“I will, now please just stand, or loom, or dosomethingother than this.”
He pulled her close, his eyes sparkling with mischief.
“Would you like that improper apology now?” he asked, his hands skating up her legs.
“I—I—n-no,” she stammered. “P-please just stop kneeling.”
“It won’t be kneeling if you join me,” he said, hands gripping her thighs before he trailed them back down her legs. “You have a king on his knees. Why not take advantage?”
Her brows pinched. How could he suggest such a thing? They’d been at each other’s throats just moments ago. Maybe she would never understand him. Once again, she was playinghisgame. He might be on his knees, but he remained in control. Goddess, he was bad for her. She couldn’t forget who and what he was, even for a moment. Every time she did, he turned the tables on her. Time for a course correction.
“Then tell me why you lost your temper with me.”
“That—”
His eyes shuttered. He made to stand. Aurora placed her hand on his shoulder, stilling him.
“—Or do I not actually have a king on his knees?”
His hands gripped her thighs as he glared at her mulishly. Better. This was much preferable to falling for his tricks. If he wished to ensnare her, he’d best not fall into his own traps.
He remained there for some time, hands gripping her thighs, refusing to let go. Long enough for her to recognise that he was wrestling with demons and not just stubbornness. And the moment he saw that she’d understood that, he jerked away as if burned, getting to his feet. Aurora advanced on him, refusing to give him space to rebuild his walls. If he could smash through hers without a thought, she would return the favour. Let him be on the defensive for once.
“If you can’t answer me, we’re done. You’ll never see me again,” she threatened.
“That’s not—”
“What?Fair?When areyouever fair?” she interrupted, raising her brow.
He ran a hand down his face, weighing his options. It was clear he considered being vulnerable a weakness he simply didn’t tolerate in himself. She had to know if he were capable of truly giving something of himself to her. It was clear he was happy to share his physical body, but not his heart. And a man who couldn’t share his heart was not to be trusted.
He snarled.
“As you wish. I told you of my brother. The moment I awakened my magic, I was responsible for his health. The night he died, I’d slipped away to drink and carouse. When I’d returned, he was gone. What you said…it reminded me of that night. There, are you happy?Satisfied?”
Oh, merciful Triad, no wonder he’d acted the way he had. He blamed himself. Just as she’d blamed him.
“How could I be?” she asked, her brows pinched.
He lunged at her, fury in his eyes, tackling her to the ground. She braced for the impact, but even in his anger, he’d cupped the back of her head, preventing any hurt.
“You dare—”
“Theron,” she said, her voice soft. “I’m sorry. No one with a heart would be happy after hearing that. You must’ve been young when it happened.”
“I don’t want your pity!”
She reached up to cup his face. Goddesses forgive her, she’d stepped on the tenderest part of his heart without knowing it. Beneath all his bluster and scheming, he was just a man. She recalled that night again, the things he’d said, the things she’d shouted back, but now she understood.
“What about my kindness?” she offered.
“I don’t need your coddling.”
“Then whatdoyou need?”
He froze, as if he couldn’t name the thing he needed—dare not name it. He swallowed, eyeing her like it wasshewho was crouched atophim, pinning him down in the dirt. In that moment, her heart hurt for him. For them. Two people who had no one they could rely on utterly for warmth and compassion. At least she’d had Phaedra. Would have her again if she succeeded. Had he ever had anyone like that?
“Are you proposing to give me what I need?” he asked, leaning into her touch.