Page 115 of Heat of the Everflame

This felt like a decision made. Like Luther was closing a door. On us. Onme.

The thought sat heavy on my heart as I towel-dried my hair and slipped into the clean clothes he’d set out. The lingering burn of his rejection was tempered by the powerful confessions he’d just made.

There is no place in all of existence I would rather be than between your legs, and there’s no part of you I do not long to consume. With my eyes. With my hands. With my mouth.

I pressed a finger to my lips, still swollen from his kiss. How could he feel so strongly and still turn me away? Did he somehow believe he wasn’t worthy? Because if so, I wouldhappily persuade him otherwise. Preferably with my own eyes, hands, and mouth.

But what ifIwas the one unworthy ofhim?What if my mistakes as Queen had left him regretting his decision to support me, but he cared for me too much to admit it to my face?

Stop, I scolded myself.You doubted him before, and you swore never to do it again.

Every time Luther had done something I didn’t understand, it had always come down to him protecting me in some way. If he was holding back, there had to be some threat he didn’t want to reveal, and though it pricked my temper to know he was keeping secrets to protect me again, I had no right to be upset when I still harbored secrets of my own.

If I wanted to be a good Queen, I needed to lead by example. I would have to come clean to him, toallof them, and pray I could earn back their trust.

I took a deep breath and stalked out of the bedchamber, into the center of the main parlor, facing the three Corbois cousins with arms crossed.

“We need to talk.”

Alixe and Taran looked up at me in surprise. They were both lounging on a couch, Alixe nibbling on a bowl of dried fruits while Taran twirled a thin, dark blade between his fingers.

Luther stood by the fireplace, a tumbler of amber liquid in his hand, staring into the flames with that same hollow, uncaring expression.

“Look, Queenie,” Taran said, grinning. “My magic’s back again.”

I looked closer at the weapon in his hand. The edges swirled with the telltale sign of a shadow-crafted blade. He twitched a finger and it grew in size to a small axe, which he precariously balanced upright in the palm of his hand.

“Luther’s is, too,” I said.

Taran and I both looked his way. Luther swirled his glass silently. Taran glanced back at me, raising an eyebrow.

“Mine returned for a moment while we were in the markets,” Alixe added.

“It seems to be happening more frequently,” I said.

She nodded. “And it’s not just happening to us. We overheard a couple from Meros say it’s going on there, too, and a Descended from Sophos bragged that he was using magic without paying his tithe to the Umbros Queen.”

“Have you ever heard of this happening before?”

“Never,” Luther mumbled.

“Care to elaborate?” I asked, a bit testily.

The silence stretched on. He took a long sip from his glass, and Alixe and Taran shared a look.

I glowered and poured myself a glass of whiskey, then slammed it back in a single gulp. Taran whistled low.

“Did something happen while we were gone?” Alixe asked carefully.

“Yes,” I said, just as Luther answered, “No.”

Taran leaned over to Alixe. “Mom and Dad are fighting,” he whispered loudly.

“This—” I gestured to the four of us. “—isn’t working. We’re all arguing, keeping secrets, not trusting each other. We can’t keep going like this.”

“Don’t look at me,” Taran said. “I’m not keeping any secrets. I trusted all of you, and look where it got me.”

A stab of guilt needled at me. “You’re right.”

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