Twenty-six
Ariadnne
Nieve led her through the corridors, down passages older, less grand, and much quieter than the ones she’d walked earlier. If Ariadnne wasn’t mistaken, these were the servant’s passages.
Eventually, when they were far from prying eyes, Nieve took her hand—leading her into a dimly-lit corridor, the contours of her face lit by flicking faelights.
‘I hope you don’t mind if we take the less scenic route,’ she said quietly. ‘These passages are rarely used, and I’d like the chance to talk without everyone listening. It feels like there might be… unresolved tension between us.’
Ariadnne’s pulse thudded in her neck, still racing after the adrenaline of Melixanthe’s attack. Leth’s threats.
Her grip on Nieve’s hand tightened.
‘I’m sorry.’
Nieve shot her a look that was hard to interpret, and Ariadnne’s guilt deepened.
‘I shouldn’t have snapped at you. I didn’t mean to, I was… I’m sorry.’
Nieve’s hand stiffened in hers before pulling away, leaving Ariadnne’s palm empty.
‘It’s okay.’ Nieve shrugged. ‘I get it—you were scared for Melixanthe.’
‘Yes, but…’
A stray wisp of silver hair escaped Nieve’s braid, clinging to her cheek. She swept it behind an ear, annoyed.
‘Look.’ She tilted her head and the hair drifted free.
‘First of all, I didn’t appreciate you thinking I could hurt Melixanthe.
Not when you should know I’d never hurt someone you care about, even if I don’t fully understand why, since she seems to be part of the reason this is so bloody hard. ’ She gestured between them.
Ariadnne bowed her head. ‘I won’t apologise for caring for her. She tries. She’s the only one who ever has.’
‘I’m trying.’ Nieve’s steel eyes softened.
‘I know.’
A lump formed in Ariadnne’s throat. Nieve was trying. She hadn’t turned away, yet.
‘I’m sorry,’ Ariadnne repeated. ‘I saw red—not that that’s an excuse. I’m still struggling to believe it was an accident.’
‘You think someone hurt her on purpose?’
Ariadnne nodded and Nieve’s brows drew close, crinkling her forehead into three neat little lines.
‘I could look into it? See if anyone has been grumbling about her?’
Ariadnne’s breath caught. ‘Really?’
‘Of course. If Melixanthe matters to you, she matters to me.’
The last remnants of Ariadnne’s anger dissolved. Her cheeks heated; Nieve was too good for her, in so many ways.
‘You said ‘First of all’?’ She nudged Nieve’s boot with her toe. ‘Was there a ‘Second of all’?’
Nieve shifted. ‘What did Leth mean?’
‘What?’
Nieve’s eyes hardened. ‘In the yard. I thought I heard him—’
‘—say I’m to breed with a varan. Yes, I heard that too,’ Ariadnne spat.
Nieve’s voice dropped low. ‘They wouldn’t…’
‘They would.’
Nieve took half a step back. ‘I won’t let that happen.’
‘How? They own me, Nieve. They’ve treated me like a commodity, tortured me and contained me from the moment I arrived. This is no different.’
Nieve’s eyes grew wide. ‘Tortured…?’
‘Did you think all my scars are from a few border skirmishes?’
Horror crept across Nieve’s face.
‘I was a difficult youth,’ Ariadnne continued. ‘They broke me the only way they knew how. I don’t know how it is for the others, but that’s how it was for me. How it still is if I ‘transgress’.’
From Nieve’s incredulous stare, Ariadnne guessed things were different for the others. Or at least their training wasn’t public.
‘I didn’t know… I’ve never asked Lucius what his life was like…’
Ariadnne’s lip twisted as Nieve stepped forwards to take one of her hands.
‘I swear, I won’t let them use you like that.’
Ariadnne wanted badly to believe her; to believe in a future that didn’t involve being a pawn in the Guild’s games. Nieve looked ready to attack the world to keep her safe, the sight igniting emotions Ariadnne wasn’t equipped to deal with. Not when her life wasn’t her own.
‘I don’t want to think about it. Not now,’ she said, swallowing. ‘But regardless. I’m sorry I let my anger run away with me, that I took it out on you. I’ve always been prone to biting first, thinking later.’
Nieve’s brows rose.
‘I mean, my dragon bites…’
Nieve’s brows rose higher, and the corner of her mouth curled.
‘Well, I don’t mind a bit of biting, but maybe ask me next time…’
Ariadnne flushed, and Nieve grinned, sliding closer as their tension melted away.
‘Biting. Shouting. Being all demanding… witnessing you lose your temper was—’
‘Off-putting…?’ Ariadnne supplied.
‘Exciting.’ Nieve’s smile spread as Ariadnne frowned. Nieve laughed. ‘Oh, you’re fun to tease.’
Ariadnne huffed a breath, and without thinking reached to brush a wayward fleck of dust from the corner of Nieve’s jaw.
Nieve’s breath hitched, and Ariadnne was suddenly very aware of how intimate the touch was as Nieve’s breath fluttered against her wrist. Ariadnne’s heart jumped into her throat, the ache she had felt since they’d returned intensifying tenfold.
Nieve was here, and no one was looking over their shoulders. Her dragon mewled happily.
‘It’s strange,’ Ariadnne whispered. ‘My dragon really likes you …’
Nieve’s lips parted, about to say something when she changed her mind.
Instead, her expression shifted into a wistful smile.
Ariadnne puzzled over the expression. There was something Nieve was holding back, something she was afraid to say, and whatever it was scared her. Nieve didn’t seem afraid of much.
When Nieve’s smile turned playful again, her worry dissipated.
The corridor was so quiet that Ariadnne could hear the pound of her pulse.
No one was coming to find them. Not for a while, anyway.
She licked her lips, nervous energy wrapping itself around her core.
Nieve was close enough that her scent lit Ariadnne up, the flutter at Nieve’s throat matching her own quickening beat.
Ariadnne wanted. Gods, how she wanted. She needed to know Nieve felt the same.
That she wasn’t thinking this would be too hard—
‘Can I kiss you?’ Nieve asked, her smile splitting the air like the sun breaking through the bleakest winter, a smile that swept away every doubt.
Ariadnne crashed forwards, weeks of yearning and desire colliding with a groan, Ariadnne sinking into the softness of Nieve’s upturned mouth, tasting honey, sweet berries, and melted snow.
Nieve tasted how Ariadnne imagined freedom would feel.
Like home.
Her body sang, every inch of her skin waking with a jolt. With a moan, Ariadnne tried to pull Nieve closer, misjudging her step and sending them stumbling into the wall. Nieve raised her eyebrows, amusement shining in her eyes.
Ariadnne leant in to kiss the mirth from her face.
‘Are you laughing at me?’ She traced a finger down the long line of Nieve’s neck, enjoying the shudder that followed in its wake. She’d spent weeks longing to have Nieve alone—to make her body sing the way hers did each time she thought of her.
‘What if I am?’ Nieve teased, her voice infuriatingly soft.
Ariadnne growled and kissed her harder, gasping as Nieve’s tongue slid against hers like smooth, hot silk. She felt Nieve’s mouth curve at her reaction, flicking her tongue again.
Ariadnne’s knees buckled.
It wasn’t enough. She needed more.
She would always need more.
Her hands fumbled against the leather straps that fastened Nieve’s armour over her leathers with little thought except that the plate was in the way of her feeling Nieve’s body against hers.
‘Off…’ she mumbled against Nieve’s mouth.
In response, Nieve seized Ariadnne’s bottom lip with her teeth, the sharp points of her canines digging into her sensitive flesh and sending a thrill of pleasure down Ariadnne’s spine.
With a moan, Ariadnne doubled her efforts, buckles springing free and sending Nieve’s beautifully wrought armour unceremoniously to the floor, leaving her in her leathers.
They were both beyond caring who heard the clatter as Ariadnne pressed forwards, revelling in Nieve’s shape, the way her curves fit against hers.
She dipped her head to Nieve’s neck, inhaling her sharp, pine scent and teasing the sensitive skin with her tongue.
As Nieve writhed, Ariadnne moaned, running her hands down the leather cladding Nieve’s sides, to her waist.
‘Oh no you don’t…’ Nieve gasped, grabbing Ariadnne’s wrists. Her brow arched, and with surprising strength for someone so slight, she spun them so that Ariadnne was pinned against the wall.
‘I like you like this,’ she teased, holding Ariadnne’s wrists firmly at her sides and whispering in her ear. ‘You’re always so controlled. You don’t have to be, with me. I’ve got you.’ She grazed Ariadnne’s lips, a pulse of desire winding through Ariadnne’s body, settling low in her belly.
She never wanted this to stop.
Nieve held her firmly, planting gentle kisses beneath Ariadnne’s ear, a line of sensuous heat trailing her tongue as she traced a path towards her collarbone.
Enveloped in Nieve’s scent, Ariadnne could have died from pure need—her body taught as a string, waiting to be plucked.
She arched forwards, moaning as her robe slipped off one shoulder, leaving her skin bare and free to be teased by Nieve’s wicked tongue.
‘Please…’ Her eyes fluttered shut, anticipation building.
‘Yes?’ Nieve smiled, following her tongue with a sharp brush of canines that sent Ariadnne’s stomach into free-fall—igniting and burning, freezing and melting.
Nieve’s body pressed against Ariadnne’s and, oh gods…
her skin… the smell of her hair…the heat of her breath.
It was all too much and yet not enough. Her body wanted more.
Torturously, Nieve’s teeth applied pressure to the point where Ariadnne’s neck met her shoulder, winning a gasp.
Nieve hummed, pleased. She bit down again, with excruciating gentleness, and Ariadnne writhed against the wall, Nieve’s grip on her wrists tight.
Nieve tutted as Ariadnne tried to break free of her grasp. ‘I’m not done, beautiful dragon.’ She gently kissed the mark left by her teeth.