Page 48 of Threaded

Sebastian flashed her his easy smile, a flicker of something new in his eyes. “Well … now, we must bare ourselves before each other and the Goddess in order to complete the remainder of the ritual.”

Bare ourselves…

“And by ‘bare,’ you mean lose our clothing, don’t you.” The inflection to Mariah’s voice was flat, more a statement than a question—she already knew the answer just by the glimmering in Sebastian’s eyes. He nodded once before taking a small step back, the cool night breeze whirling into the gap between them.

“I’ll go first.” His voice was just barely deeper, rougher. “Then you. Then…we’ll sit. And from there, just follow my lead, and remember that no matter what, I’ve got you.”

She nodded her understanding, and her curiosity sharpened into something far hotter as Sebastian gripped the hem of his soft, white shirt, pulling it over his chest in a single smooth movement.

She suddenly realized that she hadn’t seen him—or any of her Armature—shirtless before. She’d thought that was a bit odd, considering how much they’d all trained together over the past week, and how quickly she’d always shed her tunic the moment her sweat began to stick the material uncomfortably to her skin.

Now, though, as she stared at him in the flickering candlelight, her musings became obsolete. Beneath his shirt, inked across his chest, just over his heart, was a tattoo …

Her Mark.

She stepped forward just as his hands dipped to the waistband of his pants, his hands freezing as he noticed her movement and the focus of her gaze. Sebastian remained as still as a statue as Mariah raised a hand up to the tattoo, her fingers lightly tracing the delicate, swirling Mark. It was circular in shape and abstract in design, but she couldn’t help but see something incredibly familiar in the curling lines and swooping pattern. The more she stared, the more she saw dark wings curled in a crescent, a tail tucked around itself, and a bowed head with flames leaping from an open maw. There was also a single, straight line cutting through the center of the Mark, its rigidity so at odds with the rest of the image.

She flicked her gaze back up to his, his hazel eyes dark and wide.

“It … it looks a lot like a dragon, doesn’t it?” Her voice was low and steady.

His own voice was rough, and he cleared his throat once before answering. “Yeah—yes. That’s what we’ve always thought, too. For a time, it made us wonder exactly what kind of queen we might one day find ourselves bound to.” He reached his own hand up now, brushing a wisp of her dark hair away from her cheek. “After meeting you, though, I no longer wonder. I think it fits you perfectly.”

He withdrew his fingers, returning to the lacings of his trousers. Mariah forced herself to keep her eyes locked on his, his hazel gaze burning hotter than the flames that flickered in the candles around them. He bent slightly, removing what remained of his clothing, never once breaking her gaze.

And despite the temptation, she didn’t either.

After a moment of silence, Sebastian loosened a slightly shuddering breath. “Now— ”

“I want you to do it,” she interrupted him suddenly, her voice husky. “I want you to undress me.” The hint of a smile tugged at her lips.

She still knew this might hurt him. But this was a game she’d played many times in her life, a game she’d gotten quite good at.

And despite how much had changed … she had not. Not yet.

Sebastian froze, watching her carefully, before nodding slowly, the gold in his gaze smoldering brighter. Without another word, he gripped her shoulders, gently turning her body so her back was facing him. She now looked out over the candles, past the edge of the balcony, at the Attlehon Mountains beyond. Her breath hitched in her throat as she felt his fingers trail lightly down her arms, goosebumps rising in their wake. She felt his hands grip the hem of her maroon sweater, and in one smooth movement he lifted it over her head, her arms rising with the soft material until it was freed from her body. She heard him turn and toss it aside, outside the candlelight circle, before his hands were on her again, resting on her shoulders and sliding down her upper back. She felt his fingers brush aside the length of her dark hair, pushing it over her right shoulder, his deft fingers quickly undoing the clasp of the lace brassiere she wore with a softsnap. The material fell forward, the breeze brushing over her exposed and sensitive skin, and she held back a shiver.

Then his hands were back on her skin, and her breath caught in her throat as they traveled down her sides, over the curve of her waist and hips, not stopping until they reached the hem of her own cotton leggings. Mariah felt him kneel behind her, hooking his thumbs into the waistband as he pulled down in one smooth motion, taking the silk underwear she wore with them.

And suddenly, she was fully bared before both Sebastian and the Goddess burning in that golden moon in the night sky above them.

Sebastian rose from where he knelt behind her, and she sucked in a breath when she felt his hands again on her shoulders, turning her back to face him. His eyes now smoldered like embers, and the wind whistled off the mountains as they stood there, chest to chest, drinking each other in for several heartbeats.

Sebastian broke the moment first. He leaned in to her, taking one more step closer, his forehead dropping to touch hers as he held her stare.

“You are … so beautiful.” His voice dropped another octave, and he brushed a featherlight kiss to her cheek. She told herself she wasn’t one for sweet gestures, but she also couldn’t stop the rush of warmth and heat that swept through her at his words. She took her own step closer to him and became suddenlyveryaware of the hard length of him now pressed against the skin of her stomach.

That contact had him pulling back, just slightly, just enough to meet her gaze as the glow in his eyes dimmed, as if caged by his waning self-control. He stared at her intently, reading her face for whatever she might be thinking.

And what am I thinking?

She couldn’t even begin to guess.

“I want you to know,” Sebastian started, his voice still low, rough. “That nothing—and I meannothing—you do tonight could disappoint me. However far you want to go is how far we’ll go. And I’ll be eternally happy in whatever role you ultimately assign me to in your life, whether that be as friends, or … lovers, or even a mixture of both.” He gripped her hand in his, eyes dropping to their twined fingers. “I just … need you to know that. Before we continue.”

Tears threatened at the back of Mariah’s eyes. This man … she could hardly believe he was real, that he existed in her world.

That voice filtered in through her subconscious.

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