I bury my face against him, breathing in his familiar scent of leather, applewood, and smoke. “I love you.”
Jasce’s arms tighten around me. “I love you too.”
My fingers tangle in his dark hair as I kiss him, needing to lose myself in him.
“Don’t be gentle,” I say the moment I break the kiss.
His hands tighten on my waist. “Annora...”
“Make me forget.” I roll my hips against his, drawing a low groan from deep in his chest. “Help me forget everything but you.”
The last thread of his restraint snaps as his mouth crashes into mine. This is what I need—this burning passion that consumes everything else.
I fumble with the hem of his surcoat, and he helps me pull it over his head.
Tonight, I want passion, and I want to burn so bright in his arms that all the darkness gets burned away.
His hands slide beneath my surcoat, touching my hips, my stomach, my breasts. My head falls back as his lips trace down my throat, and I arch into him, desperate for more contact, more heat, more of everything he offers.
The rest of our clothes fall away until there’s nothing between us but skin and shared breaths.
When he enters me, the world narrows to just this. Just us. Just the way we fit together, as if we were crafted from the same star.
Maybe we are. Maybe the gods made us for each other.
What a beautiful thought. A perfect thought.
He is mine. And I am his.
Without him, I would have never found the dawn again, the promise of a brand new day.
I dig my nails into his shoulders as he moves, each thrust driving away memories of flames and screams until all I can think about is the way Jasce feels, the way he touches me, the way he loves me.
Chapter Sixty-Eight
Annora
“Summon your Phoenix,Annora. Kill them all.”I wake with a jolt, hearing Aleksander’s voice echoing in my mind, again and again.“Summon your Phoenix. Kill them all.”
Everything blurs—the walls, the floor, Jasce—as I move to the table and grab a surcoat.
With trembling fingers, I yank it over my body.
“Kill them. Kill them all.”
Aleksander’s voice pounds through my mind as I stumble out of the tent into the predawn darkness and summon the Phoenix, and she materializes in a burst of golden light.
Tears stream down my face, but I can’t wipe them away. Can’t lower my arms. Can’t close my eyes. Can’t stop any of this.
Help me, Olah.
Please, please help me.
Warmth spreads through my body—licking at my arms, my feet, my hands. I lift them to the sky, holding them there, as if the gods are watching me, listening, strengthening me.
I don’t want to hurt my people.
Protect them.
