Page 36 of The Queen & the King

I tense. The word is spoken so softly I wonder if I imagined it. I slowly lower my arm from my face. Persephone’s smile has died, her face solemn.

“What did you say?”

Remember.

My voice must break the fragile spell on her, and her eyes clear. “Sorry, what did you say?” She smiles at me, but a tear slides down her cheek.

She knows.Somewhere inside her, Persephone knows what she’s lost. I sit up, wiping the tear from her cheek. She touches my lips, noting the way I’m frowning at her. I try to smile for her, kissing her fingers.

“Just missing things… like you are.”

Her eyes drop along with her hand. “Your queen?”

No, don’t pull away. Please.

“The things we’re missing, Persephone,” I whisper desperately, “they’re so similar, aren’t they?”

She frowns and shrugs. “I guess.”

Fuck, I want to tear my hair out. It’s so close, I can see it just out of reach, but something is stopping her. The sound of her pain when I push the limits of her memory is devastating. I don’t know how far I can go before she breaks.

“Would you like to go on a date with me?” I ask suddenly, scanning her face.

She blinks in surprise. “Yes.”

I smile a bit wider and lean forward to kiss her softly. A brush of our lips, so fleeting in the dream. I don’t feel any warmth or lingering taste of her tongue, only an echo, a memory, to remind me of what I’ve lost and what I’m fighting like hell to regain.

She smiles against my lips. “But… my mother.”

Yes. Her mother. She made a mistake announcing the courtship in the paper. In the process, she triggered that ancientPrimordial rule.Sloppy, Demeter.I doubt she realizes it. Not everyone enjoys looking into ancient laws and regulations. I’m pretty sure I might be the only one.

“I have a plan.”

I barely get the words out before she slams her lips to mine, taking me down to the ground with force. I wrap my arm around her back, pulling her to straddle me. She looks down at me, her eyes dark with desire.

“I need you,” I growl.

She bites my lip, her fingers tunneling into my hair.

“I want you,” I whisper into her mouth.

“But, I can’t feel you…”

The words shatter the small spell we’re under, and she rolls off me. I sigh as I sit up, and she grazes her fingertips down my arm, the memory of her touch providing what I can’t feel in the dream.

I watch her fingers. “It’s like a memory.”

Fuck, did I say that out loud?

Her eyes lock on mine. “What do you mean?”

I take her hand and flip it over, tracing my fingers along the lines. “You can almost feel my touch like you’re remembering what it feels like.”

“Remembering?”

I keep playing with her palm, willing the memories into her as if I can send them to her through my touch. “As if we’ve done this exact thing before.”

Her eyes leave mine, focusing on my hand playing with hers.

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