The Dark in the Sky #3
“It's been up there for two centuries,” I said it quietly. Like saying it too loud might make it move. “The permanent dark. It isn't what the accident caused. It's what came out of you.”
He said nothing and sat up straight. Watching me as I took it all in.
“Do the people know?” I asked.
“Yes,” he said. “It’s treason to mention it outside of Primoria.”
I thought about the size of it. The entire sky.
Every house in Twilight sleeping beneath it for two hundred years.
If all of that was at his disposal, if it ever came down, if it ever moved with intention rather than just sitting above us like weather.
Of course they couldn’t let Thalvarn know.
Of course it would be treason to even speak of it.
He wasn't just dangerous.
He was something there were no words for yet.
“This whole time,” I said. “We've been sleeping under it.”
“It's stable.” He took my hand, trying to reassure me. “It has been for centuries. I've kept it stable.”
I searched his face. He drew back as if there was something worth hiding.
A shiver ran down my spine.
“You can reach it,” I said too softly. My words hit somewhere undefended. “Do the people know that?”
The silence pressed in on us, or that was his magic reacting. It was hard to tell now.
His throat moved before he spoke. “No.”
“You can reach it,” I said again. “But you're afraid to.”
“Yes.”
He should be. I should be. Every instinct I had spent years sharpening was telling me to be afraid, to catalogue this, to file it under things that could kill me and adjust accordingly.
I looked at him.
His eyes moved across my face, searching for the thing he was certain was coming, bracing for it. Sitting very still, waiting for me to say the words that would break him.
I closed the distance instead. Angling my body toward him, leaning in enough that I had to tilt my head up to look at him.
He watched me do it. He looked younger. Unguarded in a way I had only seen once before, in the Hollow, on one knee with everything stripped back.
I took his face in both hands. “You don't have to be afraid of it anymore.”
He went rigid for a moment. Then he bent to kiss me with the kind of gentleness as if he wasn’t sure if he was allowed.
My lips parted for him. He tasted like wine, and there was something about it that sent heat through my body. His hand came up to my face, the other pulling me flush against him. I breathed him in, needing to be closer, but there was no space left between us, and yet it didn’t feel like enough.
A low growl escaped him that short-circuited every thought I had about restraint.
Grisael could walk up here right now, and I wouldn’t stop kissing him.
His tongue was doing things that could very well be classified as magic.
My hand found its way from his hair to his shirt, then to the soft skin of his shoulders.
His hand trailed from my waist to my hips before slipping under the slit of my dress.
The heat of his palm against my bare thigh sent an ache to parts of me that should not be named in public.
His lips left mine to press open-mouthed kisses down my neck, which earned a gasp from me that I couldn’t contain.
I dipped my head back to give him access.
“Caelan,” I said breathlessly. Meant to warn, but only encouraged him more.
Suddenly, I felt the cushions against my back, and Caelan had draped himself over me. My dress slipped from my leg. The cold air kissing overheated skin.
I could feel exactly how much he wanted me, and I bucked against the length of him. He showed me his appreciation through a low moan against my mouth and a squeeze of my thigh.
This was scandalous. This was absolutely perfect. This was—
Then he pulled back.
My chest rose and fell hard as I blinked up at him.
His eyes were dark and hooded, looking at me with hunger that made me want to kiss him again.
“We have to stop.” His voice strained. “Because I’m three seconds from forgetting we’re in public.”
I wanted to punch him for his sensibility.
My lips were kissed swollen, my throat bone dry, and I was absolutely restless with desire, but he was right.
He sat up and smoothed my skirt for me like the gentleman he was.
I cleared my throat and ran a hand through my hair.
He stared at me as if he were fighting something internally and trying very hard not to ruin us again. He lifted a finger and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear.
“If we were anywhere else,” his eyes dropped to my mouth, then swept over my body before returning to my eyes. “I would have you against the nearest surface and I would not stop until you forgot your own name.”
My breath caught before I could stop it. It was subtle. I hoped.
He grinned.
It had not been subtle.
But I was not a coward, and retreat had never been my style. Mostly.
I leaned in. “Keep talking like that and see how quickly I forget about decency.”
His grin faded. Eyes darkening with need.
I rose from the couch and tossed a smile over my shoulder.
“Coming, prince?” I asked sweetly. “Or are your legs no longer working?”
I didn’t wait for his answer. I simply turned and walked, certain that I would hear his footsteps behind me.
He followed.