Chapter Twenty-Five #2
“Small details,” he sighed, rubbing the side of his neck as he unclasped the chains of his mantle. “All of it must be negotiated.”
Greaves passed me, sweeping through each space before he began to disarm himself.
“Mother spoke to me about the wedding.” I followed Kallias into his dressing room, where Greaves helped him remove the yoke from his shoulders. “It’ll be in true Draconis fashion.”
“And are you willing to also endure a Radaanian wedding?” His voice was weary, as if the idea already exhausted him.
“For you? Anything.”
His guard grunted, then cleared his throat, placing the mantle on its stand and backed away, like love was a catching thing.
“And you, Greaves?” I asked, folding my arms and eyeing him. “You’ll put up with me?”
He leveled a glare at me, jaw tight. “I’ve survived one wife. I can stomach another.”
Kallias flinched, shooting him a warning look.
“I am not Eldeiade,” I said, low and sharp. The two might be friends, but he could show some respect.
“Hence why he’s bedding you.” Greaves untucked his tunic and pointed at his king. “I’ll return in an hour.”
“Noted.”
I looked between them. Kallias made no comment against the jab.
“An hour alone?” I asked after the guard disappeared through the door.
“Which is why he reminded me.” Kallias sighed as he pulled off his tunic. “He doesn’t eat during the day unless we’re without company. This is his moment to escape us both—and fill his belly.”
He unbuckled his belt, letting it hang free. I stepped forward, ran my hands along his chest, fingers ghosting over the bandage.
“Seems to be healing.” My thumb brushed the linen. No blood. I tugged the knot loose and unraveled the wrap, revealing a long scab stretching across his skin.
“It’s been well tended,” he murmured. His gaze dropped to my mouth, and his arms slid around my waist as he pulled me into him.
My body met his, the linen dangling from my fingers. His heat soaked through the fabric of my dress, radiating across my skin. Greaves, politics, everything outside this moment—forgotten. Only his eyes remained. Heavy. Hungry.
“An hour is a long time,” I whispered, sliding my thumb beneath the edge of his waistband.
“Not nearly long enough.” His groan curled in my ears. He dipped low and brushed his mouth over mine. The scruff on his jaw scraped my skin, leaving trails of heat. I lifted onto my toes, pressed harder into him.
He caught my bottom lip, teeth grazing. Then he pulled away, lips brushing my ear. “The things I want to do to you.”
Fire roared through my blood. I dropped the bandage and slipped my hand to the nape of his neck, trying to bring him closer. But his mouth wandered to my throat, trailing slow, deliberate kisses across my skin.
My knees faltered. I moaned and gripped his shoulder, clinging to him as the world narrowed to breath, touch, heat.
“I want you,” I hissed, hips pressing flush to his.
His smile grazed the crook of my neck. “I know.”
Fingers tapped along my spine, teasing the lacings of my dress but never loosening them. The high collar choked me. Warmth bloomed under my skin. I couldn’t breathe when he let go like this—when desire silenced his discipline.
With a growl, I slid my leg up his, hooking it high around his thigh. I rocked into him, dragging a groan from his chest. His hand gripped my hip and yanked me tighter. The grind of his body against mine set fire to every nerve.
A messy curse tumbled from his lips. He bent, braced, and lifted me with both hands locked beneath me. I let out a whimper as his mouth claimed mine. He kissed me hard—ruthless—and carried me through his chambers. The pressure against my core teased and tormented, offering no relief.
We tumbled. The bed caught our fall. His hand tangled in my hair as we sank into each other, mouths clashing, teeth catching. Tongues met in a hungry war. He dropped his weight between my legs, settling into the cradle of my hips.
I broke the kiss with a gasp, spine arching. Sensation surged. I tried to flee it—tried to pull him closer. My legs locked behind his back.
“Nienna.” His voice cracked, hot breath against my throat. Fingers pinched into my waist. “I need to stop. Elohios, I need to stop.”
His words faltered beneath his body’s desire. He rolled his hips, forehead pressing to my shoulder with a broken hiss.
“Tell me about the prince.”
His demand didn’t pierce my haze of pleasure as I threaded my fingers through his hair, coaxing him back to my neck.
“Gods have mercy—what did he do?”
I froze. My breath caught. Was that what haunted him? The idea of Adoni touching me? Soiling me?
With a groan, he pulled away, seizing on my hesitation. He dropped to the mattress beside me, one hand flung toward his lap. Fingers curled in the air, then clenched the edge of his belt instead.
“He attacked me,” I panted, heat still burning along my ears and neck. Panic crept in, trailing shame. “He didn’t get–”
“I asked for my sake.” He shut his eyes. One knee bent, boot thudding against the mattress. His palm settled on his thigh. “A few more seconds and I wouldn’t have kept my promise.”
I edged away, though every part of me ached to keep him there, to chase the heat we left behind. “Then, as a king, you should know.” I cleared my throat, grasping for distance in formality. “I’ve never lain with a man.”
His fingers flexed where they rested. “A princess as beautiful as you… surely there were secret kisses.”
“A princess such as I?” I laughed. “The Dragon’s Heart? Risk offending me, and a dragon might eat you. Many boys wished to try their luck. But my parents watched me and my brother too closely. Even now, any girl Ronan pursues, Father intervenes. No, Kallias. I’ve never kissed another.”
“I wish I could say the same.” He scoffed. Shame painted his voice. A hand dragged down his face. “Instead, you get someone else’s seconds.”
The haze left my body, but that comment echoed in my mind. I sat up, heart stuttering.
His eyes snapped open, following the motion. His throat bobbed. Regret broke across his expression, but no words followed.
I cupped his cheek and searched him. I’d never met his wife, but I wished a dragon had devoured her whole. “What did she do to you?”
A flicker of pain crossed his features, but he masked it. “Whatever damage she caused—I brought it on myself.” The twitch at the corner of his eye said otherwise, but he kept it buried.
“You didn’t invite that kind of cruelty. No one does.”
“I married her.” He barked a bitter laugh and pulled his head from my hand. “Well done. My need has been stifled.”
I sank, a frown pulling at my brow. He was hiding something—a wound festering beneath the surface. He kept it locked away, afraid it would change the way I saw him.
“We’ve a long day ahead. You should rest.” He rose, back to me as he adjusted his trousers and fastened his belt.
Negotiations drained us both, but this wasn’t about politics. Not really.
I stood, walked to the mirror, and passed him without a word. Fingers smoothed my dress. I fixed the collar he’d loosened. In the glass, I caught his reflection—brows slanted, gaze shadowed as he studied me.
There would be time. A lifetime to unearth every buried thing between us. I didn’t need to press now.
I turned with a faint smile—an attempt at conveying his dismissal hadn’t hurt me. “Good night, Kallias.”