Capturing me in his arms, he takes two steps and then we’re both falling, my thighs locking around his hips as he grinds against me. I can see the tension in his spine, the self-restraint—
“I’m not going to break,” I whisper.
“Good.” He slams inside me, piledriving me into the daybed.
Oh gods. Maybe I was a touch too cocky. It’s been a long time since I was this sexually active, and he was right…. He’s more than fae in all the ways that count.
There’s no mercy. This is more than a punishment. It’s a claiming, pure and simple, and I want to steal this moment from him. I want to remember every single second of this encounter.
I kiss him and undulate into every rough stroke. Maybe he senses the unspoken yearning that fills my heart, because he captures my face in his hands and kisses me so deeply and savagely, that a tear leaks from my eye.
Hauling my thigh up in a spill of skirts, he drives into me. “Look at me, Mira.”
I can’t help myself. I do.
“Look at me and know my truth.” There’s a tremor in his hands, as he levers himself off me with his elbows. “I have never known feelings such as this. It’s you. It’s always going to be you. And I’ve known it since the first time I kissed you.”
I grip his wrists, turning my face to press a kiss into his palms. I don’t know how we went from fucking to this sweet torture. Another hot tear slides down my cheek as he thrusts within me.
“Nor have I,” I whisper, because it’s the only truth I can give him.
18
It’s hours later, and I can barely move.
Keir helped me get dressed and then we stole back to our chambers in the lull of the storm before stripping each other down and tumbling into bed again. The ache between my thighs feels deliciously bruised in the best way.
Never a bad thing in this particular case, even if my heart is giving me trouble.
Or maybe it’s only giving me trouble because he’s kissing his way down my arms, as if he intends to pay homage to every single rune he marked me with. The second his mouth touches them, a shiver lights through me, like localized goose bumps.
It’s magic of some sort.
Maybe he wants to remind me of what I owe him.
Stop being so cynical. I close my eyes as his lips skate up my throat. Just enjoy the moment. Pretend… pretend he feels the same way.
“You missed one,” I whisper as he finally comes up for breath.
“No, I didn’t.” He breathes the words into my hair. “Three hundred and forty-three.”
My breath catches. I thought it was just me, but he must have been able to feel them too. For some reason, I feel vaguely naked and cold.
It’s a sense of cold so deep in my bones, it feels as though I’ve been warming myself by the fire for months, only to be shoved out into the blizzard.
Maybe that’s just prescience—a glimpse of tomorrow’s future when I play my hand.
“What’s wrong?” he whispers.
“Nothing’s wrong.”
“You’re such a liar.”
I allow myself a shiver. “I feel cold.”
Instantly, his arms are around me. “Then let me warm you.”
“Mmm.” I bury my face in his throat, my arms wrapped around him. He’s so warm it’s like snuggling with a bedwarmer. “When you were trying to convince me to be your bride, you should have led with this.”
“Would it have convinced you to accept my suit?”
I glance up coyly from beneath my lashes. There’s something teasing about his tone, as if we’re just playing make believe. But the look in his eyes is anything but.
“No,” I whisper. “I was there to do a job and steal the Dragon’s Heart. Instead, I failed.”
“Did you?” he muses, his voice rough with the dragon. Keir rolls onto his side, his amber eyes locked upon me. I don’t know what he’s thinking. I never do. He has the kind of eyes that can see straight through you, picking apart all your unspoken secrets, and yet his own are locked away and guarded.
“Can I ask you something?” I whisper, our faces mere inches apart.
A smile curls over his mouth. “Always.”
My focus shifts to his mouth. “Why do you want the cauldron so badly?”
I need to know.
Instantly, tension skates through him. It strips the past few hours away from us; once again we’re on different fields of the game board. “What do you mean?”
“You said you wanted me to find the horn, but you never told me exactly why you want to get your hands on the cauldron.” I’ve been distracted. It’s the only excuse I let such an important fact slip under my guard.
Keir pushes upright, the sheets falling into his lap. Shadows play over his face, and his hair falls forward, half obscuring his eyes. “You never asked.”
Grabbing the sheets, I haul them up around my breasts as I sit up too. Maybe it’s the timbre of his voice or the fact he didn’t directly answer me, but something tells me this conversation is not one I want to hold naked. Dragging a pillow behind me and propping it against the wall, I face him. “I’m asking now.”
Keir hauls a knee up to his chest, resting his arm on it. Ancient eyes examine me. “I don’t want to find it. I need to find it. Before someone else gets their hands on it.”
“It was washed into the sea,” I point out. “Maybe no one will find it.”
He doesn’t look convinced. “It will be found. It has its own part to play in the future.”
“Tell me,” I whisper.
He leans back against the window, his arms crossed over his massive chest. “I guess the story starts with Calliope.”
Calliope. I hug my knees to my chest. I don’t know what she has to do with—
His expression hardens. “Calliope told you she could trace her bloodlines all the way back to Queen Mab.”
“She said there was
