“You’re insatiable,” I murmur, tilting my head to give him better access.
“Only for you,” he whispers, his teeth grazing my earlobe.
“Jasce...”
He pulls back, his eyes dark with desire. “Yes?”
I cup his face in my hands. “Kiss me.”
His lips capture mine in a kiss that steals my breath away. My hands slide up his chest to loop around his neck as I respond to him—giving as much as I take. I want him to know, without a shadow of a doubt, that I care for him. That marrying him wasn’t a political move or a way to escape my past. It was a choice, born from the stirrings of my heart.
A sudden knock against the door shatters the moment, and I pull away first as Jude’s voice carries to us.
“Jasce, you’re needed immediately in the War Room.”
My heart hammers as Jasce stands.
“I’m sorry.” He brushes his fingertips along my jaw, the caress feather-light, then he turns toward the door. “I’ll try to hurry.”
The moment the door shuts behind him, I fall back against the mattress and stare up at the mural covering the ceiling—a vibrant sunset captured in swirls of orange, pink, and purple.
As I trace the colors with my eyes, my thoughts inevitably turn back to my earlier conversation with Aleksander and to what I saw beneath his facade. Does Jasce know the extent of Aleksander’s desire for control?
Probably so.
Maybe that is why I have sensed a difference in their relationship. With Jude, Jasce seems more relaxed, his shoulders less tense and his words flowing freely. But with Aleksander, he always seems more on edge, as if he has to shield himself from his brother’s inner animosity.
It’s subtle, but it’s there.
I sigh and reach for my seashell necklace. Hopefully, they can mend their differences and work in harmony for the good of their people.
ChapterThirty-Five
JASCE
I strideinto the war room, where every member of my council sits, waiting for me.
Ivor speaks first. “My Lord, I’m afraid the situation in the city has taken a dire turn. The rebel faction grows bolder by the day. Our grain stores have been raided twice more, leaving many families hungry.”
He pauses, and I sense the worst is yet to come. “Just this morning, a contingent of city guards were ambushed and slaughtered not five leagues from the palace gates.”
Anger flashes through me, and I slam my fist against the table. The maps and wooden figures rattle from the impact. “Who is responsible for this outrage?”
“Our spies believe it’s the work of Keel,” Aleksander says. “He and his followers grow more brazen every day.”
Keel?
My veins heat as I think about Keel being one of Jerrod’s generals. He was the first corrupted man I stripped of his title and kicked out of my army after Jerrod died. Now, Keel is stirring a rebellion against me.
I’m not surprised. He’s always been traitorous and cowardly.
Ivor nods. “The people are afraid. Keel sews discord and fans the flames of resentment against your rule.”
I stand and pace before the hearth, the fire’s warmth doing nothing to abate the ice in my veins. I should have crushed this rebellion sooner.
“We’ve been too lenient. It’s time to remind the people of Sharhavva who their rightful chieftain is.” I meet each of their gazes. “We will root out these rebels.”
The council nods as I continue. “Crushing the rebellion will require a coordinated strategy across all fronts. Ivor, increase patrols even more throughout the city. Any rebels captured are to be questioned, then publicly executed as traitors.”
