Chapter 11 #2
"No." She stopped moving. The music continued, some formal arrangement that sounded like it belonged at a bloody funeral. "I need a break. Fifteen minutes."
The instructor inclined his head. "Of course, my lady. I will return shortly."
He glided out of the studio, leaving her alone.
Except she wasn't.
Raaevik stood against the far wall, arms crossed, eyes fixed on her. He'd been there the whole time, a dark shadow in the corner of the mirror. Watching. Always watching.
She turned to face him.
“You go too," she said. “I need some space.”
He didn't move. "I am assigned to your protection."
"You're assigned to drive me insane." Walking to the panel on the wall, she jabbed at the controls. The music swelled, louder now, drowning out the silence between them. "There. Now you can pretend you can't hear me."
"I can hear you regardless of the volume."
"Lathar super-hearing. Great." She spun to face him. "Then hear this. I didn't sleep last night."
His expression didn't change. But his eyes, those impossible violet eyes, locked onto hers with an intensity that made her skin prickle.
"Because of you," she continued. "Because you knelt in front of me and said... what you said. And then Thyaar called, and you couldn't get out of there fast enough."
"It was not appropriate for me to stay."
"Appropriate." She laughed, the sound jagged. "You held my hand to your chest and swore to burn down the empire for me, and you're worried about appropriate?"
He said nothing.
"You swore to burn it all down for me," she said, stepping closer. "Was that just words?"
His jaw tightened. "It was not just words."
"Then why are you standing over there?" She took another step. "Why are you pretending nothing happened?"
"Because everything has happened." His voice dropped, rough as gravel. "And I do not know how to undo it."
She was close now. Too close. The music swelled around them, that stupid formal dance music that she was supposed to learn for her fake wedding to a man she'd never asked to marry.
"I don't want you to undo it," she said.
He was trembling. Actually trembling… this massive warrior who could snap her in half without breaking a sweat. His hands were fisted at his sides, the tendons in his neck standing out.
"Emily." Her name sounded like a warning. "You do not understand what you are asking."
"I'm asking you to choose." She stepped into his space, so close she could feel the heat radiating off him. "Choose me. Not your duty. Not your honor. Me."
"If I choose you, I die."
"And if you don't choose me?"
She reached up. Touched his chest, right where his heart beat beneath the leather. It was pounding, racing against her palm.
"And if you don't choose me, what then? You go back to standing at my door, pretending you don't feel this?"
He closed his eyes. The music swelled around them, and she felt the thunder of his heart under her hand.
Then he moved.
Not toward her but past her. He reached over her shoulder, his body so close she could smell the leather and steel and something underneath that was purely him.
The click of the lock was the loudest sound in the room.
Her breath caught.
"Even standing this close to you is treason," he said.
His voice was barely recognisable now, a low rumble that vibrated through her bones.
"The dance you are learning, the imperial bonding dance, is sacred.
It is performed only by the emperor and empress.
For anyone else to dance it is punishable by death. "
"I don't care."
"I know." He looked down at her, and the control was cracking. She could see it in his eyes, the war between duty and desire. "That is the problem."
"Dance with me."
"Emily—" he growled in warning.
"Dance with me." She took his hand and placed it on her waist. The touch burned through the thin fabric of her practice clothes. "Commit treason with me. Right here. Right now."
His hand tightened on her hip. The other came up, hovering near her face, not quite touching.
"If I do this," he said, "there is no going back."
"Good." She leaned into him, felt his whole body shudder. "I don't want to go back."
The music swelled, and she began to move, pulling him with her.
The instructor had tried, but all he’d been able to do was show her the female steps.
Without a partner, it hadn’t made sense at all.
But now, with him, the first steps of the dance she'd been failing at all morning felt right. Natural.
He followed her lead for three steps, then he took over.
His body moved against hers, guiding her through the steps with a certainty that stole her breath. He knew this dance.
She looked up at him. His eyes were fixed on her face, expression in his eyes burning.
"You are the Emperor's chosen mate," he said, voice raw. "Every moment I touch you is a betrayal of my oath."
"I know."
"If they find out, they won't just kill me. They'll send you back to him."
"I know."
"And still you ask this of me."
Reaching up, she cupped his face in her hands. Drew him down until his forehead touched hers, and they were breathing the same air.
"I'm not asking anymore," she said.
As the music hit its peak, she reached up and pressed her lips to his.