Page 88 of The Nightmare Queen

“Mmm. Next time you attend, I’ll petition that they add a flogging or maybe a hanging?” His chest presses up against me and the rumbling of his quiet laughter vibrates across my back. I can feel the pads of his cool fingers brush a few rogue strands from my neck. The featherlight touch has me fighting every muscle in my body that wants to lean into him.

There’s no one to watch you now. No part to play. Remember. You. Hate. Him.I repeat in my mind, the walls closed tight to the seal so he doesn’t hear me needing to convince myself. “It’s stifling. The air of normalcy with your enemy standing in the room.”

If even possible his voice seems to get deeper. More sultry. “Ah. Well see, technically I have two enemies standing in the room with me. One dangerously close at the moment.” He mutters against my hair, the proximity between us is serving only to prove that with each day the hard lines of our partnership seem to blur more.

“I’ll remedy that.” I say, pushing off the railing and pulling myself away from his nearness. I’m hoping the distance created will give me a moment to clear him from my senses.

It doesn’t, and the distance is short lived.

Rorin’s hand meets my wrist and whips me around so that he has me caged me against the alcove wall. The two of us are now completely shrouded in shadows, away from anyone who might decide to look up into the balcony. “Eveera.” I struggle to keep my gaze cast down and sever any further progression of the two of us but it’s too late. Heknowsme.

His finger hooks under my chin. “Give me those eyes, Nightmare.”

Reluctantly, I look up, a war of emotions raging inside of me. His frustration mirrors my own and I see now that I am not the only one fighting this war. That I’m not alone in fighting to not lose control, to not give in. But day by day, from the moment we met, we never stood a chance at winning that war. Our chests are pressed together, both heaving in breaths. Our position is precarious against the stone.

Those molten hazel eyes drop to my lips and then my throat and before I realize what’s happening he presses his lips against my pulse and lingers there. I shift one of my hands off the cold wall and lay it on his chest. My intentwasto push him away, to rebuild the walls between us…that was the intent at least…

The tension melts from his body the moment my hand touches him back and he melts into me. His right hand comes down from above my head to grip the nape of my neck while he dips mouth to my throat again, leaving a trail of hot kisses up the column of it. I can’t help the gasp that slips out as I feel the flick of his tongue back and forth against my pulse. He groans at the noise I made, his hand flexing while latching harder onto my skin.

“What would it take to hear that again?”The velvet of his voice trickles down the seal into my mind. His hand abandons the grip on the back of my neck, dropping down to toy with the slit in my dress. Rough fingertips graze against my bare thigh. His lips find the placebehind my ear that when he nips at it causes my knees to buckle. “You’re intoxicating, Nightmare.” My palm is still frozen, trapped between us. The only things leaving me are sighs that should be protests but instead are only more encouragement. My left hand at some point made its way underneath his doublet and is wrinkling the loose fabric of his shirt.

A kiss presses in at my temple and Rorin lets out a dark laugh, “oh but you hate me.” The tone of his voice is solemn, desperate. “Fuck.You hate me.”

I stay rooted in my spot, I don’t breathe, I don’t speak. He looks at me and I can feel my face wanting to crumple at the plea in those eyes. I’m fighting the urge, with every scrap of self-resolve I have, to not throw myself at him. To not kiss him until our lips are numb and our clothes are a wadded and torn up mess on the floor. He brings both hands away from my body to cup my face, drawing our foreheads together. “I have to hear you say it, beloved. Ineedto hear you say it.” He pleads, his voice almost inaudible.

Beloved.The word rings through my mind as blood rushes into my ears.Beloved.It’s not the first time he’s used this endearment but, this time, it feels real. It doesn’t feel like we are playing a part anymore. “Say what?” I choke out.

He pulls back, thumb stroking my cheek. “I need to hear you tell me you hate me. Just like all those times before, I need you to tell me now. Because if you don’t, I’ll assume you’re feeling all the things I am right at this moment and take that as my invitation. Because if you don’t, I won’t be able to stop. Won’t be able to stop kissing you orneeding you.I won’t be able to erase the feel of your skin underneath my fingers. Hell, I may never be able to do that last one regardless.” He’s breathing heavily, his words all rushing together. “Have mercy on me, Nightmare. Just this once, have mercy…tell me you hateme.”

He’s begging me. The taunt I made all those weeks ago, about liking the idea of him begging me for something, never did I think he would be begging for this. For the three words that I’ve been chanting in my head as a reminder for my stupid, feeble heart.

The palm I have resting on his chest slides up slowly to lay against his neck. “I hate you.” I whisper.

And I don’t mean a damn word of it.

His touch falls so quickly from my face, taking rapid steps back from me. He nods, rubbing rubbing his jaw and pressing his tongue into his cheek.“A-hem.Thank you.” Rorin turns quickly on his heel and every step he takes further away from me feels worse than the whips I’ve used across my skin.

You were supposed to hate him…

The words drift into my mind. A painful reminder.

I know I was…

Rorin

“DAMMIT!” I curse. I’ve never walked faster in my life back to my rooms than I do while leaving her in that alcove. I came this close. This. Close. To giving into everything I’ve been craving for weeks.

The goal when I sought her out was simple; ask permission, get denied, go against the denial, convince the queen of horrors herself to join our cause, win our cause, send the queen home.

Nowhere in there did falling in love with her become a part of the plan.

How foolish I am. Not just for loving her, but also for loving her despite knowing she will never allow herself to reciprocate it. It’s maddening, everything about her. Her voice, her laugh, her scent, her salacious smile. She’s bewitching, and she knows it.

Master manipulator.My conscience reminds me.

I guess one has to be when her magic is just that - manipulation. And I played willingly right into her hand. Lapping from her palm like a starved dog.

Will had me pulled aside to deal with one of the lord’s - Lord Bergery - hysterical tantrums about the pompous Lord Birk. His father had beenattempting to tame the explosive, so that he wouldn’t have to bother my father. My father who was too busy kissing the ass of King Baelor and his daughter instead of paying attention when his own lords get out of hand.

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