Page 48 of Wrath of the Dragons
My eyes briefly shut as relief washes over me, and I soak in the details of the room all over again when I open them.It’s perfect.I finish writing my letter to Finnian before digging around the desk for the seal with our sigil.
Cayden’s body presses into mine from behind as I’m straightening up, and my pulse pounds throughout every inch of me. I feel the warmth of his bare chest through the thin night slip, and the loose pants he wears do nothing to hide the bulge contained within. “For Finnian, I’m assuming?”
The deep rumble of his voice sends sparks shooting through me. “Mhmm.”
“I’ll take it downstairs for you.” He pulls the now slightly crumpled letter from between my fingers and strides from the room. I douse the lanterns and climb back into bed, sighing as my sore and tired body finds reprieve. Gods, even the sheets smell like him.
“No line of pillows this time?” he asks when he returns, removing a dagger from the drawer of his nightstand and setting it on top.
“It’s entirely unnecessary. I’ve grown used to your hulking presence.”
He flexes his muscles, smirking at me as he reclines and tucks an arm beneath his head. I turn away from him to hide my face, settling into the pillows and pulling the plush covers up to my chin. The hair on the back of my neck stands up, and the urge to turn back to him is so strong it’s pulling me like the undertow of the sea.
I shut my eyes, trying to let sleep welcome me, but it’s not darkness behind my lids. It’s Cayden at different ages in his life, facing horrid things at the hands of our fathers. I don’t care if the world thinks he’s a demon. He’s been better to me than they ever were.
I abruptly spin around, locking my arm around his torso and twining our legs together. He doesn’t say anything as his hands come around me, one settling on my back and the other gliding through my hair. I rest my ear over his heart, taking comfort in the steady beating that so many have tried to silence, letting it lull me to sleep like a lullaby that was never sung to me.
“Goodnight, demon.”
His lips press against my forehead. “Goodnight, mia sirantia.”
Chapter
Twenty-four
Cayden
I’ve watched Elowen flip throughone hundred and forty-seven pages of a book she’s clearly enthralled with. That her narrowed eyes have remained on me for the last fifty is a sure sign of enjoyment. I have no intention of stopping, and her stubborn nature prevents her from backing down. Here we remain, locked in a silent contest like we don’t have other important matters to attend to.
“How was your morning ride?”
“Fine.”
“And how’s the book, sirantia?”
She dramatically flips another page. “Riveting.”
“Are you going to continue answering me with only one word?”
“Perhaps.”
Her dragons were restless just before dawn, and she didn’t bother changing out of her slip before donningmycoat and a pair of her boots. They circled the property for the most part, and I watched them through the windows while reading the daily reports I receive to make sure nothing went wrong during the night. The servants brought breakfast into the sitting room in front of the bedchamber, and Elowen threw off the coat as soon as she saw pastries and coffee, collapsing on the couch.
She looks like something that crawled out of a desire-drenched dream, sent into reality to be my undoing. It’s a doom I’ll happilyaccept, whether it be delivered by her lips or the tip of her knife. She’s the only form of torture I’ll never hold up against. I haven’t stood a chance for months, too far gone to even try to deny the magnitude of the longing that pulses through my veins.
I place my elbows on my knees and lean forward, setting aside the sword I was sharpening. “Tell me about it.”
She considers this for a moment before flicking her mussed curls over her shoulder, drawing the already short hem up her thighs.Good gods.“I haven’t had enough coffee to merit a prolonged conversation with you.”
I shouldn’t love her attitude, but I adore it. If she were to stare at me with pity in her eyes after I revealed the details of my past, I’d find any excuse to leave the room, but this is exhilarating. Her defiance, the feeling of a challenge, all it does is make me want her more. I steeple my fingers in front of my lips to hide my grin despite my dimples giving it away and shamelessly drag my eyes along her reclined body.
She snaps the book shut and reaches forward to grab another strawberry puff, moaning as she bites into it. My gaze attaches to her lips as she licks some jam and powdered sugar off her fingers, dragging them along the plump surface. She hollows her cheeks and the image of her on her knees when she took me in her mouth causes my desire to amplify. She knows exactly what she’s doing and grins triumphantly. I’m aware I’m wretched in this life, but I must’ve been an abysmal prick in a previous one to deserve this.
“Marry me,” I state. “A week from today. Or sooner.”
“Say please.”
“Please marry me.”
