Page 123 of Of Masks and Fury

I’d seen him shirtless before a number of times, had tended to his wounds and traced the hard planes of his chest. But this was different. This was him undressing for me after all we’d been through, his eyes never leaving mine.

Scars marked his torso, some old and faded, others newer. The claw marks across his upper chest from the battle in the Rite stood out against his skin, still healing despite how much time had passed.

I stepped closer, trailing my fingers over the raised lines. “You received these while protecting me.”

“Worth it.” He caught my hand, pressing my palm flat against his chest where his heart thundered beneath. “Every scar is a vow etched into my skin and proof that I’d bleed for you, die for you, live for you alone.”

I rose on my toes and kissed one mark, then the next. His breathing hitched with each press of my lips.

“Isi.” My name came out strangled.

“Fair is fair,” I murmured against his skin. “You get to worship me, I get to worship you.”

His fingers threaded into my hair. “You’re going to make me fall apart.”

“Do it. I’ll catch you.”

He kissed me again, harder this time, his tongue sweeping into my mouth with clear ownership. I melted into him, exploring the broad expanse of his back, the muscles that flexed beneath my touch.

When he pulled back, we were both breathing hard.

“The spring,” he said. “Get in the water, love. Let me take care of you.”

I stepped back and pulled the chemise over my head, letting it fall beside the discarded dress.

Trew’s inhale was sharp enough to cut.

I stood before him completely bare, lit by faelight and stars. I remained still, proud, letting him look his fill.

“Amazing.” He reached for me, his fingertips ghosting over my collarbone, down between my breasts, and across my belly. “You’re perfect, Isi. Every bit of you.”

My skin heated beneath his touch. “You’re still overdressed.”

His smile flashed as he made quick work of his boots and pants, discarding them on the ground. Then he stood before me, equally bare, equally beautiful.

Over the past days, I’d imagined this moment in stolen fragments. Like always, the reality shattered every fantasy I could’ve dreamed up.

He was all hard muscles and golden skin, marked by battle and time. Scars told stories across his body, each one a testament to survival. He looked at me like I was precious and powerful and his. That made everything inside me align into perfect clarity.

“Fates, Trew, you’re a masterpiece,” I whispered, my voice husky as I traced a scar with my fingertip. “Every mark on you is like a love letter to the battles you’ve won. Battles for me and for us.”

His gaze softened, but the heat in it burned hotter. “I love that you’re all soft curves and fierce fire.” He held out his hand. “Come here and let me touch you. I want to memorize every sigh and shiver.”

I let him guide me toward the pool. The water lapped at the stone edge, steam curling into the cool night air.

Trew stepped in first, his movements careful as he found his footing on the bottom. Turning, he lifted me by the waist, lowering me into the water beside him.

Heat enveloped me, chasing away the last chill from our flight. The pool was deeper than I’d expected, the water rising to my chest. Minerals made it slick against my skin, soothing my muscles.

“Better?” Trew asked.

“Much.”

He pulled me closer, until my back rested against his chest and his arms wrapped around my waist. We stood like that for a long moment, just breathing, just being.

“I was scared,” I said quietly. “They took you to the dungeon and my father said I had to marry Lord Alfred, or he’d kill you. I had two knives. I was going to use them. But I worried I’d be overpowered and forced to marry him no matter what I did.”

His arms tightened and he curled around me, kissing my shoulder.