Page 202 of The Dawn of the Cursed Queen

“What?” Samkiel asked. “He’d never work for her, serve her.”

My hand fisted in his shirt, and I tugged. “He might if he had no choice. I did it, remember?”

I felt Samkiel’s cool touch across my mind and emotions, easing the burn of the memories of who I had been and what I had done. It soothed the beast that lived beneath my skin, and I leaned into his caress.

Veruka went on. “He searches for the other member of The Hand.”

“Ah,” Samkiel nodded, “I see.”

Orym glanced between us, more relaxed now that the tension had mostly subsided. “Veruka came with a note. She knows the next place we need to strike.”

I turned in Samkiel’s embrace again, and he pulled my back to his chest, holding me close. I knew we both needed the comfort and held tight to his forearm where it crossed my breasts. “Okay, and this time, you decided to show and tell?”

Veruka nodded. “Yes, because they will label me a traitor after this.”

SAMKIEL STOOD IN FRONT OF THE MIRROR AND TIPPED HIS HEAD, cleaning up the hair across his chin and along his hairline. He edged it shorter, not bothering to remake the marks I had shaved into his hair. At least now, when he removed his helmet, they wouldn’t automatically assume he was a part of The Eye. All they would see was a handsome soldier.

“Flirt.” He grinned at me as I sat on the bathroom sink.

I leaned back, admiring the flex of muscle across his broad chest and how the white towel wrapped low around his hips contrasted with his tanned skin. “Are you always in my head?”

He tapped the razor blade against the sink and ran it beneath the water. The rush of blue from the faucet was still new to me. The color reminded me of the ocean, but it was crisp and almost sweet. Samkiel said it was fed through the mountain or something, the minerals giving it the unique color and taste.

“No.” He smiled. “It’s easier to slip in when you think of me, and I, you. Plus, I only peek when your eyes do that thing.”

I tipped my head. “What thing?”

He just smiled before grabbing a small towel and wiping it under his chin and throat. He tossed it on the counter and stepped around me, keeping his distance after his shower. Veruka planned to wash my scent from his skin after our morning activities. She had said it would make sneaking into the war camp easier.

I jumped off the counter but waited for him to disappear into the closet before heading into the bedroom. I flopped onto the bed, my arms and legs spread out as I gazed at the canopy above. I heard the dresser drawers open and close as Samkiel rummaged for clothes. It was good he’d made us a bit of a wardrobe, even if I had bitched about him conserving his power.

“I’ll still be close by.”

I heard his soft chuckle. “Dianna, I will be fine, and you know you cannot leave that venue.”

I groaned, flipping onto my front. “I already hate this plan.”

I heard Samkiel’s footsteps and pushed up on my elbows just as he walked into the room. He was wearing the dark, fitted, long-sleeve shirt and pants he usually wore beneath his armor. I had a moment to appreciate how it molded to all my favorite parts before he flicked his ring, and his silver armor formed over his body. He removed the helmet and held it beneath his arm.

I propped my chin on my hand and dragged my gaze over him. “What time do we have to leave again?” I purred and bit my lower lip.

Samkiel chuckled and patted the bed before walking toward the door. “Come on, before I have to take another shower. You are much too tempting, akrai.”

I pouted but followed him out of our bedroom. As we walked down the hall toward his study, I glanced up at the tapestry hanging on the wall and the empty rectangular tables.

“I need to decorate this place, honestly.”

He chuckled. “We are preparing to infiltrate one of Nismera’s war camps, and you are worried about decorations?”

“Yes,” I said as he opened the door to the study. He waited for me to pass before walking in. Orym and Veruka were deep in conversation. I honestly had not seen Orym happier. His smile was wide and true, showing off his canines. Their tails thrashed almost in unison, and I wondered how long they had been separated. They stood as we entered, both wearing the gold armor of Nismera’s legion. I took a deep breath and released it, reminding myself they were not a threat.

Veruka’s eyes ran up and down Samkiel, not in a lustful way, but assessing.

“The silver is a dead giveaway. We will not be able to slip past security.”

“I am aware,” he said. He ran his thumb over his ring, and a flush of color crept over his armor. The silver turned gold, and a bit of tan cloth with Nismera’s war symbols draped from his hip. Two long, legless, winged beasts etched themselves into his breastplate, crisscrossing each other, forming a large X over his chest. The helmet under his arm was the last to change color, and I hated seeing her mark form in the metal.

“That is truly amazing, my king,” Veruka said, admiration clear in her voice.

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