Page 26 of A Shattered Kingdom of Steel

“Maybe for you,” I retort.

“Mmm, it is a gods-damned shame for me,” he drawls, his crystalline gaze capturing my own. He’s not touching me, but the heat of his icy eyes on mine makes me feel as though his hands are all over my body. “I would very much enjoy hearing you beg.”

I swallow. Whatever focus I have quickly slips away. If Ceren was here, she would scold me, but I’m too far gone to hear her lessons in my head.

“Would you?” My voice is a shell of what it was moments ago.

Asheros steps closer to me, closing the gap between us. Spruce and the scent of a coming storm grace my nostrils. “I would.”

A magnetic pull seems to thrum in the air that separates us, sparking a fire in my chest. And even though every fiber in my body is urging me to put it out, I can’t find the strength to do it.

“You’d have to make me.” My voice takes on a sultry quality—one I’m not used to hearing.

“Make you?” His expression darkens. “And how would I do that?”

“If I told you, you wouldn’t earn it.” I tilt my head up to his. “And we can’t have that.”

“Mm-hmm,” he agrees, subtly running his tongue across his lips, causing my breath to hitch in my throat. “No, we can’t.”

His gaze lingers on me, jaw tensing like he’s restraining himself from touching me. He doesn’t move. The heat of his body warms mine, and I almost let myself imagine what it would be like to grab him by the collar and drag his mouth down to mine.

Focus, Lymseia. This is the male that captured you. The male that ordered your guards to be killed. My mate, or my murderer. I can’t keep allowing his charms to slip past my defenses.

Not if I want to protect Inatia.

Clearing my throat, I turn my face. “I’m going to sleep.”

Asheros nods, but the tension in his jaw doesn’t fade. “Me as well.”

An awkward silence falls around us. I press my lips together, and make for the bedroll on the right, lying as far from him as the rope tying us together allows. I consider asking him to remove my bindings, but after my last escape attempt, I’m fairly certain I know how that would go.

After a while, he lies down beside me on the other bedroll. He rests on his back, and because of the rope binding my wrists to his belt loop, I’m forced to lie on my side, facing him.

Shutting my eyes, I do my best to ignore his proximity.

What’s wrong with me?

I shouldn’t let myself get so distracted, or… relaxed. Asheros is a traitor, and my loyalties are to the crown and my kingdom. I should be doing my damnedest to gain his trust and learn who else is involved in his scheme, so I can deliver them to Viridian for judgment before they destroy the new Inatia we’re working so hard to build.

Then, I can return to my place at Court, to my duty as a diplomat. The voice of the High King and Queen of Inatia. A representative of the crown.

That is my place, now.

Apprehension closes around my throat.

Illnamoor is my place, now. Discussing politics and strategy among finely dressed nobles. Maintaining appearances. Playing nice. Compromising. Swallowing my pride to appease the nobles, even when I believe they’re being pig-headed.

A duty I never wanted.

Picking up a sword and fighting an opponent is so much easier than battling with words. Showing strength and inspiring my guards to follow me is so much easier than convincing nobles, who may have never seen combat, to ally with me.

But perhaps even in that, my sister would be the better choice.

“I expected more from you.”

How many times had I heard those words from my mother after my lessons, soured by her uncaring disappointment? How many times had I tried even harder, over and over, just to hear them again?

“I expected more from you.”

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