Page 63 of The Artist and the Dragon

“Malik.” His name caught somewhere between a prayer and plea. Without waiting for a reply, she leaned more into him, narrowing the whisper of space between them until her lips pressed against his.

He met her readily, angling his head, his body, until they fit perfectly despite their precarious position on the coach’s narrow bench. A rush of tingles exploded across her skin, sending shivers down her spine. Something much warmer built low in her core, the sensation blocking out all her worries until it was just the two of them.

Unlike their first kiss, this one was slow. Careful. Tender. He lavished her mouth with reverence like a supplicant before the Goddess herself, begging for just a morsel of her grace. The softest nip of his teeth on her bottom lip elicited a little whimper from her. It was such a simple thing, this kiss, but somehow it seemed to rip her chest open, presenting her soul on a platter before him.

Bronwyn reached for the lapel of his coat, pushing it aside. She needed more. Closer.

Suddenly, Malik pulled back, his lips slipping away. His hand covered hers, halting her pursuit.

Her eyes flew wide, all the moment’s warmth doused in a burst of wintery ice. “I…”

Malik swallowed, chest rising and falling as he held her hand in place. “I want you. More than words. But not when you’re still uncertain.”

Uncertain? She started to shake her head. “I’m not—"

“You are. And that’s okay.” He placed her hand back in her lap. “Don’t you think I’ve come to know you at all?” A gentle smile lifted the corners of his lips. “I want you, Bronwyn. I will have you one day. But I’m content to wait until I can have all of you, nothing between us.” He brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. The touch elicited a jolt straight through her chest to the apex of her thighs. “I’ve waited months already. What’s a little longer?”

“But we— The dragons— If—”

He shook his head. “No more worries. Not tonight. I’ll be here when you are ready. I promise. When your heart is settled and your head is clear.”

She glanced away, biting her bottom lip if only to distract from the feel of him lingering there. “I should break things off with Lord Griffith, at least. Make it clear that—”

“No.”

She whipped her head back toward him. “What do you mean, no?”

“We can’t sever ties. Not publicly, anyway, not yet.”

Her stomach plummeted straight through the floor of the carriage. Because the plan must go on. No matter all they’d shared and revealed to each other, the world must remain ignorant of their connection. They still needed to find and stop the dragons. They had to save Ceridwen at all costs.

Goddess.How easy it was to forget her duty when all her thoughts were twisted up in his piercing stare.

She, too, was practiced in longing, in aching and waiting. And he was right. No matter that she loathed to admit it to herself, she was still unsteady, her emotions a mess. The night had twisted her up and wrung her dry like a wet cloth. Though she doubted the light of day would erase what she felt, it would be wise not to muddle her senses further with so much resting on her—on him, too.

A humorless laugh fell from her lips. “You worried about being able to pretend, if I returned your feelings. I think I understand why.”

He cupped her cheek, his thumb grazing her skin. “A trial if ever there was one. But if I’ve come to learn anything about you, it’s that you’re the most determined woman in this kingdom. If you want something done, it will be.”

She blinked away the emotion his words brought forth. A trial indeed, and she’d face it head-on. Anything for her sister.

Chapter 26

Malik

Malikpaintedthesymbolsfor about the tenth time. They were perfect. He knew they were. He checked the book again to be sure.

Seconds passed, and the blood still refused to fade and activate. A deep grumble left his lips, and he slammed a fist on the table, causing its contents to leap and rattle. “Damnable thing.”

He’d been trying to work out a containment spell, something to keep the papers for his detection spell safe before he met up with their targets. He needed to be absolutely certain of the papers’ accuracy, and he couldn’t be if the spell was triggered incidentally before his meeting. He wouldn’t harm innocents if it could be avoided. They still had time … through it grew shorter every day.

“No luck?” Drystan entered from the adjoining room where Ceridwen lay in her enchanted slumber. Dark circles lingered under his eyes. It must have been days since he’d shaved, for the beginnings of a beard clung to his strong jaw. Even his clothes seemed to hang more loosely on his frame.

Malik wiped the blood from his hands and tossed the stained cloth onto the table. “None.” He crossed his arms, leaning back in the ornate wooden chair. The swirls and designs on the back sat uncomfortably against his spine. Why his cousin had such uncomfortable furniture in his rooms was beyond him. Were he the king, Malik would have burned just about everything in the royal quarters and started anew.

Actually, now that he thought of it, Drystan pretty much had. Whoever had picked out the replacement furnishings hadn’t done their new monarch any favors.

The king wandered through the room like a ghost, there but not. “There was a rally in the city today, calling for me to step down. Did you know? They said amonstershouldn’t sit on the throne.”

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