Page 40 of Tempest of Wrath and Vengeance

He gave her a sharp smile. “My mistake.”

“Always such an ass,” she muttered, resuming her pacing.

And as she did, her power crept up her arms more and more, sparks of energy echoing each footstep.

“He’ll see too much if he’s here,” she murmured. “It’s distracting, but I want it. No, I hate it. We hate it. We can’t have the things we want. No happy endings. Purpose and destiny, then I can leave the dark forever. I can do this. This is my game and my storm. I don’t need them. Clever tempest. That’s what he calls me.”

“More like a temptress,” Luka muttered.

She whirled on him. “What did you just say?”

“You heard me,” he retorted. “You’re more akin to a wild temptress than a clever tempest.”

“How in the realm do you figure that?”

“Well, for one, you stormed into my room in that,” he replied with a pointed look at her attire.

She looked down at herself before crossing her arms tightly over her chest.

Which only served to push her breasts up.

“That didn’t help,” Luka said dryly.

She tsked under her breath, rolling her eyes, but her power had stilled its movement around her, as if it was waiting to see what she was going to do. Her eyes dropped to her attire again, and she plucked at the sash of the silk robe.

“Everything is white or cream or gold here,” she grumbled.

“Missing the dark, are you?”

“No,” she snapped.

He hummed in response before he said, “Go get some rest. Sleep on all of this, and we can talk in the morning when you are…calmer.”

“I can’t sleep,” she retorted. “There is no resting or peace. Not since?—”

Her mouth pressed into a thin line, and she started pacing again, her magic immediately resuming its movements too.

With a sigh, he went into the closet. There was plenty of clothing in here, but he certainly would not be wearing the provided garments in whites and light greys and creams. She wasn’t wrong about everything being those colors. He’d Travel to Rockmoor tomorrow and pick up other options, but he did have the clothing he’d been wearing earlier today.

Snatching the black button-down shirt from the hamper, he went back out to the bedroom, where he tossed it at her. With a startled gasp, she caught it, but not before it hit her in the face.

“Is this his?” she demanded.

“Why would I have Theon’s shirt with me?”

“It smells like you,” she muttered to herself, holding the shirt away from her body and studying it.

“Take it with you, and?—”

But she’d already slid the robe down her arms and was reaching for the hem of her nightgown. It shouldn’t have surprised him. She’d never cared about modesty or nudity, but by the gods.

That was his mouth going dry at the sight of bare skin.

That was his cock already half-hard as she slipped his shirt on.

That was his power pushing at him to go take as she worked the buttons of the shirt.

That was his dragon growling‘mine’as his scent covered her.

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