House of Sky and Breath (Crescent City, #2)

She laughed, a full, throaty sound that he’d never heard before. “I don’t think you could handle the sort of punishment I dole out.”

His balls tightened; he couldn’t help it. “We talking … restraints? Flogging?”

He could have sworn he got a flash of teeth biting into a lower lip. “Neither. I don’t care for any of that in bed. But what do you prefer?”

“It’s always the lady’s choice with me. I’m game for anything.”

She angled her head, a waterfall of flame spilling down the side of the couch, as if she draped long, lovely hair over it. “So you’re not a … dominant male.”

“Oh, I’m dominant,” he said, grinning. “I’m just not into pressuring my partners into doing anything they don’t like.”

She studied him at that. “You say dominant with such pride. Are you a wolf, then? Some sort of shifter?”

“Look who’s trying to figure me out now.”

“Are you?”

“No. Are you a wolf?”

“Do I seem like one to you?”

“No. You seem like …” Someone crafted of air and dreams and cold vengeance. “I’m guessing you’re in Sky and Breath.”

She went still. Had he struck true? “Why do you say that?”

“You remind me of the wind.” He tried to explain. “Powerful and able to cool or freeze with half a thought, shaping the world itself though no one can see you. Only your impact on things.” He added, “It seems lonely, now that I’m saying it.”

“It is,” she said, and he was stunned that she’d admitted it. “But thank you for the kind words.”

“Were they kind?”

“They were accurate. You see me. It’s more than I can say about anyone else.”

For a moment, they stared at each other. He was rewarded by a shifting of her flame, revealing large eyes that swept upward at the edges—crafted of fire, but he could still make out their shape. The clarity in them before her flame veiled her once more. He cleared his throat. “I guess I should tell you that the rebels were successful with their hit on the Spine. They’re bringing over the Asteri’s mech prototype to the Coronal Islands tomorrow night.”

She straightened. “Why?”

“I don’t know. I was told by—my informant. A rebel contingent will be there to receive the shipment. Where it goes from there, I don’t know.” Cormac wanted Athalar to examine the Asteri’s prototype—see how it differed from the humans’ that the angel had faced so often in battle.

Because Athalar was the only one among them who’d faced off against a mech-suit. Who’d apparently spent time in Pangera taking them apart and putting them back together again. Cormac, as he’d been fighting alongside the human rebels, had never battled one—and he wanted an outside opinion on whether replicating the Asteri’s model would be beneficial.

And because Athalar was going, Bryce was going. And because Bryce was going, Ruhn was going. And Tharion would join them, as the River Queen had ordered him to.

Flynn, Dec, and Ithan would remain—too many people going would raise suspicions. But they’d been pissed to learn of it. You’re benching poor Holstrom, Flynn had complained. Dec had added, Do you know what that does to a male’s ego? Ithan had only grunted his agreement, but hadn’t argued, a distant expression on his face. Like the wolf’s mind was elsewhere.

“Who’s going to be there?”

“He angled his head. “We got word that Pippa Spetsos and her Lightfall squadron will also be present. We have some questions for her about … a missing person.”

She straightened. “Is Spetsos being given command of the Valbaran front?”

“I don’t know. But we’re hoping we can convince whoever is there from Command otherwise. We suspect that she and Lightfall have left a trail of bodies all around the countryside.”

Day was quiet for a moment, then asked, “Do you know the name of the ship that’s carrying the prototype?”

“No.”

“What island?”

“Why are you grilling me on this?”

“I want to make sure it’s not a trap.”

He grinned. “Because you’d miss me if I died?”

“Because of the information they’d squeeze from you before you did.”

“Cold, Day. Real cold.”

She laughed softly. “It’s the only way to survive.”

It was. “We’re going to Ydra. That’s all I know.”

She nodded, like the name meant something to her. “If they catch you, running is your best option. Don’t fight.”

“I’m not programmed that way.”

“Then reprogram yourself.”

He crossed his arms. “I don’t think I—”

Day hissed, bending over. She twitched, almost convulsing.

“Day?”

She sucked in a breath, then was gone.

“Day!” His voice echoed across the void.

He didn’t think. Launching over the fainting couch, he sprinted down her end of the bridge, into the dark and night, flinging himself after her— Ruhn slammed into a wall of black adamant. Time slowed, bringing with it flashes of sensation. No images, all … touch.

Bones grinding in her left wrist from where it was being squeezed tight enough to hurt; it was the pain that had awoken her, pulled her away from the bridge— Willing herself to yield, give over, become his, to find some way to savor this. Teeth scraping at her nipple, clamping down— Ruhn collided with the ground, the sensations vanishing. He surged to his feet, pressing a palm against the black wall.

Nothing. No echo to tell him what was happening.

Well, he knew what was happening. He’d gotten the sense of very rough sex, and though he had the distinct feeling that it was consensual, it wasn’t … meaningful. Whoever slept at her side had woken her with it.

The impenetrable black loomed before him. The wall of her mind.

He had no idea why he waited. Why he stayed. Had no idea how much time passed until a flame once more emerged from that wall.

Her fire had banked enough that he could make out long legs walking toward him. Halting upon finding him kneeling. Then she dropped to her knees as well, flame again swallowing her whole.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

“Yes.” The word was a hiss of embers being extinguished.

“What was that?”

“You’ve never had sex before?”

He straightened at the slicing question. “Are you all right?” he asked again.

“I said I was.”

“You weren’t—”

“No. He asked, albeit a bit suddenly, and I said yes.”

Ruhn’s insides twisted at the utter iciness. “You don’t seem to have enjoyed it.”

“Is it your business whether I find release or not?”

“Did you?”

“Excuse me?”

“Did you orgasm?”

“That’s absolutely none of your business.”

“You’re right.”

Again, silence fell, but they remained kneeling there, face-to-face. She said after a tense moment, “I hate him. No one knows it, but I do. He disgusts me.”

“Then why sleep with him?”

“Because I …” A long sigh. “It’s complicated.”

“Indulge me.”

“Do you only sleep with people you like?”

“Yes.”

“You’ve never fucked someone you hate?”

He considered, even as the sound of her saying the word fucked did something to his cock. “All right. Maybe once. But it was an ex.” A Fae female he’d dated decades ago, who he hadn’t cared to remember until now.

“Then you can think of this like that.”