more partial to a murder spree than she does to letting me wrap her in my arms.
Sighing, I reach for the clay bowl and move it to the empty stool beside me, plunging a cloth through the water. I begin wiping my chest and arms, leaning forward to redunk the cloth and squeeze out the filth.
It’s only when Raeve drops to her knees between my spread legs, snatching my breath and hand in the same swift motion, that I realize I’m trembling.
I clear my throat as she pries my fingers from the cloth and takes it from me. Still when she swipes it across my collarbone, arching down my sternum—her eyes cuts of ice.
Movements … tender.
My skin prickles in the wake of each slow stroke.
“You’ve never bathed me before …” Nor have I seen her move so soft and slow; such a contrast to her combustive energy.
Something flickers in her eyes.
She submerges the cloth again before lifting it to my right pectoral. “Do you still want us, Kaan?”
Though her words are just as unyielding as the look on her face, my answer’s warm. Immediate.
“Always.”
Her lashes lift, hand stilling as our gazes clash, my heart hitching with such violence it feels like a blade just pierced it through. “You and me. Not Elluin. Me.”
“Always,” I repeat with every bit of my chest.
She breaks my stare and continues sweeping the cloth across my chest. “Then I need to make something perfectly clear.” She dips again, eyes focused on her task. “Should you die, I will not fall quietly into grief.”
There’s a squeezing sensation in my chest, directly below the cloth now swiping over my left pectoral. “Moonbeam—”
“I will not simply accept your absence as collateral for the privilege of having had you in the first place, nor will I carry myself with the same merciful poise you possess,” she bites out with regal fortitude, dipping the cloth.
Strangles the water free with such might her knuckles pale.
“I’ll wreck the world to avenge your death, Kaan Vaegor. ”
A selfish part of me almost begs her to repeat herself, over and over until the words feel real.
The room loses all its heat, making the hairs on my arms lift despite the cloth swiping them down.
“My name will become a curse folk won’t dare murmur lest it call me upon them like some rabid beast hunting my revenge,” she growls with a savage lilt that makes my hackles rise. “I will feast on the flesh of anyone who ever dared mutter a bad word against you—”
I snag her wrist with one hand, her chin with my other, tilting her head so I can see her eyes.
Frown at the sight of her pupils—partially blown and speckled with light.
But as I look, they tighten, the pricks of luster swallowed so fast I wonder if I saw them at all.
“I told you, Moonbeam. Revenge is the loneliest deity of them all.” My voice softens, dropping.
“I thought you would’ve realized that by now. ”
“I’m a slow learner,” she bites back, and I raise a brow. “Besides, this is a cautionary tale intended to prevent you from doing anything stupid. Like throwing yourself before a spray of Creator-silencing pins intended to maim me.”
Ah.
I look at my wounded hands, certain that if she knew how many lives I’ve taken with them—how many necks I’ve snapped and severed—she’d be less concerned for my welfare. In truth, there are only two wounds I wouldn’t survive:
Losing my pissed-off dragon currently tossing his weight through the sky.
Or losing her.
Her breath hitches as I take her hand in mine, pull it close, and plant a kiss on the inside of her wrist. “With my greatest respect,” I murmur with the softness of a lullaby, looking at her, “you’d have better luck getting the world to spin than convincing me to put my life before yours.”
Her lips pull back from her teeth, no doubt preparing to blow some flaming words at me. But I don’t want her vitriol. Not now.
I gently pry her fingers from the cloth. Though her brow buckles, she loosens her hold. “What are—”
“You say you’re a slow learner, but I happen to know otherwise.” I dip the cloth, squeeze out the excess, then brush away the blood that’s caked around the fine slit on her cheek—her entire body stiffening.
She swallows, watching me with fierce precision, her next words rasped. “Enlighten me.”
“When you first came to Dhomm, you were poorly versed with Bulder’s language, despite hearing him loud and clear.
” I dip the cloth again, squeeze it, then begin swiping the soot and splattered blood from her forehead and nose.
“With little reason to prioritize him, you’d spent your time perfecting other songs that were deemed more helpful, given your previous place of residence.
” I wipe the skin between her pinched brows, smoothing it, then drag the cloth back over her cheek. “So I gave you lessons.”
Something flickers in her eyes, directed past me to the window beyond. “Lessons …”
“Yes. You were suffering a … condition”—burdened by the Aether Stone—“so we worked on small-scale commands that wouldn’t tire you.”
I drag the cloth down the delicate line of her neck, cleaning more streaks and splats of blood. And though she’s still looking blankly behind me, she does tilt her head, offering easier access to the grime.
A monumental victory I refuse to draw attention to lest she skitter away.
“Despite your setbacks, what took me phases to learn took you only a matter of daes. Bulder was clay in your hands.”
Just like me.
I dip the cloth again, then begin cleaning her other cheek. “You’re much smarter than you give yourself credit for. Certainly smart enough to know this argument is going nowhere.”
To ease the blow, I lean forward and dare the faintest brush of my lips across her temple. When I pull back, just enough to peek at her eyes, I see her lids fluttering shut.
A slight softening of her hard outer shell.
Failing to stifle the small smile that tugs at my lips, I push her hair back off her shoulder so I can clean around the side of her neck—
“You’re wrong.”
Here we go. “How so, Moonbeam?”
“You call me a fast learner, but if that were the case, I wouldn’t be doing this.” She reaches up, unlatches her cloak, and pushes it from her shoulders, revealing a thin black shirt buttoned to her collarbone.
My heart stops.
The light material molds to her curves, her breasts so blatantly bare of binds or support beneath.
I’d drop to my knees if I weren’t already seated.
She takes my wrist, removes the cloth from my grip, and plants my hand on her waist. A gentle coax I’m not immune to, even in my weakened state. Not even were I rattling through my final breaths.
“And why do you say that?” I rasp, meeting her stare—starling slits of vibrant blue shadowed by heavy lashes.
“Because your touch … unravels me. Makes it hard to think straight. Something I’m well aware of.” She shifts my hand up until it’s all but cupping her right breast, her nipples pebbling into such hard peaks they look like they’re trying to cut through the fabric. “And yet …”
And yet …
I drop my gaze to where my hand is clasped around her, up again.
See the challenge in her eyes.
“I thought you said your white flags were all used up?”
Her upper lip twitches to pull back from her teeth. “Fuck the white flags.”
“Then tell me to stop,” I growl beneath my breath, lifting my hand until my thumb grazes the hardened peak of her nipple—the faintest moan slipping her lips, heating my blood. Like she just poured lava through my veins.
Her spine arches, her body’s silent request for me to venture. Too quiet.
Not enough.
I sweep her hair back off her face as I roll her nipple between my thumb and finger, my next words a whisper against her brow. “If you think I’m that bad for you, tell me to stop.”
She trembles, pushing into me, her breaths beginning to heave. Still too silent.
Still not enough.
I shift, brushing my lips across her left cheekbone.
“Tell me to stop, Moonbeam.” I nudge her head to the side, painting my next declaration along the line of her jaw.
“You can have your silence back and I’ll return to loving you from a distance, devoting every heartbeat to wishing you’d let me under your skin—”
She grabs my face, threads her fingers through my beard.
And kisses me with the force of an avalanche.