He groans, nuzzling my pulse point. I know he has to feel how fast it is, how unsteady. “What would you have done if I knocked? If I came in?”

An exhale shivers out of me. “I would have said yes.”

His eyes flash with heat, and then his mouth is on mine again. I lick the rain off his lips. Savor the taste of him. Lightning streaks across the sky, the rumble of thunder lost beneath the roar of blood in my ears. We’re connected at every burning point, and I can’t think past the heat of his hands, his body caging me in, the taste of rain on his mouth.

I’ve never been touched like this. Rough and reverent, coaxing and commanding. This is madness. Mutually assured destruction. This must be what damnation feels like—wanting the thing that will inevitably annihilate you.

But I can’t stop.

“Tell me what you would have done to me,” I say. Drunk on sensation and aching to see how far I can push. “Tell me how you’d take me if I belonged to you.”

He goes still and pulls back, expression suddenly clear and sober. “We’re just fooling around, right?” The words land like a fatal blow. “Just playing pretend?”

Reality seeps in, dousing the flames. What am I doing what am I doing what am I doing? I forgot myself. I forgot what we are.

If you’re worried about breaking my heart, you shouldn’t be. I’m not in danger of giving it to you.

But I am. I hadn’t been honest because it’s so much easier to feign indifference than to let the Wolf realize he’s burrowing into my vulnerable places and making me forget armor.

My expression shutters, a wall slamming down. “Of course. What else would it be?”

Something flickers across his face, there and gone too quickly to catch. “No getting attached. No catching feelings,” he says firmly. “Just games.”

The reminder twists like a knife. He’s letting me down easy, as gently as he’s capable of. I’m the fool who forgot myself.

I lock down those messy, inconvenient feelings until my voice is steady. “I already told you, I’m in no danger.”

I can lie just as easily. There are no soft places between predator and prey. No kindness to be found in the space between the blade and the killing stroke.

“Take me back,” I say. “Maybe something will nudge loose about Rhosyn later.”

Lightning flashes across the sky, followed by a loud clap of thunder. The Wolf lifts me into his arms, but his touch is perfunctory, indifferent. The rain falls harder.

I’ve never felt so cold.

OceanofPDF.com

29

BRYONY

THE MOMENT THE tower breaks through the clouds, the Wolf’s entire body goes taut, and his arms tighten around me like he’s preparing for a fight.

“Shit.” He banks hard to the left, wings slicing through the air.

“What is it?” My fingers dig into his shoulders at the sudden change in direction.

He lands on one of the terraces, his hands firm on my waist as he sets me down. “Stay inside until I come to get you, understand?”

“Why? What’s wrong?”

“We have company.” He scans the gardens below, jaw tight. “One of Alexios’ Enforcers. Someone who won’t hesitate to cut you open.”

A chill snakes down my spine, but I nod. “Okay. I’ll stay out of sight.”

The backs of his fingers brush my cheek in a fleeting caress, and then he’s gone, vaulting over the railing in a flash of golden wings.

I know I should listen and retreat inside like he ordered, but curiosity itches beneath my skin, a restless tug I can’t ignore. Holding my breath, I creep to the railing and peer over the edge.

A demigoddess perches on the garden fountain with her long legs stretched out in front of her. Her dark hair glints in the fading sun, falling in a long braid down her back, tied off with a pretty red ribbon. She rises when the Wolf lands a few feet away, dusting off the loose, airy dress she’s wearing. This is a warrior? Did she get fancied up for him?

“Hi,” she says to the Wolf. Of course, her voice is pretty, too.

“Arcadia,” he greets. “You look lovely.”

I scowl down at my dirty training clothes and the dirt under my fingernails. Has he ever called me lovely?

She grins. “Don’t I always?”

The Wolf snaps his wings closed, his lips lifting in amusement. “Don’t tell me you came all this way to fish for compliments.”

“Of course not.” Arcadia steps closer, and I can’t help but notice what a striking pair they make: her silver wings to his gold, both of them with that same glittering skin. Like they were designed to match. “I wanted to make sure you were okay after the warehouse. See if you needed anything.”

Warehouse? What warehouse? My scowl deepens.

“I’m fine,” he says, his voice gentling in a way that makes something twist in my chest. “You didn’t have to check on me.”

That ugly burning sensation stabbing through my chest is new enough to irritate me, and clear enough to be identifiable: jealousy. I’m jealous of her. And when she smiles at him, I have to swallow back the growl building in my throat.

Because it’s a smile that says, we’ve fucked.

“Yes, well,” she says, “I worry when you go quiet. An annoying habit I can’t seem to kick.” She takes a deep breath as if steeling herself. “But, listen… do you still want me for the centennial? I’d ask Elias, but I don’t want to share, and his room’s too crowded for my tastes.”

The Wolf arches a brow. “There’s always Gabriel.”

“Sure,” she says with a shrug, “but he’s a decent consolation prize at best if you’re not available.”

He lets out a laugh, shaking his head. “You really know how to make a male feel special, Cady.”

The bottom drops out of my stomach. Cady. Not Arcadia—Cady. The familiarity in that nickname speaks of a long history. Something I can’t compete with. I shouldn’t even want to compete with it, and yet the envy is burrowing deeper, settling alongside the yearning. That ache since he kissed me on the Duehavn. Erasing every reminder that I shouldn’t want him, that he’s no good for me.

“I notice you’re not saying no.”

“Haven’t said yes either,” he points out.

She closes the distance between them, and I grip the balcony railing so hard it bites into my palms. Move, I think desperately. Step back. Don’t let her—

But he doesn’t move. He stays exactly where he is, letting her invade his space like she belongs there.

“Oh, come on. You’ve spent every Aethertide fucking me in the sky, against the wall, or bent over every surface. If you want to try out someone new this cycle, just say so. I won’t take it personally.”

Heat floods my cheeks, my throat working around a sudden surge of nausea as her words register. She wants him for the rut—like she has every other cycle.

Every. Other. Cycle.

In the sky, against the wall—

I can’t breathe through the emotions battering against my ribcage. Can’t reconcile the male who held me in the rain, who kissed me like I was drowning and he was air, with someone who has centuries of history with another woman.

Bent over every—

Arcadia stretches up on her toes, and I wrench my gaze away before her lips find his. I don’t think I could survive seeing him touch her the way he touched me.

It meant nothing. He was just pretending.

The words chase themselves around in my mind as I stumble into my bathing chamber. With numb fingers, I yank off my rain-soaked clothes and sink into water just shy of scalding. The calming scents of chamomile and lavender rise with the steam, but it does nothing to quiet my chaotic thoughts.