Page 23 of Dynasty of the Wicked

“S-stop teasing me,” she breathed. She scrambled further away from him on numbing legs and pulled herself into a tight ball. “We don’t need to do anything more than what is necessary. You teach me how to wield this magic, and then we leave and we can forget this all happened.”

He chuckled softly, and she appreciated the way his harsh features seemed to soften. “All right. But keep in mind that my magic is … terribly volatile at times. You’ll likely get hurt on many occasions.”

“It’s fine. So long as we can leave this horrible place.”

“Very well.” Feng Mian held his hand out toward her. “Come here. I need to touch your hands to form the marriage bond.”

She crawled over to him, all too aware that she likely smelled like sweat and grime and blood, that she was dressed in bloodstained and ripped clothes that exposed too much skin, and that her hair was greasy and stringy. She looked nothing like what a bride should look like. But it wasn’t like Feng Mian could see her inappropriate attire anyway, so she supposed it didn’t matter.

“Take that bastard’s cloak off.” Feng Mian’s nostrils flared. “I don’t want to smell him on you while we do this.”

She obliged wordlessly, shrugging off the cloak and tossing it toward the entrance of the cell. The wintry air brushed over her shoulders and she shivered.

Feng Mian shifted on the floor until he was sitting on his knees in front of her, and she mimicked his position as well. He slowly took both of her hands into his. Her heart pounded loudly, the blood rushing to her face. He was too close.

His hands were calloused, rough, and scabbed from earlier, the fingernails cracked and crusted with blood, but she foundherself leaning toward his warmth, toward his touch. She curled her small hands into his large ones.

“Will you be my wife, Princess Zhi Ruo?” he murmured, soft enough to send a tremble over her flesh.

He sounded so sincere, and if they weren’t trapped here in this cage, she would have thought he meant it. “Yes.”

“Now ask me the same.”

“Oh … will you—” She felt embarrassed for a moment. This sounded too intimate to be said between two strangers, but she pushed through her messy thoughts and murmured, “Will you be my husband, Zheng Feng Mian?”

“Yes.” He closed his eyes and exhaled softly. “Now I’ll use my magic to form a bond. I can’t spread magic out of my body because of these cuffs, but I can create a marriage bond with you. With this, we’ll be married. We’ll share magic, and we’ll … be one step closer to freedom.”

A tingle zapped through her fingers, so abruptly that she almost wrenched her hands back, but Feng Mian’s hold on her tightened, stopping her. All at once, a warm sensation bloomed in the center of her chest. A gasp escaped her mouth at the unexpected liquid heat that coursed through her veins.

She lifted her head to stare up at him, her mouth parting to ask him if this was his magic, but whatever words she wanted to say were cut off when he leaned closer to her and crushed his lips against hers. Her eyes widened, her body freezing in place. His mouth was soft, and warm, and a rush of heat bubbled up the surface of her flesh despite the winter coldness all around them.

All at once, her eyes fluttered shut, her mouth moving in tandem with his. He groaned softly, grasping the sides of her face with his rough, calloused hands and kissing her harder. The gentleness disappeared as he deepened their kiss with his tongue. Zhi Ruo felt drunk on the feeling, her inexperienceshowing as she melted in his arms. She didn’t know what to touch—his arms, his chest, his face?

He tasted like wicked temptation. Like blood and sweat and sweetness. Like something out of a fable; a taste that made her lightheaded. A taste that made her wantmore.

Her back arched without meaning to, her body leaning closer to his naturally. Like they fit together. A soft moan escaped from her lips.

That was all it took for him to pull back.

All at once, the warmth she had felt disappeared, and she stretched her fingers forward to grab him and pull him back. But something stopped her as she peered up at him. Embarrassment, maybe? Or abandonment? She wasn’t sure.

He was breathing heavily still, but that was about it. Nothing else on his shuttered face told her what he was thinking. Did he enjoy the kiss? Did he … want to kiss her?

A wave of embarrassment flooded over her. She had enjoyed it too much. She had to remind herself it was all a part of the marriage bond. Nothing more, nothing less.

“W-was that a part of the … ceremony?” she asked, breathlessly. She cleared her throat and smoothed down her frayed skirt with trembling hands. She still couldn’t believe she hadmoaned. Over a kiss? She was mortified.

He licked his lips, as if tasting her, and nodded slowly. “Of course.”

“I … see.” She pushed herself a foot away from him, hating the way her whole body trembled and was on fire. Whether it was from his magic, his touch, or the kiss, she wasn’t entirely sure. “When should we practice the magic?”

“It will take some time for your body to acclimate to my magic,” he said after a moment. “Maybe in an hour or so.”

She nodded, and then realized he couldn’t see that, so quickly said, “Yes, okay.”

An awkwardness filled the space between them, heightened by their staggered breathing. She hesitantly brushed her fingers over her lips. She had never kissed someone before and she had never thought it would feel so … passionate, soright.

But it was all for freeing themselves from this Kadian prison. There was no way she could develop feelings for him, no matter how beautiful or tempting he was.

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