Page 42 of Dreams of Ash and Smoke

I sheath the blade and make it all the way to the stairs before Eryx catches up to me.

“I will see to it she is handled.” He speaks with anger.

“No need, I did it myself.”

He follows me all the way to my room and when I enter, instead of being able to slam the door shut, he places his hand there to stop it and welcomes himself in. I sigh from the motion.

“Verena.” He speaks again but I do not care to listen. I want to get the blood off of me. “Are you hurt?” He asks, noting the red covering my front.

“No.” My throat is a little scratchy from her grasp. She had a surprisingly strong grip but otherwise I am fine.

He approaches from behind, a presence I feel before his form comes into view. When he turns me to face him, our eyes lock in an intense gaze. “Look at me.” It’s a command—urgent and unwavering—but I surrender to itwillingly.

“I care for you,” he continues, his voice low and fervent. “I do not wish to see you dead. While Alyra lacks power, her father certainly does not. I will speak to him tonight.” He pauses, the weight of his words sinking in. “Alyra is jealous of you, and I’m relieved to see that she doesn’t get under your skin.”

His declaration sends a jolt through my body, leaving me momentarily frozen as the air becomes thick and suffocating. Our breaths come in heavy gasps from the frantic rush that brought us to my room; his eyes blaze with a mix of anger and a deep-seated longing that has been present since the night began.

Dare I take that leap?

My gaze drifts toward his lips, drawn to their softness despite my instinct compelling me to look back up into his darkened eyes. They glisten with allure, plump and inviting, igniting a fierce yearning within me. Oh gods, how desperately I want to kiss him.

This feeling is so abnormal to me. I thought I had feelings for Dryston but none compared to this, not even as young fae when our hormones are raging to balance out. Dryston wanted me, even seemed to have no problem manipulating me into it. I thought we’d marry, that he’d be my husband. We’d have babies and live our life full of love and respect.

I want to laugh at the thought.

My entire life turned upside down just a few short weeks ago and yet here I am trying to throw myself at the next King who shows me a lick of attention. I am so pathetic.

Will this ruin our deal? We are supposed to marry if it comes to it and people will expect this. We’re supposed to publicly show that we are growing feelings for each other but at this moment? We are alone… in my room… with me in a dress that leaves little to the imagination yet somehow is still regal.

I can’t do this. I won’t allow myself to blur these lines and assume he has feelings for me like I did with Dryston. It’ll hurt too much in the end when he no longer has use for me.

I take a step back but before I can get far, his hand flashes to the back of my neck, pulling me to him. My hands rest on his chest, prepared to push him away. That is, until his lips meet mine in a desperate plea.

Suddenly I am melting into his touch, my chest completely against his as our lips meld together.

His hand tightens it’s hold on the back of my neck while the other grips my waist, pulling me closer. My hands are clenched in his shirt, wrinkling the expensive fabric.

Heat flares within me, the unfamiliar feeling rising. My heart beats so hard I fear it’ll pulse out of my chest. His body radiates warmth and I want more.

I go to move my arms around his neck, pulling his face down closer to mine. We both pull tighter, and I can feel every inch of him.

I feel as if I’ve been lit on fire when he squeezes, eliciting a light moan to slip from my lips as he grazes the inside of my mouth with his tongue.Gods, his tongue. My knees want to give out but he holds me too him and I feel his hardened cock push against me.

When a deep, resonant groan rumbles from his throat, it takes every ounce of willpower in me not to collapse to my knees, utterly undone. A warm wave of something akin to magic unfurls within me, sending tingling sparks dancing through my veins as if a hidden energy is awakening and purring softly.

He kisses me with a delicious urgency, prompting a helpless whimper to escape my lips. In this moment, I am profoundly grateful for the delicate fabric of my dress; its thinness allows for every sensation to intensify.

His lips leave mine only momentarily, granting me a precious breath before he begins to trail soft kisses along my jawline, down to the sensitive spot just beneath my ear where his warm breath sends shivers cascading down my spine.

With a gentle yet commanding hand on my waist, he urges me forward, and I instinctively leap into his arms, wrapping my legs around him as I seek closer contact. My body writhes against him, full of longing; another moan escapes my throat as he finds that sweet spot, drawing forth soundsof pleasure that echo between us.

I crave him—every part of him—right here and right now.

A knock reverberates around the room, jolting us both apart from the sudden noise. I slip from his grasp, tumbling backwards. Pants of air leave me as I adjust my dress and lightly touch my fingers to my lips, the scene replaying over and over. I stare at the ground, unable to remember why we stopped.

“Verena? Are you awake?” Ruelle’s voice cuts through the sudden chill I have now that Eryx is several feet away from me. My eyes meet his, still darkened from our moment. I take note his fingers tracing his hip, a confusing look through his eyes, while his other hand adjusts himself in his pants and now I can’t stop wondering what he’d feel like between my legs.

Ruelle’s footsteps retreat and I release a shaky breath.

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