Epilogue
Nikolas Contas waited for the lady’s maid to meet his stare. Waited for the flush to rise in her cheeks. Then let his smile stretch, slow and sure, from left to right. He never could help himself around a beautiful woman.
An hour later—Dimitrios crowned and surrounded by family—Nikolas was trying and failing to hush the lady’s giggles down a deserted palace wing. They stumbled between pillars and statues, knocked over tables, mouths fused, laughter smudged into moans.
Nikolas loved this part of the chase, when pretense fell away and need took over.
Near his chambers, he pinned her to the wall, breath hot against her neck. She arched into him with a sound that promised more—
Pebbles scattered across the floor. One struck his boot with a faint tick, snapping him out of the hollow of her neck.
She rubbed her elbow, cursing the marble wall she’d struck.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
She froze, staring at the jagged crack splitting the wall—and the strange gold light leaking out.
Nikolas bent for a closer look, then picked away at the crumbling marble to reveal more of the palace’s insides.
Head beside his, the woman’s breath hitched. “Is it…pulsing?”
Nikolas staggered back, dragging her with him. His smile was drunk, his mind in no shape to worry about…whatever this was. “My room’s this way, love. I’ll let you show me where you’re pulsing and run my tongue over it until it stops.”
She squealed and fisted his tunic. “Yes, please, show me what you can do with that wicked tongue.”
The gold glow already forgotten, Nikolas tugged her onward, mind on the bed and nothing else.
But the glow did not fade. It crept farther, seeping through the palace stone like rot. And in the silence between their laughter, something deep within the walls stirred awake.
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