Page 83 of A Court of Sugar and Spice
“You showed me your weakness today, and I comforted you. So you decided you want someone to pet your hair. You want someone around who will be strong when you’re weak. That’s the only reason you confessed your love.”
His lip curls. “So I am a careless, apathetic male who abandoned you tonight, a weak coward who only craves your strength. I’m a confused, traumatized victim, and a pompous king who doesn’t deign to share space with you.”
I hesitate, fists clenched, blood heating my face. “I—I don’t know. Maybe.”
“Maybe.” He takes a step toward me. “Or maybe I’m the Prince who, after speaking with his people, as a leader should do, tried to go to his own tent and found himself seeking yours instead. Maybe I’m someone who needs to be close to you—who will always crave your nearness, no matter which of us is being the strong one on a given day.”
He’s right in front of me now, his green eyes ensnaring mine. “Maybe I’m the male who has finally caved to his desire to fuck you, even if you’ll never agree to anything further between us. Maybe you’re trying to wound me because you’re afraid, like I was. Afraid of the connection we have.”
His voice takes on a thread of sweet desperation. “I am sorry for the things I’ve said to you since we met, Louisa. No matter what pain and confusion I felt, I had no right to cut into your heart with my words. I understand if you cannot forgive it. But I am asking one more time if you could love me, if you think you could choose me. If you do not, and you cannot, I will leave you alone. I won’t make any more confessions, or disturb you on this topic again.”
“It’s not that I want to reject you,” I whisper, shame coloring my cheeks. “But you’re right—I am afraid. Afraid this isn’t true, that you’ll come to yourself and realize I wasn’t the person you wanted. And I’m afraid of myself. I’m scared that one day I’ll grow bored and weary, and I’ll find someone to amuse myself with, and I’ll hurt you. That’s the last thing I want to do.”
“Loving someone is baring your heart to pain.” He cups my shoulders, rubbing them gently. “I understand that, and I accept it. If you choose me, and then later you tire of me, I will not hold you back from seeking your joy. But let me assure you, the Chosen bond provides the keenest pleasure known to my kind. I don’t believe you’d find anyone else satisfying once you’ve experienced it with me. That’s what I’ve heard, anyway.” He gives me a slow half-smile.
I suck in a quavering breath.
“You wanted me, tempted me,” he whispers. “You have me. Now it’s your decision. Choice is freedom.”
Those three words flame through my heart, a sudden, violent truth.
By choosing him, I’m not stepping into a cage.
I’m leaving one.
Because he is everything. He is all the longing I felt for years, all the things I was searching for. I found pieces of what I craved in so many different people—but with him it’s all there. And all of it is mine.
Out of every person in both of our realms, he wants me. The beauty of that knowledge is something that could never be painted, or tasted. It can only be felt.
“I do, and I can,” I whisper, looking up at him with a shy wonder I’ve never felt with anyone. “I love you, and I choose you.”
He closes his eyes briefly, inky lashes brushing his cheeks. Inhales slowly, while his fingers tighten on my shoulders. “Say it again.”
“I love you, Lirannon, and I choose you.”
“I choose you too,” he whispers. “My Louisa.”
Our lips meet, a trembling brush, a soft contact.
“It’s funny,” I murmur against his mouth. “All this time, I’ve been trying to seduce you—and now, I—I don’t know what to do. Sex has always been a game to me, Lir—a diversion. But with you, it’s different. I know it, I feel it. It means something. And that’s fucking terrifying.”
He laughs a little. “I’m terrified, too.”
“You are?”
“Immensely.” He kisses me again, lightly, quickly—once, twice, three times. Small tantalizing kisses that twist the breath in my lungs and tremble in my belly. The familiar fire ignites inside me—lust flaring at my core, twisting through my body—but it’s brighter, richer, more intense, because it’s blended with the searing truth of my real feelings for him.
“Lir.” His name on my lips is a fierce demand, and he obeys.
He seizes me. Hauls me against himself. My body thrums with frenzied heat—I think I might burn through my clothes.
I back away from him, fumbling with toggles and buttons, fighting my way out of all the layers of clothing I just put on, until I’m bare before him. I feel as if I’ve clawed away my skin and flesh as well, leaving my heart naked, thumping, and vulnerable.
He undresses more slowly, devouring me with his eyes like he did that night in Fin’s house, when I lay on the couch and played with myself in front of him.
“Lie down,” he says thickly. “And spread yourself for me.”
I want his touch so badly I’m shaking. But I obey, crawling onto the bed and laying down on my back, legs open.
