Stella blinked at him in disbelief. He’d hated her for so long that she’d forgotten the way they’d been when they were children spending summer days on the beach, ripping flowers from the cliffsidetrail to try to make crowns as grand as the ones her father used to make her with his dexterous carpenter’s hands.
“But it doesn’t matter what I want. It may as well be a wish. The kingdoms are too unstable for me to be so selfish. As much as I’d like to run off and be free to live on my whims, I love my kingdom and my people, even if they don’t love me back. I can’t abandon them when they need me. My father told me once that being a great king is like being a parent—that you love your people unconditionally, whether they love you or hate you. I’ve never felt that so keenly as I do now.”
They both went silent, and Stella wondered if they were thinking about how close he’d come to being relieved of that role just hours ago.
Stella shook her head, trying to blot out the memory, but her magic wanted to pull it up over and over. Memory magic could be like that; a mind turning over and over, constantly drawn back to the past, always slipping into daydream and memory. Her mother was like that, but Stella was normally much better at staying present.
The guilt left her with the haunting uneasiness that the assassins might not be the last lives she took.
Teddy, clearly sensing the direction of her thoughts, pushed her onto her side and yanked her back against his front so his body was curled around her.
“Stop thinking and go to sleep,” he murmured into her ear.
Make me. She was so tempted to say it aloud, but the comfort of someone protectively holding her while she slept was a luxury she’d never experienced.
He pressed his palm over her sternum and the bond felt warm and bright, calmed by Teddy’s proximity. It was like this hollow in his arms was the space she was made to fill, and the moment she was tucked safely into it, sleep came to claim her.
29
TEDDY
Stella’s pale skin took on an ethereal glow in the morning light cascading through the treehouse window. Teddy knew he should wake her. They had more ground to cover today, and they needed to complete the memory retrieval and start the journey back if they wanted to make the deadline.
Still, he couldn’t bear to disturb her. He knew what it would be like. She’d wake and for one blessed moment she’d forget what she’d done and then he’d have to watch her remember again. It was part of the reason he’d barely let her sleep. He didn’t want to let her have a single moment alone with her thoughts.
He’d been a comfort to her. He’d helped her through what was probably the worst night of her life, and he felt guilty for enjoying it.
It wasn’t just the sex, though, that had been mind-blowing. It was the way he’d intuitively known exactly what to do—the way she’d let him help. The softness of her looking at him with so much relief and trust. Gods, he did not even trust himself that way, but when she looked at him like that, he thought maybe he should.
He was too aware of her now—her proximity, her scent on the air like fresh rain on wildflowers mixed with salted sea air. He could getaddicted to that—and to the way she slept pressed against him all night.
She sighed and shifted, her green eyes fluttering open. She smiled, and it was half-shy, half-wicked. Her skin had already healed, no remnants of the bite marks he’d left all over her when they got into things. He would have felt bad, except when he’d done it, she came so hard that she’d needed a full minute to lie still and recover.
Stella was pent up in the way he was, in the way that only the two oldest children of the most famous families in the two kingdoms could be. He liked that she needed it as badly as he did.
Teddy slid his hand down her side and lust warmed their bond, along with the dregs of grief and disappointment. Last night was supposed to be an ending. It felt too soon, but it was for the best. He knew he should just get up and start his day, but his cock was already hard from the memory of the previous night, and he wasn’t ready for it to be over.
“Did you need something this morning,Minyha?”
Mischief flared in her eyes. “I can still feel you inside me.”
“Fuck,” he groaned. It was so stupidly possessive, but he loved it. He loved how quickly she understood what to say to make him crazy.
He flipped her onto her back. He wanted to make sure she felt him in every movement, all day—that she was so thoroughly fucked that, even though she didn’t want to be with him, she would at least feel his presence in her body for a day or two.
He shoved her knees up toward her shoulders, bearing her to him. He stared at her for a moment, feeling half mad for her. Then he pushed into her slowly, watching the pleasure on her face.
She moaned, and the sound vibrated through his whole body.
The night before, she’d been desperate for a distraction and then wild for release, but in the light of day, she was slow, clearly studying him in the way he’d studied her.
He moved his hips, hard and insistent, kissing her neck, nipping at her skin, running a thumb over her nipple. He needed this violent affection as much as she did. He wanted to touch her everywhere, consume her, breathe in nothing but the scent of her.
Her clenching became more rapid, her nails scoring his back. She was close. He pumped into her one more time, then pulled out.
Her eyes snapped open, and she glared at him. “Not yet,Minyha. I don’t just want you to come for me. I want you to feel the aftershocks of this climax for days.”
She whimpered as he slowly pushed back inside her. She was still twitching. Her pussy was so tight and wet, gripping him like she wanted to take him deeper into her body.
