Page 152 of Of Masks and Fury

I looked up at him, taking in the heat blazing in his eyes and the fierce possessiveness written across every line of his face. My heart hammered against my ribs.

“Yes,” I whispered.

“Say it.”

“I belong here.” The words felt like a vow. “In your bed. With you.”

“Good.” He lowered himself until his body pressed against mine, until I could feel every hard plane of muscle and every breath he took. “Because I’m not letting you go. Not now. Not ever.”

Then his mouth found mine, and I stopped thinking altogether.

His kiss was hungry, demanding, full of all the fear and need and desperate hope we’d both been carrying. I met him with my own heat, latching onto his tunic, pulling him closer.

He tasted like the wine we’d shared earlier, like heat and want.

His hand slid into my hair, angling my head so he could deepen the kiss. I arched into him, needing more contact, more pressure, more everything.

When he finally pulled back, we were both breathing hard and his eyes had darkened. “You like having me at your mercy. And you like knowing you’re the only one who gets to see me like this.”

He was absolutely right. There was something intoxicating about having this powerful man completely dependent on my touch and care.

“Maybe I do.”

“Good.” His voice dropped to a rumble. “Because I’m yours, Isi. Completely. I’m going to show you just how thoroughly you own me.”

“I do own you.”

His snort rang out. “Damn right you do. Do you still think you should’ve gone to your own room?”

“No. This is exactly where I should be.”

He kissed me again, softer this time. Sweet. “Now stop arguing with me and let me prove it.”

I smiled against his lips. “Make me.”

His growl promised a very thorough effort.

And as his mouth moved to my neck and his hands began their slow exploration, I let myself forget everything else. The mysteries we needed to solve. The dangers waiting beyond these walls. And the weight of responsibility that never quite lifted from either of our shoulders.

For now, there was only this. Us.

And the truth written in every touch, kiss, and whispered promise.

CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

ISI

We gathered in Trew’s council chamber early the next morning, a big breakfast spread out on the wooden table between us. The room smelled like fresh bread and strong tea, though the worry simmering beneath our casual meal had nothing to do with food.

I sat beside Trew, our chairs close enough that our knees touched beneath the table. Lexie sat on our right, spreading jam on a slice of bread, with Derren on her left, methodically working through a plate of eggs and roasted vegetables. Kerralyn had claimed the seat on Lexie’s left, and she had her journal already open beside her plate.

Our companions were with us, perched on the backs of our chairs, our shoulders, or they had settled on the table to eye the food.

While we ate, we reviewed what we’d discovered the night before.

Then Kerralyn flipped to a marked page in her journal. “There’s more we should discuss. Things I found about veil-sight abilities.”

My attention sharpened. Pherin shifted behind me on the back of my chair, her talons clicking on wood.