Page 27 of Dance with the Dragon Duke

Her hand on his arm skated across his chest, and his heart jumped. She planted her palm on his breast and stared up at him with such earnest affection, he felt pulled apart by it, penetrated and seen until he was held together by the worn seams of his aged formal wear. At any moment, one of those seams could pop.

“You seem so very sad now, Dark,” she whispered. “I don’t like it at all. I want to squeeze it right out of you.” A line deepened between her brows. “Do you think you need some sort of redemption after all that?”

Dark fidgeted under her probing stare. “IknowI do,” he confessed.

“Look at me, Dark,” she said sternly, and his gaze snapped to hers. “That’s absolute rubbish. I won’t claim that I’m some historical expert by any means, but even the Seelie who would love nothing more than to be unfair toward your kind holdsyouand your queen responsible for finally bringing an end to that dreadful first war.”

His next breath tasted like ash. “I’m the Duke of the Dead, Tomorrow. My home is a tombstone.”

“Iexist,” she said, fierceness burning in her sunrise eyes. “I exist and have a home because you stopped your father.”

“I betrayed my own kind when I sent my warriors intentionally late to that final battle at Bloodmire and—”

The hand on his breast knotted into a fist, twisting his shirt. “Andyou saved an entire race of people from annihilation by a tyrant.”

His teeth came together. A muscle ticked in his jaw, bitter grief freeing an old anger he’d buried deep where he’d hoped to never find it again. “In retribution, my father slaughtered everyone I’d ever loved. He used his wicked magic to turn me into a runt and held me captive in his hoard to keep my powerful sister in line for centuries.”

Horror rounded her eyes, and her hand fell from his chest. That pull of connection dulled between them. He worked his throat, unable to think of anything to salvage the moment. The silence deepened until the rush of blood in his ears was all he could hear.

He’d ruined her fun, stolen a drop of her sunlight. Dark wanted to go back to their game and put the terrors of the past behind them. “Tomorrow, try to guess—”

She threw her arms around him, squeezing his middle with a strength her frail body shouldn’t have possessed, squeezing the air from his lungs. Connection burned through him, as hot and sure as dragon fire. Surrounded by her sweetness, her scent of almonds and citrus banished the ash from his nostrils.

“You wish you could change things,” she said into his shirt, her cheek pressed against his waistcoat. “We always wish we could change terrible things, but it’s not our fault that we don’t have the foresight to manage it. Only the divines have that. So why not blame them and be done with it?”

Dark maneuvered an arm out from her embrace. He held it over her head, uncertain what to do with it. A part of him wished to grip her tight, embrace the tenderness she offered and never let her go. But his eyes welled, and his throat was hot enough to burn, and he couldn’t think of the right words to express what it meant to have someone find no fault in him over the things that haunted him most. How did a person as kind as Tomorrow look upon him, know what he’d done, and not see a terrible monster?

He laid a hand in her hair. Briefly, he knotted his fingers in the strands before he simply let them rest there, molding to the curve of her scalp. He let her hold him, basking in her sunlight.

“Tomorrow,” he said, after the rock finally left his throat, “you were trying to guess which treasure is my favorite.”

She let him go. He immediately felt the loss of her, and his throat stung.

Tomorrow considered both of his treasures, tapping her chin, her head on a swivel between the gilded telescope and the diamond tree. “I’m so tempted to guess your telescope is your favorite because you love stars so much. But . . .” She rubbed at her pursed lips. “Tell me more about this incredible tree.”

“They’re extraordinarily rare,” he offered, folding his arms over his middle to replace the lost pressure of her body. It had been a while since he’d taken the time to enjoy either treasure. “Hell trees flourish in heat. They’re grown by blood magic users south of the Hell Mountains, not far from Rasika and the great lake of fire. Demons use them as bait to lure unsuspecting mortals. Then they feed on the treasure hunters, syphoning their life force.”

“Fascinating.” Tomorrow chewed on her cheek, struggling to come to a conclusion. After a moment, she spun to face him fully. “I’ve decided.”

She was smiling at him again, dammit. Tomorrow was honey incarnate, sweet as Rasika berry pie, as brilliant as fucking star fire.

He knew in that moment that her guess would be wrong. Perhaps before she’d come inside, she could select one of those two things at the top of his beloved tower and she’d have been right that they were his favorite, his most treasured item. But not anymore. Right now, his favorite treasure in his hoard was her.

And he almost told her so.

She pointed at the telescope. “I pick—”

Dark scooped her off her feet, into his arms, cutting her short.

“Oof. What are you doing?” Her legs kicked at the air in an endearing flurry of pale skin and satiny skirts.

Dark hugged her to his chest, his tail flicking at his back in an agitated fashion. Instinct turned his insides molten, and blood thundered in his ears.

“I’m getting you out of here,” he said through clenched teeth.

“What’s wrong?” she demanded, as he rushed her down the stairs. And then realization dawned, and her expression smoothed. She threaded her slender arms around his neck, bracing against him. “Ah, are you trying to get me out of here before you have to hoard me?”

“Stop talking,” he grumped.

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