Page 38 of The Kingdom of Flames

It shames me to lust for this one so.

"No.”

Silas regarded her, eyes sparkling with surprised amusement. “I see why he covets you so. I was sure he would have paid a kingdom for you, but he denied me. He said you will come to him.”

“Encarmine will come for me.”

“That is not of whom I speak. I was interested in what he would pay, but I’m not sure I could give you to him. I wouldn’t subject anyone to his realm. He shapes it for you. I think he always has.”

“Of whom do you speak?” Celestine asked. Her mind wandered to that dark throne in Calendar.

Silas leaned forward, so close to her now. “Surely your lips should touch another before they are wed forever?”

Celestine looked aside at him, to the tower now flying with Vermilion’s banners. An effrontery, a sick invasive species in this beautiful and proud land.

“Encarmine needs time,” Silas reminded her.

“I said no.”

The rogue smiled down at her. “Did you?”

Stop staring at me with those eyes. You’re like every stranger coming to town, grinning in a tavern, making women forget their vows and slip their keys into their hands. She had heard and seen some men like this. They simply had it. That thing that would make you forget how much you loved your husband. Your children. For a single evening. Temptation on two lean legs, smiling at you.

“Let us delay him,” Lord Silas leaned forward, smiling, his lips close to hers.

Oh hells.

Celestine pulled away, but Silas didn’t let her. He stole the space between them. He stole her restraint, her strength. Her formation broke. His lips were the whisper that no one would have to know. The deep yearning to be needed, the taboo call to ruin yourself.

When Lord Silas kissed her, it was a kiss he stole and did not earn. Yet she found she did not resist as she thought she would. Not as much. His lips, his breath, his tongue upon hers were so illicit, so delicious and forbidden that she pushed him away, but he came closer, knowing her betrayed desire.

Their kiss broke.

Celestine stared at Lord Silas. Such impudence. Such audacity to come to Encarmine’s realm, to steal her away.

“Thief,” Celestine sneered.

Silas held her. She worried he would kiss her again. She worried she wanted him to.

“He hungers for you.” Silas’s silver eyes regarded her.

“Who?”

The rogue Lord smiled. “Silence is a friend that never betrays.”

“Unlike you.”

“Unlike me,” Lord Silas agreed. “Whomever you choose, Final Bride, know this. The thief knows better than anyone that nothing truly belongs to anyone. You may live in a grand castle or a battlement, bred and mounted or fed upon by any Lord in any Season. But allow me to creep into your window some evenings when you’re alone, like the moonlight on your body. Know that I will. All you ever have to do is unlock your window.”

Celestine straightened her dress and looked away. Their embrace breaking.

“I’d hold you to your word, Lord Silas. Of delay.”

“Oh, I am sure you will, Lady Celestine. In more ways than one.”

They waited, and Silas watched her for a long time as if debating something only to himself.

“I could take her from you.” Lord Vermilion stared down at Silas from his battlement.

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