Page 111 of Shadows and Roses

Anais sat alone at her vanity, dark hair flowing down her back, a red and black nightgown falling loosely to her feet. The scent of roses was heavier in here, the scent ofhersoothing something inside him. His feet carried him closer.

Her eyes met his, the contact halting him. "Castien."

He flinched. That soft whisper of his name was like blade scraping his heart. He couldn’t let her see that. A performance. He’d managed it before he knew her; he could do so again.

"My Queen. Anais," he murmured as he glanced at her bed. The sheets were still ruffled. He couldn’t resist drawing nearer, letting his fingers tangle in the soft silk. "Thank you for seeing me."

Her lips curved gently. "It’s good to see you. You look well."

She looked like a lake in a desert.

Matching her smile with a small tilt of his own, he shoved his hand beneath the sheets. Still warm. Temptation called and he was powerless to fight it. Castien casually fell into her bed, soaking in her scent and heat as he forced his lips to hold that playful smile.

"I have a favor to ask, if I may," he said with an arm beneath his head.

She turned from the mirror, and he inhaled at the sharp neckline of her gown. The breath didn’t leave his lungs as she moved to stand beside him. "Tell me how I can help."

Talk to her.Octavius had suggested it more than once.

He exhaled slowly. Words and thoughts were too complicated, too tangled. This was easier.

"I’d like, if you don’t mind…" He couldn’t say it, but he reached out for her hand, her claws, and brought the sharps tips to the scars on his chest. Tingling fear caressed his skin. His heart pounded. Blinking, he focused on her. On his Queen. Her warmth. The shock in her eyes. Slowly, fear faded to an ache beneath his skin. This was his Queen, the Queen of his heart.

Even if she wanted nothing to do with him.

He let her hand rest there and raised his arms above his head. Holding her eyes, he found the words, though his voice was harsh. "I want you to hurt me. Octavius suggested…"

Uncertainty and wariness darted in her forest-green gaze. "I understand. Are you sure?"

Relief that she didn’t immediately deny him.

"Yes."

She lightly traced a white line on his chest, one of the longest marks. Something decided her, because she said, "I refuse to make you bleed. But anything else, if you’re absolutely certain."

He didn’t trust his voice, so he only nodded.

Smiling slightly, she asked in an almost light tone, "Then I suppose I’ll need your cease phrase."

No one had ever asked him that. He’d never needed one, but it was easy to think of something. He smiled back.

"Roses."

He had no idea what that look in her eyes meant. A forest in a storm. Surprise? Sadness? It was gone too quickly.

"Very well. Then this," she paused, holding his eyes as her claws sliced through his shirt, "comes off." He didn’t dare move. Shreds of white silk fell away. She gathered the fabric and wrapped it around his wrists, swiftly tying a knotthat bound him to her bed.

His heart was in his throat, thrumming in his ears. "Tighter."

Sharp clawtips pinned his chest. Emerald ice glared down. "You won’t fight me."

He’d never heard this Queen before. No, not the Queen. Anais, and her darkness that sang to him.

He trembled. Nodded.

Her shoulders seemed to relax slightly. "Good." Flattening her palm, her claws only scraped lightly as she rubbed his chest.

His head spun at the nearness of her skin, her body. Her massaging felt good, seeping into his muscles, making him tremble harder. He didn’t want to feel good. He wanted—

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