Chapter 34 #3
It broke something in her to know that she’d had a deeper connection with him than she had thought, and it also frustrated her that he didn’t want to see into her mind and seek out the truth—that she loved him. That she hadn’t wanted to hurt him. That what they had was real.
Tears of frustration threatened to spill and she bunched her hands over the front of his tunic. “No, you can’t—you can’t do that. That’s not fair! You’re not even giving me a chance to explain myself. Nikator, I—”
“What does it matter anymore?” He stared down at her coldly.
“It matters to me!” Her hands trembled on him and she wanted to scream, to shout, to cry loudly, to make him understand, but she stopped herself from doing anything reckless. “I want you to know that we had something special!”
He scoffed. “How special is it if you were willing to throw it away so easily?”
“You don’t get to act like that when you’re planning on killing me!”
His lips curled into a snarl. “I’m not going to kill you.”
“You practically are! You’re going to hand me over to the emperor. You’re not stupid; you know what he’ll do to me!”
“And what will he do to you that’s different than what you did last week?”
Biyu flinched back, stumbling away from him—as if the distance could free her from the accusations.
It wasn’t fair for him to fling those kinds of charges at her—even if they were true; but they hurt more because he seemed so detached.
Like he truly didn’t care what would happen to her once he tossed her to Drakkon Muyang.
If he had any love toward her, wouldn’t he have wanted the best for her?
At the very least, he wouldn’t have wanted her dead.
Maybe she was hypocritical to think that way. To think that he should care about what happened to her after she’d betrayed him. After she’d broken his heart and ruined their relationship.
“How many ways am I supposed to say I’m sorry?
” Her voice came out shrill and she choked on the last few words.
Her quaking hands bent into fists and she wanted to hit something.
Normally, heated conversations like this made her brain freeze and fog up, but something darker fueled her as she shot back, “I understand that I did something wrong, Nikator, but you’re going to kill me by sending me to him!
You don’t think that’s messed up? Everything I did was for my own survival!
I was wrong, I admit, but I never once wanted to hurt you and I would never think to kill you! ”
“That’s funny considering how your plan put my life at risk!
” he growled. Each word struck her like a whip.
“What if any of those assassins had been more skilled than me? What if more of them had teamed up against me? Did you even think about that?” He stepped dangerously close and captured her chin with one calloused hand.
He tilted her face up and murmured quietly, with a hint of sadness, “Would you have even cared?”
Fresh tears burned the backs of her eyes.
She couldn’t imagine a life where he didn’t exist; she couldn’t even fathom the idea of it.
Even if they were no longer together romantically, she didn’t want any harm to befall him, and that was the truth.
She certainly didn’t want to cause his death. “Of course I would have cared.”
“Only because our lives are linked.”
“No, not because of that—”
“Then—”
“Stop cutting me off every time I try to explain myself. Nikator, I love you,” she whispered through her blurring vision.
“I never want to hurt you. I want to be with you and I did something stupid, I understand that, but I would never put you in real danger. I’m sorry for my part in the coup. I—I want to fix this. Please.”
He stared at her without an ounce of emotion and she would have thought that her words hadn’t affected him if she hadn’t noticed the slight twitch of his muscles, the stiffening of his spine, and the way he closed his eyes.
He exhaled. Calming himself, she imagined.
When he snapped his eyes open, there was a storm brewing in them.
“Nikator?” She reached forward and when he didn’t immediately pull away, her fingers glided over his rough stubble and she searched his eyes for something other than winter’s touch.
She could forgive him for many things—for even thinking of taking her back to Drakkon Muyang, for his callousness, for his harsh words—if only he would look at her with love once more.
“Please, Nikator. Believe me when I say I love you. Today, yesterday, the day before, and the weeks before that—I love you.”
“Even your lies are so sweet,” he murmured.
Her face fell.
He wouldn’t ever believe her, would he? No matter what she did for him, he would think she was lying the entire time. It felt as though he had stabbed her through the heart and twisted the blade; her chest ached, and her knees quivered against one another. “Nikator—”
He brushed a thumb over her lower lip and her breath hitched at the sudden contact. His gaze didn’t soften in the least, even as his fingers trailed over to her wet cheeks, swiping at the fallen tears. He framed her face with both hands, staring down at her with burning eyes.
Biyu remained still—shock coursing through her at the abruptness of the moment. She had thought that he would never want to touch her again, even if he had stared at her like a starving man earlier that day.
He ignited desire within her and she inhaled sharply as his fingers dragged over her skin.
She wanted more of him, even if he didn’t want her anymore. She felt pathetic to even think like that, but she wanted every part of him. She wanted to be closer to him, to feel his hands run over her body, to feel every inch of him.
He leaned closer, his breath warming her as he captured her mouth in a hungry kiss.
The world disappeared around her until it was just the two of them.
Biyu hooked her arms around his neck, kissing him back just as fervently.
His hands roamed her back, squeezing, exploring, fitting against her curves perfectly.
Unlike his usual tender and slow kisses, this one was demanding, rough, and possessive.
She could hardly breathe, her head growing light as their kisses turned to fire.
He yanked her flush against his body, and she could feel every muscle rippling on his frame.
She tilted her head back for air and he dragged his mouth over the hollow of her throat.
An excited shiver ran through her and she gripped onto him tightly as his teeth grazed against her flesh.
Nikator’s grip on her hips tightened and his mouth locked with hers again. They stumbled back until she slammed into a tree, their kiss growing messy. Her hair unraveled from its updo, tumbling down her shoulders. He broke away suddenly and fisted his hand over her skirt.
For a moment, they both stared, their breathing heavy. Her chest rose and fell, and his attention flicked down to her heaving breasts, then up to her flushed face. He rubbed his thumb over her swollen lower lip, parting her mouth.
“Do not mistake this for forgiveness,” he murmured. “I can never trust you again, princess. This changes nothing.”
Just as abruptly as he had touched her, he pulled away.
He spun on his heels and walked to the horse, leading it away from the stream and checking on the supplies.
Biyu was left gasping against the tree, mortification, shock, and …
pain stabbing through her. He had kissed her like he hated her and she had enjoyed it.
She was crushed. She yearned to be in his arms again, and yet she knew he hated her.