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The words stop me cold. A private memory surfaces of music from an old radio, movements that belonged to no one but me in the safety of locked rooms.
“You move with the same grace as when you fight,” he continues, “but with a freedom you never allow yourself elsewhere.”
Embarrassment tangles with indignation. “You had no right—”
“No,” he agrees. “I didn’t.”
I should pull away, break the connection that lays me open before him. Instead, I ask, “How long?”
“The entire time you’ve been gone,” he says without a trace of apology.
“Spy,” I hiss, though warmth fills me at his fascinated confession.
His other hand comes up to cup my cheek, his fingers cool on my skin. “I wanted so much to cross through to your side and dance with you.”
His desire echoes inside me, a physical hunger that mirrors my own tightly leashed need.
“Why didn’t you?” I ask, swallowing past the dryness in my throat.
“Court politics. My duties.” He laughs softly, his amusement echoing somewhere inside me. “But those are excuses. The truth is simpler. I feared you would see me, and I’d discover my affection was mine alone.”
The stone pulses between us, betraying my reaction to his words. There’s no hiding here, not with the court amplifying every heartbeat, every catch of breath.
“Caelan said you were my admirer,” I say, attempting to reclaim some control through mockery. “I thought he was trying to embarrass you.”
“My brother has many faults, but lying isn’t among them.” Elionn’s thumb traces the line of my jaw. “I admired you from afar. Wanted you from afar. And then you came hunting me, bound by my blood.”
“Not exactly the romantic meeting you imagined.”
His laugh ripples through the crystal around us. “No. But you found me when no one else could. You bargained with the court to free me.”
He sobers. “And sacrificed yourself in my place.”
I try to break contact, but his fingers tighten on the stone, keeping our connection open.
“I can feel your regret,” I tell him. “It hums through you like a second heartbeat.”
“Not regret for what’s happened between us.” His restraint slips another fraction. “Regret that I wasted so much time watching through glass when I could have been touching you instead.”
Desire tightens low in my stomach. “Bold words for a princeling who never dared cross over.”
“I’m crossing now.” He leans closer, his breath a warm caress on my lips. “Unless you command me to stop.”
The sigils on my palm burn, pulsing in time with Elionn’s heart. The stone between us gleams like a captured star, binding us together with threads of magic and blood and feelings far more dangerous than either.
“I’m not in the habit of giving commands to royalty,” I whisper.
One corner of his lips lifts. “Liar. You do nothing but command.”
His mouth finds mine with surprising heat, stealing the air from my lungs.
23
WHAT MIGHT HAVE BEEN
AMALIA
Elionn’s fingers tangle in my hair, the urgency of his tugs sending sparks racing down my spine. I bite his lower lip in response, drawing a groan that vibrates against my mouth. The sithean stone answers with a surge of light, our connection magnifying every sensation until I can’t tell which pleasure belongs to who.
