Astarte's Wrath (Kythan Guardians 0.50)

“Octavian may not be in full control over the Leymak, but this scheme could be his way to try and stir a rebellion among the Kythan,” I continue. “I suppose it’s now time to prepare. Not every guardian can be trusted.” A flash of Fadil enters my mind. “And I wouldn’t trust the sorcerer with this knowledge, either. But soon, we’ll need to plan. Maybe consider finding a way to sneak you out of the city.”

Xarion’s features pull together in sharp, serious lines. “I’ll not run. I’ll not hide. I’m a pharaoh of Egypt, son to the greatest queen of the Ptolemies, and I refuse to cower against my enemies. The only way I’ll leave Alexandria is with you by my side, as my companion—free.”

I level him with a sharp glare. “I knew you’d say that. And that is precisely why I didn’t want you to know.” Lifting my hand toward his creased brow, I clear his dark hair from his green, brooding eyes. “A possible retaliation by the guardians is just one more weighted burden on top of the many you already carry. You don’t need the added strain. Let me deal with Candra and the Kythan. They’re my kindred. As long as I’m their equal—in both power and status—I can protect you.”

His head tilts, his chest expands. “This is why you won’t be with me.” It’s not a question. Understanding lights his eyes. I nod. “This is the only reason.” Again, I nod. “Then I refuse to let them keep us apart for one more moment.” And in one quick motion, Xarion captures my face between his palms and crushes his lips to mine.

I shudder under the intensity of his kiss, his lips desperately seeking, demanding. His passion overwhelms me, and I wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him closer. His hands latch on to my waist, fisting the soaked fabric of my shift, and a low groan rumbles in the back of his throat. That noise does something to my insides. A fire ignites in my chest, hot and consuming, as it travels the length of my body. A low throb blooms between my thighs, and I press that ache forcefully against the hardness beneath me.

As his tongue delves deeper into the hollow of my mouth, searching, caressing—I moan, my fingers curling in his hair. I can’t get close enough to him. It’s as if years of denying myself this feeling, his touch, this pleasure is erupting like a volcano. And there is no way to stop the irrevocable damage its fiery path will cause once the molten heat is gone.

But for this one moment, all those fears disappear.

I want him to touch every spot on my body, kiss every inch—own me, and not stop until I’m too exhausted to think of the consequences.

He must be feeling the same emotions and physical need, too. His hands greedily probe my body, as if trying to memorize it. He lifts his hips, pressing the proof of his need against me, the thin fabric creating an annoying barrier between us. The ache intensifies, and I press down harder. Xarion shudders, his limbs quaking with want.

Forcefully breaking the kiss, he pulls back, gasping. “Don’t deny me your feelings anymore,” he says low. “I need you now—all of you.” He swallows, the cords of his neck tense. “I want to belong to you. Let me please you.” His eyes are heated. “Let me serve you.”

Without waiting for my reply, he lifts us out of the water, his arms securing me against his body. His eyes never leave mine as he walks us into his room, then lowers my feet to the floor. Trailing his fingers up my arms, sending shivers dancing over my skin, he reaches the silver clasps of my shift. With a click, the clasps come undone, and my wet shift slides down, pooling around my feet.

His eyes roam over my body, and a breath trembles past my mouth when he wets his lips. My whole being craves him, scared if he doesn’t touch me soon this moment will end. That it’s not real. I need to feel him for confirmation that I simply won’t awaken from a dream.

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He steps back, and a subtle pain wracks my body. I’ve never known how painful the distance between us was before. I never allowed us to be this close, and after just seconds of finally realizing what I’ve been missing, the longing to have that closeness back is too much.

But he quickly returns to my side after retrieving something from the brightly painted console. With his hands held behind his back, it’s difficult to guess what he’s hiding. My eyes skim over his body, lustfully admiring his toned chest, stomach, thighs—the evidence of how much he wants me. And when he stands behind me, I press my back against his chest, needing to feel connected to him.

Sliding my hair over one shoulder, Xarion places something metallic and cool around my neck. I reach up and feel the smooth metal as I lift the multi-toned gold necklace toward my line of vision. The blue jeweled eyes of a serpent stare back at me, and my breathing halts.

“Xarion—”

“I should have given it to you long ago,” he says. “But you would never give me a moment’s peace to attempt it.” He chuckles.

A hesitant smile lights my face. Asp jewelry is given to show equality, and when a royal gifts it, they’re proclaiming that person royalty. Xarion is claiming me as his equal, his match. His other half. My eyes tear, and I jerkily shake my head, clearing the moisture away.

“This is so dangerous, Xarion,” I say. “If anyone ever found out—if the Council discovered—”

“I don’t care.” He runs his hand over my cheek. “My title be damned. I’ve loved you for ages. And I’m going to make you mine.” He lowers his lips to mine, caressing them into a passionate kiss as he guides my body toward his bed.

Chapter Thirteen

My fingers trace the smooth gold of my necklace. It’s coiled in the pocket of my tunic, hidden from the many servants, council members, and guardians occupying the palace.

As I caress its sleek surface, a small smile forms on my lips, the memories of this morning flitting through my mind. How Xarion delicately guided my body, knowing just where to touch to coax an intense response, rather than allowing my anxiety to control. The way my breathing ached in my chest as the pleasure seemed to become too much, my back arching, my legs trembling, and the sweet release that captured us both. It was so passionate, and he was so devoted to me, that my inexperience fled my brain. All I could taste, feel, sense was him.

It was as if our bodies were created for just that purpose; to come together.

I bite my lip, trying to conceal the bright smile taking over my face. My thoughts haven’t left our morning together all day, and I desperately need to focus on serious matters. But as I attempt this, I spot Xarion seated at the council table, his head lowered over a parchment. Only his eyes continuously peek up at me, and I have to look away, knowing we’ll expose our secret if we continue this game.

The gravity of our actions bears down on me, and I plant a stoic expression on my face, straightening my posture into a dignified guardian stance.

But in his bed chamber, when pleasure consumed us at that cresting moment, the world didn’t end. The gods didn’t rain hell and damnation upon us. And it didn’t feel wrong. I search my heart for any remnant of remorse at having broken the law, but if it’s there, it’s buried beneath the joy and love.

I wish we could have found another way—could have waited for this war with Octavian to end, and I could’ve been made human so that nothing would taint our time together. But as I once again glimpse Xarion working dutifully with his council, he glows. Not a hint of guilt mars his serene features. I won’t allow centuries of slavery and prejudice to ruin us if he won’t. I vow to be as committed and strong in the belief that we are bound together—that we were meant to be together—as he is.

“Your Highness!”