Page 25 of A Shattered Kingdom of Steel

His face lights up with amusement, and his mouth parts into that wicked grin. “Don’t tempt me, Bladesinger.”

“Urgh!” I tug at my restraints when what I really want to do is knee him in the crotch. Ruse be dammed.

Asheros chuckles.

“As soon as I’m free, I’m going to slap you.”

“So you’ve said. As long as it’s your hands touching my pretty face, Bladesinger,” Asheros purrs, “you can do whatever you’d like.”

I grit my teeth. Now, I do want my hands on his face.

But not to slap him.

I groan in frustration. How can this male wield my own aggression against me and do it so seductively?

With the tents pitched, Asheros moves deeper into the camp, tugging me along with him. Resisting, I lean back and shift my weight to my heels.

He pulls at the rope again, this time, looking back at me over his shoulder. “Must you make this difficult?”

“You can’t honestly expect me to give in so easily.”

“Mmm, that is true,” he murmurs, glancing up like he’s considering my statement. “You will make me earn it, won’t you?”

My lips part for my breath. “Earn what?”

Asheros turns to face me, leaning forward to look into my eyes. His stare darkens, taking on a hungry, ravenous quality, and my lungs forget to work. “Everything,” he breathes.

I’m transfixed, seemingly unable to tear my gaze from his.

He shares my expression, that hungry look lingering on his face. His eyes drop to my lips.

I swallow.

Is he…?

Just when I think he might kiss me, Asheros leans back, gently tugging at the rope binding my wrists. This time, I obey and follow him where he leads.

I don’t notice Gryska or Ronan, which tells me they must have retired for the night. On the way to their tents, Savell and Kheldryn mutter their “goodnights” to one another. When we cross paths with them, Asheros dips his head to Savell and smiles at Kheldryn, wishing her a goodnight.

She tilts her head down a little, tucking her shiny, white hair behind her ear. “Goodnight.” Then she glances at me. “Both of you.”

I flash her a tight-lipped smile. Asheros nods, and then we step into our tent.

Our tent?

My brows knit together.

His tent. There is no our tent.

I let out a huff. It’s become increasingly difficult to stay focused around Asheros. He’s a distraction. A hindrance to my duty and mission to unravel his plans. One I don’t care for, any more than the rope tying my hands.

Asheros kneels and unfurls a bedroll on the right side of the tent with one hand. He stands, grasps another bedroll, and then spreads the second bedroll next to the first.

Either he notices my distaste, or he already expects it, because he turns around to face me. “Relax, Bladesinger.” A self-assured smirk plays at his mouth. “I won’t cuddle with you unless you beg me.”

I glower at him. “I don’t beg.”

“That’s quite a shame, isn’t it?”

---