Page 57 of Aubade Rising

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I ponder his words as we make our way through to the garden, trying to reconcile the King’s cold anger with the possibility that he might support our efforts publicly. As we cross the stone bridge, my hand brushes the back of his and I shiver. It may not be the time for distractions, but I can’t help admire the dusky light reflecting off his dark hair. He’s not mentioned the greenhouse since we arrived back in the city but the memory of that humid afternoon brings out goosebumps on my skin.

“You’re cold?” He turns, frowning when he sees me shiver.

I shake my head, warmth creeping into my cheeks and I avoid his gaze. Instead, I focus on making my hands move, summoning magic to me. Eyes closing, I bask in the dying warmth of the day – anything to avoid addressing the kindling heat growing between us.

Night draws in and the songbirds fall quiet. The scent of blooming night phlox creeps around us and, when I open my eyes, Eskar is watching me like a predator from his seat on a smooth boulder near the water.

He stands, muscles moving under his shirt and my mouth dries. I refuse to concede any ground to him as he stalks towards me. His fingertips trace from the inside of my wrist to my shoulder. “Tell me what you want, Sage.” His voice is a caress down my spine and I take a shuddering breath.

“I want to forget. About the King, Haelyn, the palace, all of it.”

“I thought so.” His hand falls alongside the breath I didn’t realise I was holding. Wrong answer? I search his gaze, catching a fleeting look of something close to disappointment before he curls his lips into that insufferable smirk that used to drive me wild with irritation. Now it has me wanting to see more of it. After the tunnels in the Haag, I’ll take his smirk, his smile, his laughter, anything to erase the lingering memory of his beaten and bloody body.

Something in me cracks at the thought of him enduring any more suffering and tears well beneath my eyelids. I look away, blinking to convince them not to fall. Eskar reaches out and turns my face to his.

“Low blow with the tears.” His thumb brushes them away and he pulls me against his chest. I feel the press of his lips against my hair. Hidden in his embrace, I focus on taking deep breaths. We’re safe. We escaped. Eskar continues to kiss my hair, my forehead, his hands run up and down my spine. My hands trail up his back, finally exploring the shoulders I’ve glimpsed thebreadth of for months now. He tenses as my hands explore, but his lips continue to press to my temple and progress towards my neck. Without thinking, I turn my head away so as not to interrupt his progress, elongating my neck and baring it towards the gentle pressure of his lips.

Eskar groans and I feel its rumble deep within his chest. “Tell me what you need.” He murmurs, face buried in my hair.

“I need you to make me forget.”

“Close enough.” He tilts my head, capturing my mouth in a deep kiss. My hands grip his shoulders, eliminating any space between us. His palms cradle my cheeks, angling my face to his while his tongue teases my lips apart. My whole body is enveloped by his larger frame and yet I need more. I need him closer. My fingers wrap round the thick strands of his hair, only just long enough to grasp. Eskar responds by deepening the kiss, teasing my tongue with persistent strokes, increasing in urgency. He pulls us backwards and twists, lowering me slowly to the smooth rock below. Its warmth seeps through my clothes and is mirrored by the heat I feel from his body. My hands move from his hair and slip underneath his shirt, roaming across the hard planes of his stomach and up his chest. He breaks the kiss, nipping my lower lip gently.

“Careful, my restraint only stretches so far.” A dangerous glint sparkles in his eyes as he presses against me. I can feel how much he wants this. How much he wants me. My hands curl round his neck, pulling him back into the kiss, losing myself in the feel of his lips on mine.

Eskar’s hands tease along the curve of my hip, towards my breasts. He breaks our kiss, eyes questioning. I smile and nod, desperate for him to continue. He doesn’t move until my hands tease at the belt on his hips. A feral grin appears and my hands are captured, pinned by rings of water. He backs off, one hand unbuckling his belt while the other pulls his shirt over his head,baring his muscled chest at last. Wrists pinned, my eyes rake over his body, drinking in the dips and hard lines. I like what I see and pull at his restraints, needing to ease the growing heat.

“I hope I’m not interrupting anything… important,” a rich, deep voice calls through the wooded glen.

We freeze, ice drips down my spine and the King steps out of the darkness.

Eskar groans loudly into my shoulder, moving so he’s shielding me from the King’s gaze while I straighten my clothes. The heat that surrounded us both just moments ago extinguishes at the unwelcome interruption.

“Verax, I need you.” Eskar straightens at the command and his eyes grow cold and hard, the mask of King’s torturer and truth-seeker settles over his face. He turns from me, all passion and tenderness extinguished. Panic closes around me when I remember who the King has locked in the dungeons. The person he plans to command Eskar to extract information from.

“No!” my shout echoes off the leafy canopy, birds scattering, screeching into the night sky. The King can’t ask Eskar to hurt Haelyn. “You promised you wouldn’t hurt her. You said you would do it yourself.”

“Sage, stop. He’s the King,” Eskar interrupts.

“I need answers; we’re running out of time.” The King’s hands are buried deep in his pockets, his shoulders tense. “If she won’t talk then I have no way of knowing what she did.” He dismisses me and gestures for Eskar to follow him.

“Then let me speak to her,” I plead. “You can listen and no one needs to get hurt.” I glare at Eskar to keep quiet; he has to know I’m fighting for him here too.

The pause stretches. The King’s face is blurred by the shadows but Eskar’s is rigid, mask still in place.

“Very well. You have one chance.” We move to follow the King from the garden, but he turns to Eskar, snapping, “It looks likeneither of us have need of you right now, Verax. You can remain here.” Eskar jolts, the verbal slap ricocheting hard across his body and my eyes are full of regret as I leave him behind in the garden, following the King to help Haelyn.

On the walk back to Chi An Mor my mind seethes, yet my body is still wired from Eskar’s kisses. The frustration of unfulfilled promise manifests as rage. The King must sense my growing anger because he pauses before entering the palace and turns, blocking my way forward. We linger outside the large doorway as the cold evening chill steals the heat from my skin. The palace is quiet: we’ve encountered no one else. The King hesitates briefly, casting his eyes up and down my face before he speaks. “I suppose it would be too much to expect you to be grateful after I spared the Verax on your behalf?”

“How dare you refuse to use his name after everything he’s done in yours.” I lean towards him but he stands firm.

“Seducing you in my private garden was not done with my name in mind.” His words are measured and cold, callous.

“That’s none of your business,” my cheeks redden.

“Neither is yours regarding my relationship with other Concord members.”

“But you grew up together. You used to be friends.”