Page 115 of Captive of the Stolen Empire

“I remember some of what this looked like,” Lucien said, his arm sliding around me to hold me close. “I’m sure it’s not exactly right, but—”

“It’s perfect.” I turned to him, sun glinting off his chestnut hair and the stubble across his jaw. In this setting, without his armor, he almost looked like a poor fisherman relaxing in the afternoon sun after a long morning at sea.

“One day soon, you’ll get to go back here. To real sand and waves. To your people.”

It should have been all I ever wanted. Once it was. But without the man at my side, the vision would be incomplete.

“Only if I can take you with me.”

His features morphed into a sad smile. “They’d never welcome me there. Not after all I’ve done.”

I took his hand in mine, squeezing tight. “Then we’ll go somewhere else. Together.”

He looked at me aghast. “Your home. Your title. It’s what you wanted.”

“I did.” I smiled in return. “It’s all I ever wanted. Until you. You saw the woman beyond the title and responsibilities when I couldn’t see her myself. We promised we’d find ourselves together, right? I can’t do that without you.” I paused, savoring the crash of waves and call of birds. “In the arena, you showed everyone my city falling.”

His hand slid away, as did his attention. “Yes. The emperor expected me to show your greatest fear or your darkest memory like I had done with the others before. It’s what they needed to see.”

“Well, you may have messed up. That wasn’t it.”

He looked at me from the corner of his eye, his attention still downcast. “It wasn’t?”

I shook my head. “When I was in that cell, I thought I’d lost you. I thought you’d turned your back on me for good. It crushed me—more than losing my city, more than the death I witnessed. Feeling like I’d found my other half only to shatter the ties between us was worse than anything else.”

“Ilya.” Lucien pulled me tight. The heat from his body cocooned me, chasing away the remembered darkness of the cell more than the fake sun above. “I felt the same way when they brought you before the emperor,” he whispered against my hair. “My best chance was for him not to understand what you meant to me and to get you out later. I was almost too late.”

“But you came. When I needed you the most, you came.”

Lucien released me, leaving only a handsbreadth between us.

“I don’t want to go back to all this without you,” I said. “Somehow, I think I fell in love with you.” I bit my lip, watching his expression as the words sank in. My skin tingled as his wide-eyed gape transformed into a wolfish smile.

“You think?” His brows rose.

Impossibly, more heat rushed to my face, my chest, even lower. “I know.” I traced the muscular planes of his chest, debating whether to continue. “It took losing you for me to be sure, but you’re my future. What I want.”

Lucien stroked my cheek, drawing my face a breath away from his. “I love you too, Ilya.”

His kiss lit up my soul, more scorching than the fake sun on my shoulders and more enticing than the waves still teasing my feet.

My arms slid around his neck, pulling him into a deep embrace that reflected all the joyful emotion threatening to burst from my heart.

He loved me. And I loved him.

We might have to face an army come the morning, but none of that mattered. Not with his lips on mine, his breath in my lungs, and his arms holding me tight.

Lucien’s tongue teased my lips. I opened for him without question, meeting him in a dance of passion and forgiveness. My hands tangled in his hair, then slid down his back, a vain attempt to feel all of him as I pressed against him, my body practically in his lap.

His fingers dug into my skin, possessive but not painful. Everywhere our bodies touched came alight from an inner fire.

I panted for breath when Lucien pulled away. The soul-deep, hooded gaze he shot my way sent me squirming in desire. At some point, his illusion had faded. A wood and stone roof replaced the sun. My feet touched the cool floor. Our rock had become the dingy, narrow bed once more. Must and mold replaced with sweet, salty air. Yet none of that mattered. He was my sun, heating me from within and sending waves of desire crashing through me.

I ached for him, deep in my core. Evidence of my desire grew between my legs, slick and eager.

A tug on his waistband signaled my wishes. His grin was the only answer I needed.

His thumb slid across my breast, teasing the stiff peaks under my dress as I licked my lips and took in his form. “My turn,” he said, voice husky.

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