Astarte's Wrath (Kythan Guardians 0.50)

He turns the bolt on my door, keeping his arm sturdy beneath my legs. Then he takes me to the bed where he lays me down. I let my head fall back against the coverlet as he hovers above me, his fisted hands pressing into the mattress on either side of my head, his knees parting my legs.

Suddenly he bounds up, and I think he’s come to his senses. My stomach tumbles as I realize how much I don’t want him to be responsible—but we can’t chance it here. Only he grabs the chair from my desk and kicks the back. My eyes widen in surprise. He places one of the panels against the door, securing its ends in the torch brackets.

“That should give them some difficulty,” he says as he unbuckles his belt, the action making my heart beat wildly. “And give me enough time to hide in your dressing room like a clandestine lover.”

A smile twitches at my lips. “You mean, like exactly what you are?”

Shaking his head, his dark hair falling against his eyes, he counters, “I’m offended.” He strips off his leather armor. I pull my bottom lip between my teeth as my eyes slip over him, and a crooked smile hikes his face. “Ah, but that does it for you, huh? You like stealing kisses in the shadows, the constant fear of being caught.” Climbing onto the bed, he positions himself above me. “I bet your heart is pounding hard right now, the adrenaline claiming your body”—he presses his palm over my heart—“with a need only your clandestine lover can satisfy.”

I breathe deeply through the hitch in my throat, the feel of his hand on my chest causing my breath to catch. “Cocky little king. You assume you’re the only thing that gives me satisfaction?”

His smile widens as he lifts one of my arms and kisses the sensitive skin of my wrist. “If there is something in this world that can please you more than me,” he says, his warm breath caressing my skin, “then I’ll be extra diligent in my duties tonight, my queen. Indulge me with every sensation that gives you pleasure, and I will match it and more.”

Whatever retort was on my tongue vanishes, his heated words stealing all reason from my mind. Only one lingers: queen. Hearing him refer to me as his intended opens my heart like the sea opens to the sky, and I am his.

I bring his hand to my lips and kiss his palm, my eyes closing, as I inflict as much emotion into my action as possible. “I love you,” I whisper. The pang in my heart spreads, thundering through my body.

We’ve danced around the outcome once this all ends; avoiding ruining what precious time we have together before we’re fleeing. But in moments like this, the knowledge that all that we have, all that we are together, could be stripped away—frightens me more than any punishment for our crime.

Xarion runs his free hand up my thigh, along my waist, tugging my shift above my stomach. As he presses his soft lips to my flesh, I tremble. His breath whispers over my skin as he says, “I love you with all that I am.”

Slipping my shift over my head, he moves his body fully on top of mine. His fingers glide through my hair, his lips meet the hollow of my neck, skimming the inked symbol, and I push all thoughts of possible loss and our undetermined future away.

And as he rocks into me, making good on his promise to please every sensation my body longs for, I dig my fingers into his back, grasping him as if I can hold on strong enough to keep us together.

As the sun rises over the harbor, I find myself again staring into the horizon. With every whip of the breeze, I shudder, envisioning the wind pushing Octavian’s ships through the sea, bringing him nearer.

Closer to us.

I loose the thread of my curtain and shut out the wind, as if I can stop its might. Then I dress for the day. Xarion stole away to his chamber before the palace awoke. The excuse he gives his guards for being out all night is a lousy one—reading at the Library. But with the stress of war busying everyone, I doubt his guards will think anything damning.

Besides, he has a personal guardian with him at all times. A smile flits across my face.

After I push my feet into my sandals, I grab my bands and cuff my arms, trying to ignore the eerie feeling creeping over me. Like I’m so far removed from myself, on the outside looking in. As if this will be the last time I ready myself in the palace.

The feeling seizes me so violently that I don’t bother belting my sash, and instead grab it and my sword and rush into the corridor. On my way to Xarion’s room, I nearly crash into Habi.

Placing his hands on my shoulders, he steadies my unbalance before I stumble back. “Star,” he says, and I hear the strain in his deep voice. He’s not surprised to

see me because he was on his way to my room. “Come with me.” He jerks his head, and I swallow hard.

“General, what’s happened?” I fall in step behind him, my thoughts swirling in a vortex of speculation. When he doesn’t answer, I demand, “Tell me now.”

He turns on me, and even though I should regret speaking to my superior as I did, I don’t. And he doesn’t reprimand my insolence. “Octavian’s ships have been spotted from Pharos.”

A cold numbness snakes through my body. My legs freeze, but Habi tugs me forward, and somehow I make it to the Councils’ chamber without fail. I scan the many serious and downcast faces around the table. There was no miscommunication on Habi’s part. My premonition was right. The wind is bringing Octavian to our shore.

When my eyes land on Cleopatra, I have the sudden urge to comfort her. She’s dressed in black, as if she’s in mourning, and a veil covers half of her face, keeping it hidden. I want to assure her once again that I will protect Xarion—that he will be safe with me.

She bounds from her seat, Set’s was scepter in her hand. “Tonight, we war.”

Cheers from the gathered guardians rise up, echo off the walls. But I stand still, my focus on our queen and the thing Candra will kill for at her side. She gives me a slight nod.

My heart skips a beat.

It’s her signal. Tonight, we run.

Chapter Fifteen