Chapter 24 #2
Pushing the dark imagery from her mind with a head shake, she continued, “Regardless, it’s my sister’s wedding.
I don’t want to have to explain why we killed His Majesty’s vassal, and that’ll open up a host of other problems. Like people asking why you care so much.
And why you would go so far, and … and maybe they’ll find out about the marriage spell … ”
Her voice trailed to a whisper, and then to something even softer than that. A question irked her and she couldn’t help but peer up at him. Why did he care? Why did he want Jian dead for something as small as touching her? For insulting her?
He claimed it was because he didn’t want another man touching what was his, but … but she wasn’t his. He didn’t even want this forced marriage. He didn’t even want to kiss her again after their first, and last, mistake doing that.
So why?
Biyu began to slip her hands away, but he pressed his own over one of her palms against his cheek. Her breath stole away from that small action, and her other arm fell limply to her side. It was like the strength was leaving her. More confusion addled her brain.
There was too much on her mind to care about these trivial feelings—she had a mission to accomplish. She had to break the wards. Assist her brother in slaying the wicked emperor. But more than anything, the questions plagued her.
Why did her heart race whenever he was near?
Why did she want to lean into his touch?
Why did she crave him, when he was the last person she needed?
He was her enemy. He was the man who had ruined her life. He would be the first to toss her in the dungeons, the first to bury his knife into her back, the first to kiss her like she mattered.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” Nikator murmured.
He was still holding her hand against his face.
Her body warmed at the softness of his voice; usually, he sounded so rough and ill mannered.
Sarcastic, moody, annoyed. And yet right now his attention was solely on her, his words like a caress, and his touch gentle.
“Like what?” she managed.
“Like you hate me.”
A breathy laugh escaped her and she broke their contact by pulling away.
He let her and watched as she cradled her hand to her chest. She couldn’t meet his gaze as she said, “I don’t …
I don’t hate you.” And the most shocking part?
She realized it was true. She didn’t hate him.
How could she, after they had spent so much time together?
After she had kissed that pretty mouth of his?
After he had shown up for her time and time again when she needed him?
More confusion twisted in her chest and her words barely came out.
“And you know that you’re the one who hates me. ”
It was his turn to grab her face now. His large hands spanned across her cheeks, craning her neck so she was staring directly up at him. He bent down so his face was even closer, inches apart. “I have never hated you, Princess Biyu. I don’t think I could ever hate you.”
Every part of her blazed to life. Heat coiled in her belly, her face flushing where he touched her.
Her eyebrows knitted together. “Never? That’s … not true.”
“I wish it wasn’t.”
“I’ve seen the way you’ve looked at me for years. You’ve always hated me.” The words tumbled out before she could stop herself. She grasped the front of his tunic, her voice shaky. “You’ve always looked at me like I was something … something horrible.”
“Oh, if only you knew my true thoughts.” He said it so softly that she didn’t quite catch it completely.
Her mind pieced together the words, and yet they didn’t click.
Even when he pressed himself closer, his body heat nearly scalding her, and his warm breath tickling her neck.
“You have always been the most beautiful woman in every room. In every hall. In every memory of mine. I have yet to find anyone else who plagues me as you have plagued me all these years, Biyu. You are the colors of this world. I am a mad man tangled in these webs you’ve spun around me and I have no way out, and I wish for nothing more than for you to look my way. All these years. All these years.”
Biyu stared at him in disbelief.
Her heart fluttered.
Tears pricked the corners of her eyes and her throat constricted. “You shouldn’t say these things to me.”
“Why?” Softly, gently. He traced a finger along her jaw and caught one of her tears. “Do you hate me so much that you can’t bear my inner thoughts?”
No. It was actually the opposite. She would burst at the seams with these confusing, conflicting emotions that she wouldn’t know what to think or feel anymore.
Biyu inhaled slowly, then exhaled, her breath wrenching out from her shakily.
She wasn’t beautiful. She wasn’t special.
She wasn’t anything other than plain old Princess Biyu.
But he spoke about her like she was something precious.
Like she was more than a prisoner. More than just her royal title.
Like he saw her for what, and who, she truly was.
Something splintered in her. The barrier around her heart cracked and fissured until she could feel his warmth worming its way inside.
And then suddenly, she couldn’t bear it any longer.
Biyu tightened her hold on his shirt and stood on her toes, capturing his mouth with ease.
At first, surprise made his body stiffen, but it only lasted a few seconds.
A soft groan pulled from him and he leaned down to kiss her harder.
Her hands spanned over his hard muscles, searching, admiring, and exploring every inch of his chest, his arms, his back.
He kissed her again, turning her head to deepen the kiss, for his tongue to creep into her mouth and dance with hers.
A dizziness took over. He tasted like ocean and rain, like summer mornings and sunshine, like everything abstract and beautiful, and she wanted more.
His hands traveled from her face to her hair. A tremor ran down her spine when his fingers dragged through her scalp, loosening the hair pins, and then trailed down the nape of her neck to her lower back. A breathless moan escaped her.
“Do you like when I touch you?” he murmured, pulling away from his kiss to stare down at her. His usually shuttered expression was heated, possessive, and with a hint of feral desire that sent a jolt down her core.
She blushed. “N-no.”
“Liar.” He kissed her again and she stepped even closer to him.
She clutched his back tightly, her breasts pushing against his muscular frame, and her thighs brushing against his long legs.
His kisses trailed down to her jaw, then the column of her throat.
Her eyelids fluttered shut as he dragged his lips over the sensitive flesh.
“Tell me you want this,” he said quietly.
Her eyes flicked over to his. He was now level with her, a grim expression overtaking his handsome face.
“I want this; I want—I want you.”
The admission felt like a betrayal of her royal name, but it felt right in that moment.
Nikator leaned in to press another kiss on her, but a woman’s grating laughter jolted Biyu back to the present.
Everything had all but disappeared during their moment of passion—she had forgotten they were still in the grand hall, barely hidden by the pillars and banners and curtains.
She poked her head around Nikator’s arm to find a group of noblewomen a few feet away from them, cooling their faces with fancy silk hand fans and giggling over the newest piece of gossip.
A frown twisted her lips and she glanced at Nikator, who glared at the unaware women. She tugged at his hand. “How about we leave to find somewhere private?”
A dark eyebrow rose. “Oh? Like where?”
“Follow me.”