Ruenen’s fingers untied the string at the top of her nightgown. He pushed the sleeves down to her forearms, exposing her pale sternum, razor-edged collarbones, and the slight swell of her breasts.

Marai pulled him away from the window and towards the bed. He planted soft kisses on her shoulders, and down her back to the sharp wings of bone. Marai let out a gasp before clamping her lips on his neck.

Her fingers did what they’d been aching to do for weeks. They untucked his tunic and inched up the muscle beneath. Ruenen shivered against the calloused pads of her fingers as they traced his abdominals and pectorals, mapping out the landscape of his body. He yanked his shirt over his head, tossing it on the ground. Marai’s eyes dipped to the lean, defined torso, and the jagged red scar on his side.

Immediately, horror filled her to see the wound that nearly took his life up close. Her fingers hovered over it. She was afraid she might hurt him.

“I’m alright,” he said against her ear. “You could never hurt me.”

Then he pulled Marai’s nightgown down farther, revealing her breasts, the smooth planes of her stomach. The nightgown fell to the floor in a pool around Marai’s feet. She stood, wholly exposed to him, vulnerable.

“Lirr’s bones,” he uttered, shaking his head, gazing at her as if he could hardly believe she was real. He caressed a hand down the length of her side, taking in her curves and edges. All the things she tried to hide.

She kissed him again, needy and desperate for the taste of him.

Ruenen gently pressed her backwards until her legs hit the mattress. Without a second thought, Marai lifted her hips onto the bed and lay back. Ruenen climbed over her, planting kisses along the way, starting at her stomach and working up to her mouth.

I could die from this. Her heart could give out right now and Marai wouldn’t care, so long as he kept touching her in this reverent way.

Her fingers fumbled with the buttons on his trousers, but soon she guided them down over his hips and Ruenen quickly stepped out of them.

The sight of him, all lean, smooth muscle. He placed a hand on either side of her, steadying himself. She couldn’t stop her body’s reaction to him. She was lightning waiting to strike. Marai knew that the moment he was inside her, she would explode with power and light.

Ruenen hesitated, watching her expression for any sign of discomfort. He still relived the moment in the alley when she’d run from his touch.

Not this time.

“I want you inside me,” she whispered, she begged.

Ruenen didn’t hesitate again.

One thrust and Marai shouted with pleasure. He filled her so perfectly; she’d never known this kind of intimacy could feel so good.

Slowly, his hips undulated and circled, making Marai writhe with pleasure beneath him. Ruenen was giving. He studied her reactions, noticed what she responded to, worshiped her with kisses and caresses in places that made her moan and gasp.

Her body was on fire, heart thundering. White and gold and starlight and sunlight and crashing waves . . .

The world exploded around her in a cosmic display of colors and stars. The sound that escaped her throat was one she’d never made before—guttural ecstasy and joy.

Ruenen called out her name.

And Marai swore then that she’d never heard a more heavenly sound than her name upon his lips.

Chapter 39

Marai

A symphony of birds sung in the birch tree outside the window.

Golden sunbeams splayed across white sheets.

Strong arms tugged her closer with a groan-like sigh. He tossed a leg over her. His stubbly chin burrowed into the crook of her neck.

I don’t want this to end. 

“You’re not going to like this, but I have to go,” Ruenen whispered.

Marai’s heart sunk, but she knew why he needed to leave. His coronation was in a few hours. Already, Marai heard servants dashing back and forth outside in the hallway. They were probably searching for him . . .

What would happen if they were discovered? Kings often did whatever they wanted with women, but Marai was different. This whole situation was different. Marai could already hear the scolding from Holfast, Fenir, and Vorae: the king shouldn’t dally with a faerie.

Ruenen groaned as he turned over onto his back. Marai felt immediately chilled from the absence of his body.

“I need coffee,” he said with a rasp, scrubbing a hand across his jaw.

They hadn’t gotten much sleep, spending hours exploring each other. It had been a night Marai would never forget. She traced a finger across his lips. Ruenen closed his eyes at the touch. When he opened them again, he tucked her wild hair behind her ear, as Marai so often watched Raife do with Thora.

“I’m in love with you, you know,” he whispered. “I have been since the moment you told me your name. I think even before that, when I saw you single-handedly take down those thieves in Grelta.”

Ruenen’s confession swirled around in the chambers of her heart. The words burst within her, warm and rosy and bright; Marai was surprised she wasn’t glowing.

Those words shattered the last hurdle between this new Marai and the Lady Butcher. She’d said those words before to Slate, and they’d been a lie, something forced upon her.

“You don’t have to say anything,” continued Ruenen, “but I wanted you to know—”

“I do, too,” Marai blurted, then felt her cheeks flush. “Love you, that is.”

Ruenen beamed as if he’d eaten the sun. His lips met hers. Marai was where she always wanted to be—home in his arms. Lost and found again in his kiss.

The birds outside the window chirped with more persistence. Ruenen groaned.

“Time’s up, I’m afraid,” he said with a pout.

Ruenen clamored out of bed with all the grace of a toddler, and Marai studied his glorious form in the morning sun. The red scar was more prominent in daylight. A symbol of his bravery. A symbol of his sacrifice. She hoped it never faded, like the sunburst mark on his wrist.

As he bent over to fetch his trousers, she admired the taut muscles in his rear and thighs.

“Careful, Lady Marai. You’re drooling,” Ruenen said, winking. She threw a pillow at him. He caught it with an expression of mock alarm. “Pardon me, but I think it’s bad form to abuse the king on his coronation day.” He then released a melodic laugh as Marai made a face.

“I don’t have anything to wear.”

“Oh, I’ll have something sent up for you,” Ruenen replied lightly with an air of playfulness that made Marai instantly suspicious. “As long as you leave the black cloak behind for the day.” Fully dressed, Ruenen leaned across the bed and smacked her lips with an unabashed kiss. “Duty calls.”

Marai trailed her fingers once more through his soft hair. Ruenen closed his eyes, leaning into her hand, and shivered a sigh. Then, he strode with peacock swagger from the room.

Insufferable, she thought with a laugh, remaining wrapped within the warm sheets that smelled of Ruenen.

Not long after his exit, Harmona appeared. Horrified, Marai realized she was completely naked underneath the sheets—her nightgown still on the floor. If Harmona noticed, she didn’t show any sign. Instead, she placed a bowl of porridge on the table and scampered into the hallway. Marai quickly stepped into her nightgown and tied the string at the top. She wolfed down her porridge as Harmona came back into the room with another servant carrying green fabric in her arms.