Page 77 of The Blood Crown

When she finally opened her eyes, there was pride flashing in Ven’s gaze.

Translucent wisps of shadow curled around her hand, more gathering as they bled across the floor toward her. Nothing as menacing as what Ven could conjure, but they answeredher.

Ven lifted his hand from beneath hers, his long, elegant fingers pulling deep black pools of night toward them, his shadows twisting and entwining with the pale gray wisps of hers—until they were indistinguishable from each other.

Chapter 37

Aurelia had lost all sense of time in that small paradise with Ven, but with the promise of a scalding bath, his shadows wrapped around them, bringing them back to that familiar stretch of corridor, just beyond the threshold of his chambers.

He carried her into his room, kicking the door shut behind them with a bare foot.

She’d only managed to get him to agree to put on pants. And only at the concession that she didn’t put onanyof her clothes as he cast them back to his rooms, cloaked in the satin midnight of his shadows and nothing more.

Tendrils of steam rose up to the high ceiling of the bathing chamber as Aurelia closed her eyes and savored the gentle rise and fall of his chest against her back, his muscled thighs on either side of where she sat in his lap in the deep stone tub.

He cupped warm water in his hands, trailing it across her shoulders and washing away the grit of the spring, lifting to trace the vein along her neck, still blissfully tender from his earlier attentions.

The hours they’d spend together hadn’t been nearly enough for her to prove to him that she wanted him—but she had the rest of her life to tell him, to show him.

“The ceremony you spoke of,” she whispered over the billowing steam, “a blood oath taken before witnesses . . .”

She felt his breath hitch behind her as his hand stilled.

Turning to face him, she placed a palm against his hard chest. “I love you” she murmured, feeling his body relax, as if he hadn’t been certain of her feelings for him even now.

Pulling away, he swallowed hard, a sober look on his face as his eyes darkened. “You would claim me?” he finally whispered. “Before our friends? Before this court?” His voice broke, crimson eyes sparkling with emotion as they searched hers. “Will you bind yourself to me—of your own volition?”

She could see that he fought the urge to look away—as if she might refuse him. As if there was ever a future where he did not belong to her and she to him.

“Yes.”

A tear slipped down his cheek as he kissed her.

“I love you,” he whispered against her lips, the devotion in his voice bleeding into desire.

His hand dipped below the surface of the water, fingertips slipping between her thighs as she gave into him with a breathless sigh.

The water had gone tepid when they finally emerged from the bathing chamber.

Aurelia toweled off her damp hair, pausing as she crossed the doorway back into Ven’s bedchamber.

Midday leaked through the arched dome of windows, gilding everything as it cascaded down the bookshelves and onto the dark stone floor, emblazoning the veins of gold and bronze.

Warmth flooded the space from the large fireplace in the corner, crackling softly. Two familiar overstuffed leather armchairs sat on the rug in front of the hearth. The large bed was made, but everything else remained just as they’d left it. Oiled blades—discarded and gleaming on the desk tucked into the corner. Haphazard stacks of books lining the shelves on the wall—tidy, if not a little disorganized.

The picture before her was so ordinary, so mundane, but her eyes soaked in every detail of the room that she’d missed so desperately. The broken-in chairs and the full bookshelves.

But it had nevertrulybeen hers.

Ven tugged on a pair of low-slung pants behind her. He leaned against the doorframe of the adjoining bathroom, hooking a bare foot across his ankle as his gaze followed hers.

She was still a stranger to most of the customs here, if couples kept their own private chambers as the nobility did in the Capitol or if they shared space, she couldn’t be certain. So much had changed between them since they’d left this place that maybe Ven would appreciate some space to call his own.

The chambers down the hall suited her well enough . . .

She turned to leave, but Ven reached out, capturing her wrist between his fingers. “If you think I’m letting you out of my sight for even a second . . .” His gaze slid to hers. “Stay—here. With me." He pulled her closer. "These chambers are as much yours as they were ever mine—and now . . . they could only ever belong to you.”

The offer split something open that she’d desperately tried to suture shut since she’d left this place months ago . . . a tear escaping as Ven wrapped his large hand around hers, brushing a kiss across her knuckles.

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