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When Pyetar joined her in the middle of the room, he seemed calmer. The tension that had lined his jaw and eyes had relaxed. He looked at her apologetically.

“I’m sorry I had to leave the summit without saying goodbye.”

“It’s alright.” She understood. They had bigger priorities than each other.

The corner of his full mouth tilted up. “I had hoped to steal some time alone with you.”

“Me too.” She stepped closer to him, settling into this more familiar interaction. “But we’re alone now.”

She knew she should update him on the creature she’d seen, but there’d be time for that later.

Pyetar stepped up to her, so close she could feel the heat of his body, and bent down to kiss her. It was slow at first, their mouths firm but savoring. Reacquainting themselves with the feel of each other. She felt warm, like she was slowly being consumed, and she loved it. But quickly, that warmth caught flame.

Her hands were tangled in his hair, her fingernails dragging against his scalp. She liked the way his muscles bulged around her as he tensed, so she nipped his lower lip with her teeth, then ran her tongue along it as he sucked in a breath, lips parted.

“Gods, Iryana,” Pyetar groaned as he backed her against the nearest wall, pressing himself against her.

“I missed you.” She widened her legs, letting his knee slip between them to press against her. She shuddered and whimpered, “Oh, gods.”

His hands were on her neck and jaw, fingers tangling into the top of her braid, tilting her head to give him better access. He was devouring her. They rocked against each other, holding on with clinging hands. His tongue slid into her mouth, hot and wet. He explored as he kissed her, and she could only think about how that tongue had felt between her legs.

Knuckles rapped on the wood door, followed by an urgent voice. “I have that map you requested!”

Iryana jumped, their bodies stilling. Slowly, reluctantly, he leaned back.

He searched her face, those eyes hot as blue flames. His mouth was swollen from kissing her.

“Wait here,” he begged, voice low and deep.

Pyetar stalked to the door, righting his clothes just enough before throwing open the door, grabbing the map with a rushed “thank you,” and shutting it again.

Iryana couldn’t have moved if she wanted to. She was strung so tight already.

The map fluttered onto the desk, and Pyetar prowled back toward her. There was tension in his face again from talking to one of his soldiers, as if his mask had come out even just from that small interaction.

He wrapped her in his arms possessively as Iryana trailed her fingers up his chest.

“You know…” Iryana leaned back to look at him. “The man you had to be when your brother was in charge… you don’t have to be like that anymore.”

He blinked, as if his brain had to catch up. “What?”

“You’re creating something new here. Showing everyone that there is more to motivate them than greed and fear. I can see how much things are changing, even if there is a long way to go. You can let go of the mask you wear with them.”

Pyetar’s eyes shuttered. “Well then, who else am I supposed to be?”

“Just you.”

“I don’t know who that is.” His voice was laced with frustration, his face crumpling.

Her heart panged. Iryana cupped his face and pressed a kiss to the side of his mouth. “You have a big heart, and you’re great in a crisis. You’re not needlessly violent, but you know how to fight. You’re disciplined, hard-working, compassionate, and—”

He silenced her with his mouth. She had to fight not to melt against him, not to arch into the warm hands circling her waist.

“Pyetar,” she chastised between kisses.

“Iryana,” he argued back.

“Trust me,” she sighed. “You’ll figure it out.”