Page 116 of A War Apart

“It’s still early,” I said, wrapping my arms around her from behind. “We have a little while.”

She glanced at the light creeping into our tent. “Where will you be?”

“I’m going with the tsar.”

“With the tsar?” She stiffened, turning to look at me. “Into the city?” Fear filled her eyes.

I’d give anything to erase that fear. I stroked her cheek. “It’s no more dangerous than being in the battle.”

“You’re taking a dozen men into the palace to confront Miroslav directly,” she snapped. “How is that less dangerous than the battle?”

“I didn’t say ‘less dangerous,’ I said ‘no more dangerous.’” I sighed. “I don’t want to fight with you today, Mila.” I didn’t want to fight with her ever again. We’d done enough of that before she left. Now all I wanted was to keep her safe. “It’s dangerous, yes, but it has to be done.”

“But why you?”

“The tsar asked me to. He wants the Survivor of Barbezht with him when he takes the throne.”

“I thought you weren’t the only survivor,” she said, resting her head against my chest.

I raised a brow, looking down at her. “You’d prefer Yakov go?”

“I don’t want either of you to go. I just don’t understand why it has to be you. Why you’retheSurvivor of Barbezht.”

“I don’t know.” Somehow, in the few small battles I’d fought, my popularity had grown. My name—or at least my unofficial title—was spoken across the country, and while most of the rumors about me were entirely false, the tsar wanted to exploit my popularity among the unSanctioned.Your loyalty lends legitimacy to my claim, Han. The people see something of themselves in you. They’ll support who you support.

It discomfited me, taking on the mantle ofSurvivor of Barbezht,but the tsar insisted. I sighed. “I won’t be alone, Milochka. The tsar asked me to go, but we’ll have a dozen of our best soldiers and a dozen shadow-melding Drakra.”

“Just be careful.” She took a deep, shaky breath. “We should get ready.” She reached for the clean clothes someone had delivered to the tent overnight.

We? “Ready for what?”

“The battle. Isn’t the tsar expecting you?” She stripped off her old sarafan and replaced it with a new one as I tried to ignore the twitch of my cock. Now wasn’t the time or place to be lusting after my wife.

“Expectingme,yes, but you’re staying here.” I wasn’t risking her. She was going to be safe if I had to tie her to the tent pole to keep her here.

“Don’t be ridiculous.” She tied a belt around her waist. “I’m not trying to come with you. There’s plenty for me to do. I’m not sitting in the tent the whole time you’re gone.”

“It’s not safe. I need to keep you safe.” Here, in my tent in the center of camp, she’d be protected from any stray cannonballs or rogue soldiers. On the edge of the battlefield, tending to the wounded or transporting the dead, anything could happen. I’d almost lost her twice now. I wasn’t losing her again.

***

Mila

I could see by the stubborn set of his chin that he wasn’t going to give in on this. Han rarely made demands—at least the Han I’d married rarely did—but he’d changed in the past few months. I didn’t know if I could convince him to let me go.

But I did know that I could distract him. I cupped his face with my hands. “I’m not in any danger, Han.”

Before he could answer, I kissed him. He responded immediately, pulling me against his body. His tongue slid along my bottom lip, and his cock pressed against my stomach. A jolt of desire went straight to my center, followed by a hot flash of guilt.

Why did that feel so wrong? He was myhusband,by the Blood. I grabbed fistfuls of his shirt and straddled him.

He moaned, grinding against me. “I want you, Mila. I need you.”

I needed him—needed this—too. I tugged my skirts upward, trying to remove some of the fabric between us. Han, thankfully, wore only his long shirt. He pulled it up, then grab me by the hips and slid inside me.

I wasn’t ready; his entry stung, but he slid his hand between us, massaging my bud.

“You’re so tight,” he groaned, burying himself deeper as I grew wet. Not deep enough. Not hard enough.

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