Page 52 of Wings of Cruelty and Flame

“Oh? And what sort of danger could I cause with words?”

“The danger of falling in love with you.”

His hands flexed on my back, his face tipped up to meet mine, and then we were kissing again, the knife-edge of desire softened for a moment. Our lips traded gentle touches, kisses lingering, breaths shared.

“You’re not the only one in danger, dearling.” He caught one of my hands, removed my stained glove, and pressed a kiss to my palm. “You took care of my wyvern, unprompted and unasked.I’m starting to suspect your heart is every bit as beautiful as your face, and if that’s true, loving you is inevitable. I’m in serious danger.”

My chest warmed, a weight I wasn’t aware I was carrying sliding from my shoulders until I breathed easier. Every time he touched my bare hands, it was both a shock and a delight. “I only did what anyone would do. I worried about Mak while you were both gone.”

He groaned. “Stop. I’m ingravedanger.”

“Because I have a kind heart?”

“Kindness is sexy,” he agreed, kissing me again, slow and slick and deep, only stopping when my head spun and I gasped for air. “And you’re the first woman Mak’s taken a liking to.”

My head stopped spinning in a second, like magic. I narrowed my eyes. Slowly, I asked, “How many women have there been before me?”

“Why?” Varidian’s smile was too smug for my liking. “Are you going to hunt them down and murder them for laying hands on me?”

“Theylaid handson you?”

Varidian groaned. “Fuck, I love it when you’re possessive of me.” He pulled me close again and kissed me hard, cool hands sliding under the hem of my dress, sending goosebumps up my body when he squeezed my bare thighs. “But you don’t need to be. I’m loyal to my dangerous wife.”

His words were a balm, but deep down I still wanted to threaten everyone else, with graphic intensity, until they were terrified to be near him. Varidian’s grin grew, his hands bolder as they slid up my thighs, squeezing, stroking. If he teased and denied me what I really needed, I was going to killhim.To prevent such outcomes, I grabbed the hem of my cotton dress and pulled it over my head, baring myself to his stare.

Varidian groaned, his eyes a shade darker as they devoured the sight of me, drawn to my breasts, my thighs, and the V between them that barely hid my pussy. There was only leather between his cock and me now, and nothing at all between my body and his hands. They slid up my thighs to my waist, possessive in their firm grip, then skimmed my ribs, teasing the outside of my breasts with a barely-there touch.

“Fuck, Ameirah,” he whispered. “You’re even more beautiful than I remembered.”

Pleased heat flooded me. “You thought about my body?”

“Many, many times. It kept me warm when the storm wanted to freeze me. But you’re much more glorious than I ever pictured.” His lips found my shoulder first, my skin tingling under their heat and pressure. “I—when did you get this bruise, dearling?”

His voice had been low and smoky but now it turned as soft as feathers. I’d forgotten about the bruises and scars. Days away from Strava, from my father and Xiu and my brothers, had been a dream, a whirlwind of kindness and care and sweet words. Now, I came back to reality like someone had thrown a bucket of ice water over me.

“My legion didn’t do this,” Varidian said, steel entering his voice, like he knew they wouldn’t have but he was ready to break their noses if I told him otherwise.

“No, they’re a week old. Weeks, even.”

A low, growling breath expelled from my husband, like a wyvern about to charge. His hands remained as soft as water on my skin but pure murder chased across his brown face. Now that he was looking at me, seeing more than just my shape, my curves, my breasts, I watched him follow the path of scars.

The bruises were sparse, only a few leftover from Beni’s temper tantrum earlier in the week, but I carried scars on my arms, my legs, my stomach, my back, even on my toes where acane had broken skin after so many lashes that I’d lost count. Emir and Nezar had held me down for that and not let go even when I screamed and begged. They wouldn’t give mercy to a killer, and especially not one who murdered their baby sister.

“Who?”

One word, spoken so deep and furious that it was barely audible.

There was murder in that voice. There was wyvernfyre and the sharp edge of swords and the merciless tips of talons in that voice.

Varidian’s eyes flashed, his chest expanding with a rough breath. “Who did this to you, Ameirah?”

“My brothers,” I sighed. “Some are from my father.”

He bared sharp canines. “They’redead.”

“I killed Shazia,” I reminded him, fighting a flinch at her name, at the forever-sharp memories. “I killed my little sister. You can’t blame them for being angry.” I understood their anger; I shared it.

“I can blame them for doingthisto my wife,” Varidian disagreed in a growl. “I’ll fucking end them.”

---