His hand slips between us, stroking me through the fabric of my cotehardie.
The gods help me!
I don’t want it to end, but I should make it end. This isn’t right. None of this is right, yet I want more.
“Yes,” I whisper, urging him on.
“Fuck!” he says through his teeth as he shoves my cotehardie up enough to touch my bare skin, to run his fingers up my thighs.
“Jasce.”
I freeze at the sound of Aleksander’s voice. Too close. Too abrupt.
Jasce stiffens and holds me against him as he turns enough to probably see his brother. “What do you want?”
“The scouts returned. You’re wanted in the throne room immediately.”
When Aleksander’s footfalls fade, Jasce turns back to me. I stare up at him, seeing the flame of desire still burning in his eyes.
He traces my jawline with his knuckles. “I have to go.”
“I know.” I try to muster a smile. It falls short.
He stares at me a moment longer before walking away. When he steps through the door into the palace, I slap my hands against my mouth.
The gods help me! How am I ever going to avoid this man?
I’m not. Not unless I find Mazaline. She holds the answers to what happened to me. I know she does.
Maybe then I could escape and return to my family.
Otherwise, I’m going to end up doing something very foolish.
* * *
That nightwhen Jasce joins me in bed, I pretend to be asleep. It’s cowardly, but I’m not ready to face him after I encouraged him earlier.
The mattress dips as he slides closer to me and brings me against him. I allow it, but keep my body stiff, refusing to melt against him.
“I know you’re awake,” he says, his tone raspy.
I raise my hand to my mouth, stifling the urge to speak.
He grips my hip and pulls me until I’m flush against him. His heat seeps through my thin nightdress as I bite the inside of my lip. It’s not enough to stave off the uncontrollable need burning in my center again.
How can he do that? Touch me and make me want him?
“One day,” he begins in that same raspy voice. “You will be so desperate for my touch, you will beg.”
I squeeze my eyes shut as the urge to concede consumes me. It would be easy to forget who I am. Who he is.
But I can’t.
He grabs the bedcovers and pulls them over both of us. I remain in the same spot, refusing to budge. Maybe I like the way his muscular arms cradle me. It’s safe here. Comforting here. There’s no need to hide my scars.
The truth stabs me. There’s no need to hide when I’m in Lyra’s body. Yet, this isn’t my life.
Don’t think about it right now.
