Rowan tilted his head, his slick hair plastered across his forehead. “How much do you know about the legend behind our titles?”
She shifted, dropping back against the wall. “Apparently not as much as I should.”
“Sounds like we need to spend some time in that library of yours.”
“It’s notmylibrary.”
Another burst of exasperation clawed its way to the surface, this one having less to do with Rowan’s most recent revelation and more to do with the fact she was still trapped in the Ether. The library belonged to the god of death. As did her clothing, her weapons, even the bed in which she slept. He owned everything she used, everything she touched. The only items in the realm that truly belonged to her were her Aurastone, the opal necklace she wore, and the ring Tiernan had given to her when he proposed.
The rest was simply borrowed on a seemingly never-ending tab.
Which was fine by her, since she’d been brought here against her will. If the god of death wanted to spoil her with a library, fancy weapons, and nice clothing…then so be it.
But the Ether wasn’t Niahvess. It would never be home.
“That’s not what I meant.” When Rowan spoke, his voice was quiet. He cast a glance toward the training area and then his gaze lifted to the skies. The rain was spitting now and beams of soft light broke through the blanket of gray clouds that had covered the Ether for days now.
“Let’s meet there in an hour,” Rowan said, striding out from beneath the alcove. He peeled off his shirt, revealing his lightly tanned chest, showcasing the white, ravaging scars Carman had inflicted upon him.
Maeve swallowed the hard knot of guilt building in the back of her throat and looked away.
“I need a shower.” His shirt was soaked, covered in grime. He slung it over his shoulder, giving her a once-over. “So do you.”
She glanced down at herself.
The leggings she wore were shredded at the knee and caked in filth from the thigh down. The white blouse was stained a hideous shade of murky gray and even the corset, once detailed with pretty lace embroidery, looked as though someone had washed it in mud. Not to mention, she smelled of sweat.
“Piss off,” she grumbled, stomping off towards her small apartment above the library.
Rowan’s low laughter followed behind her.
* * *
Maeve stoodin the shower as hot water poured over her body, warming her icy skin. Steam rose around her, soothing the ache in her bones. She tilted her head back to let the stream of heat soak her hair and wash away the grime. The shower wasn’t nearly as luxurious as the one she’d grown accustomed to in the Summer Court. There was no separate soaking tub or jars of essences and flower petals, but the simple glass enclosure served its purpose. She grabbed a bottle of liquid soap and popped open the top. It wasn’t her favorite, but it was the only one she’d been able to find in the Ether. A faint flower scent hit her first, before it dissipated into something that reminded her of dark nights and cold mountains.
She focused on her magic, willing herself to create something that smelled of palm trees, warm sandalwood, and plumeria. She crafted the bar of soap in her mind, imagining the bubbles would feel as soft as silk. Her blood hummed, her magic stirred.
If she could just make this one simple thing, then maybe what happened in the training courtyard was a fluke. Maybe her magic wasn’t vanishing.
Maybe…a blob of half-dissolved soap shavings filled her hands.
“Damn it,” she muttered.
What was happening? She’d only just learned to master her magic, and now it wouldn’t even respond to her. Fresh annoyance left her angry and confused.
Lathering up her body with the liquid soap instead, she scrubbed away the sweat and bits of mud that clung to her skin. She washed her hair, rinsed it, then stood there, surrounded by vapors. Exhausted, she let the glass wall hold her up. Anything was better than sinking to her knees and giving in to the despair that was gradually dislodging itself inside of her.
She missed Tiernan.
Gods, she missed everything about him. The way he slung one arm around her waist whenever they slept together. His mischievous smirks. His laugh. The way he kissed her. Loved her.
Just thinking about it was enough to set her entire body aflame. And it had nothing to do with the scalding shower. Her breasts ached, pining for his touch. The sensitive area between her thighs was throbbing now, the water beating against her doing little to give her any kind of reprieve.
Images flooded her mind—the solid build of Tiernan’s body over her, beneath her, inside of her. She remembered the first time she saw the five golden studs piercing his hardened length and the thrilling rush of desire that bolted through her. Longing barreled into her, sending sparks of lust straight to her core.
Unable to handle the fire igniting inside her, she slid her hand down the smooth planes of her stomach until her fingers hovered just above the pulsing bundle of nerves waiting to be touched.
She pressed down, rubbing gently, and a gasp escaped her. Goosebumps pebbled all over her flesh, adding to the tempting sensation.
