Chapter 14
Chapter
Fourteen
This was a terrible idea. Luka was mortified when Izzy apologized, and when she said she made him uncomfortable, he’d wanted to howl.
He wasn’t uncomfortable. Well, he was, but not in the way she thought.
She’d blamed herself, thought less of herself, and then she’d invited him to bring another woman to her house and said it was fine.
It wasn’t fine. Nothing was fine. And all he’d been able to think about was touching her. He’d held himself back, stayed far away, because she was so fucking close and she smelled so fucking good and he wanted to touch her more than he wanted to breathe. And now he was.
This is a brilliant idea, his beast purred.
Izzy froze beneath him, and Luka pulled back, half expecting her to push him away. But she didn’t. She looked up at him with wide eyes, shimmering sapphire pulsing at her throat. “Luka?”
It was the uncertainty in her voice that did it.
He loomed over her, one hand resting on each of the chair’s arms, and leaned in again.
He moved more slowly, giving her time. Letting her say the words.
To point out that this was a terrible idea.
That she’d literally just asked to be friends.
That he’d hurt her too many times. But she didn’t.
Her gaze dropped to his mouth, and then she licked her lips, just for a second, a tiny touch of her tongue, and he was lost.
He didn’t deserve her. He was responsible for Rayan’s death. He had no idea how to be what she needed. He was terrified of finally having her and then losing her again. But nothing—not even the gods themselves coming down from the mountain—could stop him from tasting her.
He sipped at her mouth, nibbling and licking, and she flowed open, tilting her head to fit them perfectly together. Her hands rose, one to rest on his chest, the other to curl around his nape, settling against his skin, and pull him closer.
Luka’s beast purred louder—a long, low rumble of delight as he slid his hands beneath her and lifted her, turning them both so he could sit with her cradled on his lap.
He settled his hand on her cheek, stroking her soft skin with his thumb and then closed his mouth over hers once more. She murmured softly, nestling closer as he moved his other hand to her back, stroking up her side.
She melted into him, just as she’d done in the sky. Only now he could touch every part of her. Now he could concentrate entirely on her.
The air between them heated as their kiss grew deeper, heavier.
Gods, he wanted to turn her to straddle him.
He wanted to strip those tight breeches off her shapely legs and run his hands over every part of her.
He wanted to taste her skin. He wanted her heat sliding over his aching cock.
Gods, he hurt. He needed her so badly. She slid a hand under his shirt, trailing over his chest to settle right over his heart, and that hurt too.
Do it. Take her to bed. Make her ours.
Fuck. He’d seen how she’d looked at his bed, and he’d had a good idea what she’d been thinking. Nothing good. What in the Abyss was he doing? What if he lost her completely this time?
Izzy must have sensed the change in him, because she pulled back.
Her pupils were blown wide, her cheeks flushed.
Soft tendrils of loose hair had escaped her rough braid and curled around her face.
For the first time in his life, Luka wished he were an artist. He wished he could capture this image and hold it with him forever.
It is already captured. I will hold it, his beast murmured.
“What happened?” Izzy asked, a line settling between her brows. He wanted to wipe it away.
“I kissed you.”
Her frown deepened. “I noticed.” She looked like she was trying hard not to roll her eyes. “And then what happened?”
He wanted to lie. To say that he’d realized how late it was and that they had to get some sleep.
Or that the chair was uncomfortable. Or he’d heard a noise.
Or literally anything other than the truth.
That he was fucking terrified. And when he was afraid or hurt, he only knew one solution: close it down, bite his tongue, and go to work.
His mother left when he was five. She’d wanted something different—or more—than his father could give.
Or perhaps it was Luka himself who couldn’t give her what she needed.
Either way, he was left with his father and grandfather, and what they understood was duty.
Responsibility. Hard work. They kept their thoughts close, their feelings closer, and they never showed emotion.
They did not expect, or tolerate, failure.
In their eyes, vulnerability was a sin. And yet…
shutting down, walking away, staying silent…
none of that had worked for him. Perhaps if he’d been honest with Rayan, things would have been different.
His beast snorted. Perhaps if you’d been honest with Izzy, things would have been different.
True. And Izzy was already withdrawing. The flush was fading from her cheeks, leaving dark rings under her eyes. She looked away. “It’s late. We’re both tired.” She moved, about to stand and—
“Please don’t go,” he blurted, immediately regretting the stupid words, the neediness. Thank the gods he hadn’t told her how afraid he was.
But Izzy stopped moving. Her head tilted to the side as she listened, her eyes on his once more.
Fuck, this was hard. “I… lost Rayan.” Why did his voice sound so rough? He cleared his throat. “And I already lost—”His beast thrashed its tail, and he tried again, taking responsibility this time. “I pushed you away. I don’t want to lose you again.”
Izzy softened, turning back to face him as her hand settled on his cheek. She looked at him for a long moment and then rested her forehead on his. “I won’t hurt you,” she whispered.
She almost certainly was going to hurt him, but not intentionally.
He wasn’t ready to explain it to her. How could he tell her that, deep in his heart, he was still all alone?
That he wanted a home but had no idea how to make one?
He couldn’t tell her, but he could explain part of it.
He could admit his guilt for all the things he’d said…
and hadn’t said. “I don’t want to hurt you. ”
“So don’t.”
He chuckled. If only it were that simple. And he still had to undo some of the old wounds he’d caused. “I don’t bring women to my room,” he confessed quietly.
A flicker of scales settled on her throat, but she didn’t look away.
“In fact, I, ah… mostly just work. And when I’m not working, I…
.” He tried to think of what he did when he wasn’t working.
When Rayan was alive, he’d spent time with the others.
They’d gone to taverns together, they’d flown over the mountain in an unruly mass, they’d played cards, and swum in the sea.
When last had he done anything like that?
He didn’t even train with the others now; he ran drills alone or sparred with Ryland.
Never ending dullness. Just like I said.
“I just work and sleep,” he admitted, “and I don’t sleep enough.”
Izzy gave him a small smile. “I’m the same.”
Gods. He didn’t want that for her. She deserved so much more. He couldn’t give her everything she deserved, and he couldn’t give her anything forever, but he could give her a few moments of peace. “Rest now,” he said as he wrapped his arms around her, holding her a little closer.
“We should both rest,” Izzy murmured as she tucked herself against his chest, her head under his chin, her body slowly relaxing into his. “It’ll look better in the morning.”
Offer her more! Take this chance!
He could, but should he? They’d been through a lot over the last few hours, and their past was long and complicated. She lived in the city now—she’d made a life there—and his life was here inside the castle. There was no real chance for them.
Don’t be ridiculous, of course there’s a chance. You’re using the castle walls as an excuse to keep yourself safe. His beast rumbled, aggravated, and Izzy stirred softly.
Gods of the mountain, help him. Maybe this was his chance to finally touch her, to kiss her and hold her and know her. Tomorrow, she would be gone again. “Izzy?”
She didn’t answer. Her breathing stayed even, her body soft and warm in his arms. Her breaths settled into a gentle snore, and he pressed a kiss to the top of her head. She was already asleep. She must have been utterly exhausted.
She feels safe.
Luka almost wished she didn’t. Her trust didn’t make him any less terrified. If anything, it made it worse.
He sat in the firelight, holding the woman he’d dreamed of for so long, and closed his eyes, but he couldn’t settle into sleep.
Dawn was close now, and he wanted to remember this moment, but his brain kept churning through memories of the day, sorting facts and reviewing scenes.
The feast. Shane flirting. Narya clapping as the dancers leaped and twirled to the heavy drumbeat.
Sitting in the old tavern alone. Dashiell rushing in.
The dead woman’s cold skin. The archthane’s anger. Izzy’s forgiveness. Izzy’s hurt.
And that brought back the older wounds. Rayan’s hurt.
Rayan’s death. “He was working on something,” Izzy had said.
“It’s not my fault Narya wanted to go off with that physik,” the maid had muttered.
“Something feels off,” Ryland grunted. “The city isn’t safe,” Dashiell said, again and again in Luka’s head.
What the fuck was happening in his city? In his home? How could he protect the people he loved? How could he protect Izzy?
Dawn would come far too soon, and then he had to set Izzy’s warmth aside and get back to work. The world was full of danger, and he had no idea where the threat would come from next.