ARWEN

WATER SLOSHED OVER THE LIP of the tub as I leaned back into Kane’s chest. I reached for a towel to blot the sudsy puddle on the stone

floor, but Kane pulled me back.

“Leave it,” he ordered gently, drawing me into him as more water spilled and more steam curled through our washroom. We sighed in unison as my back met his muscled torso, his powerful thighs spread around me.

“It had been such a nice dinner,” I said quietly.

Kane hummed his agreement, stroking idle fingers through my wet hair. The water was just shy of too hot, and each muscle in my body relaxed with the generous feel of it.

Two fat waxy candles lit our bath in dim violet light, flickering from the moisture in the air. That flicker reflected the swirling, soapy water against dark walls. Lavender and jasmine soap filled my nose. Moonlight filtered in from the closed window, dulled by snowfall, and cast Kane’s long legs in silver slants.

“I’m sorry,” he said after a long while, that broad hand still moving softly through my hair and at my temples. I hadn’t realized I’d closed my eyes.

“What for?” I murmured.

“Everything. That we have so little time together. So little joy. Not even one dinner.”

My throat tightened and I shut my eyes tighter. “Let’s feel joy right now.”

Kane hummed again.

In this moment, we were together. Not joyful, admittedly, but we had some sort of resigned peace shared between us. A bare, honest intimacy.

We had to appreciate these moments before they were snatched from our grasp. It was like Kane had said—the love we all shared was what made us strong. We couldn’t let moments like these pass us by when we had so few left. I fished through the water for Kane’s hand and threaded it through my own, placing it atop my chest.

Kane’s thumb rubbed lazily across my skin until he grazed my nipple.

The bud tightened with the simple, tranquil touch.

“So,” Kane said, his voice a little devious. “You think Hart Renwick is gorgeous?”

I barked out a laugh. Clearly, the word had been lingering around in his mind all evening. “Did I say gorgeous?”

Kane’s thumb continued its soft strokes. His other hand skated casually down my arm, pebbling the flesh despite being submerged in hot water. His cock hardened, pressing against my back. “You did.”

“Look who’s jealous now,” I purred, letting my fingers drift across his thighs, grazing the fine hairs there.

“Yes.” I could hear the unapologetic envy in that deep voice. “And you’ve all but conquered that, haven’t you?”

It was true—that voice in my head that told me I wasn’t enough had become more of a pest than a mantra. “Maybe I should be rewarded,” I said, arching my body up so that his fingers floated closer to my stomach.

“Perhaps so.” His voice did riotous things to me. “What is it you’d like, bird?”

His fingers traced across my inner thighs, along my lips and my entrance, but no matter how I spread my legs, how I arched up into him, he avoided any meaningful contact.

I sighed, my fingernails scraping against his thigh in frustration.

He hummed in satisfaction, grazing a thumb across that sensitive bundle of nerves and eliciting a choked breath from me. “How will I know if you don’t tell me…”

Kane pressed a single finger firmly between my legs. When he found proof of my near-painful desire, even in the water, he growled against my neck and held my breast in his other hand, squeezing softly until I whimpered. “And yet, you’re terribly needy, aren’t you?”

My head nearly jerked into Kane’s chin with my nod. The heat from the water, the flush of my cheeks—I was feverish with how badly I wanted him.

Kane pressed his finger inside just an inch. Less than that. And I mewled.

He chuckled, his cock now throbbing against my spine. “Yeah?” I whined plaintively in answer.

He withdrew his finger and resumed his indolent tracing across my swollen lips, watching as I writhed.

It was decadent, the leisure. But my skin was on fire and I was losing my mind. “Please,” I practically slurred.

Through my wetness and the warm bathwater, he relented, reaching the spot I needed so, so desperately. I pitched upward, splashing us both, and he growled in satisfaction, pinching the nub lightly. When I moaned, Kane’s cock twitched behind me.

“Kane,” I whined, squirming.

“All right, all right.” He began a slow, excruciating massage between his thumb and forefinger of that one overly sensitive spot. I convulsed and cried out, frantically building toward a climax I knew would be the end of my sanity. Stars danced across my vision. My limbs sparkled. My body like a weightless cloud in the water, forcing Kane to heft me up him just a little so he could use one hand to hold me open and run the other through my plump, aching core.

“You are breathtaking,” he murmured.

I couldn’t even breathe, let alone respond. He dipped a finger inside me, the other hand continuing its gentle assault at the apex of my thighs.

And then he curled that finger, pressing against the spot that so often led to my unraveling. Acute pleasure coiled tight in my core and I clawed at the porcelain tub.

“Kane, Kane,” I babbled. “Oh, Stones, Kane—” “Shh,” he murmured. “You’re all right.”

I wasn’t—I couldn’t take much more.

But Kane only ran his nose along the shell of my ear and the side of my neck. Licking and sucking and murmuring how beautiful I looked spread open for him like this, how tight, and wet, and warm. How mesmerizing my breasts were, how my face, pinched in near agony awaiting release would fuel his fantasies for years to come.

But my bones had turned to scalding liquid. I was surely melting in his arms.

I must have said as much because Kane’s throaty laugh accompanied his eventual acquiescence. Freeing himself of restraint, Kane pushed a second finger inside me until I was so full of him, stretched so tightly around his long, broad fingers, I released a purely animal groan that sent Kane swearing and grinding himself, straining against my back as I moved with his fingers, pliant and aching and, all the while, that other hand circling rhythmically, delivering glorious pressure—

Bright colors burst across my vision. Water sloshed from the tub. I could barely contain the ragged, wanton screams—it was enough to keep myself from levitating out of the bath completely, or shooting firelighte out of my fingertips and burning the keep to the ground.

By the time I could breathe again Kane was nearly panting himself.

One of his hands had left my body to grasp the porcelain of the tub. Tiny fissures spider-webbed down the sides where his grip held firm. He had… cracked it. He’d cracked our tub. And his cock—

Thick, taut, and painfully hard. I sat up and Kane groaned with the lack of contact.

“Stand,” I told him.

Kane’s lust-dazed face—those flushed, sharp cheekbones and near-feral silver eyes—contorted in confusion.

I nodded, letting the provocative ideas filtering through my mind color my expression.

He stood inside the tub, sending water careening in waves like a creature of the sea. So large, so powerful. I cast my eyes up at his controlled, possessive, thoroughly male expression. A little smug as he towered over me—

My core heated again. It was getting ridiculous—would I never be rid of this need for him? Kane’s erection was long and painfully hard, and my mouth watered with anticipation.

He grunted as I knelt before him. Now that he was standing, the water barely covered my navel, and the cool air tightened my nipples.

“Arwen.” His voice was a little guttural. “You don’t have to.”

It was wild to me that after everything, he still said this every time. As if his pleasure was less important than mine. Or that this act, this giving of myself to him, was somehow more than he deserved.

I ignored him, wrapping my hands around his thick length. He weaved his fingers through my wet hair, and I worked him over with my hand, reveling in his hoarse groans. His skin was soft from the bathwater, and warm in contrast to the slight, pleasant chill of the washroom.

I pumped him slower, harder, until the head of his cock had begun to drip and his ab muscles were contracting.

“Put me in your mouth,” he said, as if the words had seized control. “Please,” he added quickly and with a low groan, his fingers tightening along my scalp and down my neck. And then he said it again on a single broken breath.

Overwhelming pride coursed through me and I moaned a little as I pressed his head against my tongue, continuing to stroke him with both my hands.

Kane’s eyes shuttered as he swore. I suckled him until his hips twitched

—his need was my fuel, that undercurrent of barely tethered dominance lighting me up from the inside like a lantern in the dark.

I knew what swirled inside the basest parts of him. That primal craving to hold me still and thrust into my mouth and make a mess all over me. And

yet there he stood, solid as a mighty oak, grinding his jaw, fisting his hands as gently as he could, enduring whatever I desired to give him, at whatever pace I chose. I knew he would have stood there and allowed me to lick him slowly, mercilessly, for hours and hours and hours on end.

I opened my mouth and enveloped his hardness as best I could. He was thick and long, and I had found through trial and error the other night that if I brought him too far back into my throat I would gag and cough and my cheeks would turn a very unsensual shade of pink as little beaded tears collected in my eyes. Kane had withdrawn himself from me with such haste I’d nearly fallen into his abdomen from my position bent over him in bed. He’d cursed softly and wiped the tears from my eyes with a look of such regret my heart had twisted nearly in two.

I’d asked him to let me try again but he insisted it was his turn and had spent the rest of the night making me sob through crest after crest of merciless pleasure on his tongue until finally, when I was loose and pliant and delirious, he’d nudged inside of me and finished within seconds.

I wanted to do better this time. I opened my mouth wider, and allowed him to guide me. To work my jaw and chin around his fullness. I swallowed and licked as he grunted. Moaned when he brushed a reverent thumb across my full, wet lips stretched around his heft.

Our eyes locked. His were a little pained. “Can I—? Down your throat?” We’d never made it this far. Always in too much haste to knot ourselves together. Needy to become one shared soul. I nodded, his words wringing a slight, unexpected whimper from me. As if that was all it took, Kane’s thrusts picked up speed and he groaned loudly, his voice echoing off the

mirror and wet stone floor of the washroom.

He spurted into my mouth and I hummed with the masculine taste. I swallowed his release eagerly, and continued to suck him until he purred, “Easy, easy,” and withdrew himself from between my lips.

When our gazes met, he released a breath of such deep satisfaction my eyes burned. Sinking slowly back into the water, he brought my bruised lips to his. The kiss was soft as he brought me back between his open legs and under the warm water.

Satiated and buoyant, I relaxed in Kane’s arms. The water softened the sharp edges of desire that had built back up inside me while I’d pleasured him.

Night blossomed outside. Owls hooted, crickets chirped.

A loud knock snapped my eyes open and I turned back to Kane, a little dazed. I wasn’t sure how long had passed.

“I’ll go,” he murmured.

I didn’t argue as he stood from the tub with a mighty push and surged water all over the floor. I also didn’t hesitate to admire his perfect round backside as he reached for a towel. Those lean yet powerful hamstrings, sculpted calves, tan, boyish feet…He was a masterpiece.

“Always staring.” His laugh was rough as he wrapped the fabric low around his waist and slipped out the washroom door.

I only heard muffled murmurs, but when Kane poked his head back inside his mood had changed slightly. Not quite dampened but…

“I’m needed by Eardley. Shouldn’t be long. Keep the water warm for me?”

“I’ll come, too,” I said, moving to stand.

“No,” he said with more urgency than I expected. “No need.”

Despite a nagging feeling in my gut, I nodded. Kane and I didn’t keep secrets anymore. If he needed me to come with him, he would have said so.

The door snicked shut and then I was alone.

THE WATER HAD TURNED LUKEWARM, resulting in gooseflesh across my arms and thighs. And my heart was pounding awkwardly. Not panic, exactly. But…I wasn’t calm.

He’d been gone too long.

I stood from the bath and dressed quickly in a silky golden nightgown.

And then, without really thinking, threw on my now-beloved fox fur and leather boots and hurried into the hallway.

My palms began to itch with unease.

“Is the king still with Eardley?” I asked the two guards on duty outside our quarters.

“I haven’t seen him, Lady Arwen,” one said, kind enough not to make a face at my bizarre clothing.

“Not in a while,” the other confirmed.

Calm down. If something were wrong, the whole castle would know it.

And it was true. It had to be almost midnight, and the castle was quiet. If someone had come for him, I’d hear the thunder of his wings, the torrent of soldiers running, the screech of Griffin’s shifted form…

Right?

I sped through the candlelit hall, that shred of doubt driving me faster and faster. Past the locked throne room doors and down that sprawling stone staircase. Along the hallway filled with statues, past those shadowed, haunting enclaves. Past shimmering cobwebs and sturdy wrought iron and delicate, snow-flecked stained glass.

Barney was walking out of the great hall right as I ran by, a loaf of cloverbread in one hand, mug of something warm and steaming in the other.

“Where is Kane?” I asked, my voice a whip through the silent night. Barney studied me, hesitant to say anything at all.

“Barney.”

“He should be in the gardens.” Something like sympathy laced his words, but I was running again before I could ask. My mind had flashed to the last time Barney told me the same.

When Kane had been planning to leave.

Oh, Stones.

Barney’s face. He’d looked so…guilty.

Kane would not be so moronic as to attempt some kind of suicide mission…Would he?

Don’t you dare leave me, my brain begged, despite all logic that told me nothing was wrong. Barney wasn’t scared. No guards appeared concerned…

So why was I sprinting like my very life depended on it?

I couldn’t answer myself as I raced across darkened halls, trying my best not to cry, not to crumble at the thought of searching this entire keep and finding it empty of him. Hurtling over stairs and slipping under railings, I reached the heavy doors and nearly screamed as I waited for the guards to wrench them open for me.

Panting, I careened out into the ice-cold night, the falling snow harsh against my still-damp skin and wet hair. I listened to the acute silence— even as the barracks were noisy with soldiers’ laughter and merriment—it was the absence of his voice. His footsteps. That was silence to me.

My hands shook.

Don’t do this, Kane. Do not do this.

I could barely see the moon through the clouds and the thick trees that rose overhead. I ran through the courtyards and fields for those gloomy, ethereal flowers.

Barreling, sprinting, lungs in my throat— And stopped short, my heart stilling, too.

To find the entire garden—every hedge and arch and pathway— illuminated in twinkling, flickering firelight.

Trees adorned with hanging glass bulbs that glowed. Verdant, despite the season. Tiny candles placed around the gazebos and verandas. Bouquets of flowers that I knew for certain did not bloom in the winter, tinged with glittering magic. Lilies—those black, spindly ones that grew only here, tied beside the white ones Kane had brought to Onyx just for me—as well as roses and orchids, pansies and lilacs. Fragrant lavender and night-blooming jasmine wreathed the central arch, moonlight and all that dainty, flickering fire casting the curved structure in an otherworldly glow. Like the sun, risen in the dead of night.

And below it, Kane.

Lighting a few lingering candles.

“What…” I had no words. I was still catching my breath when emotion closed my throat completely.

“I thought you’d still be bathing. I was about to send for you,” he said in that low, sensual voice before turning to face me. His brows knit together.

“Did you run here?”

I responded only with, “This is…for me?”

“Who else?” He placed the final candle along the brick beneath his feet. “Everything…it’s all for you.”

My feet carried me to him without thought until I was grasping his hands in mine. Both were chilled from snow, but I hadn’t even noticed until I saw the little flakes decorate his thick brows.

“Are you cold?”

I shook my head. “Kane, what is all this?”

With no fanfare or theatrics, Kane knelt on one knee before me and said, “You deserve far more. You deserve a long life and children if you’d like them and days upon days without fear. Acres of flowers and all the cloverbread that can be baked.”

A quiet, tearful laugh tumbled out of me.

“It kills me, bird, that I cannot promise you any of it. All I can promise you is myself—my love, my respect, my devotion—every day that we have together, and every day that exists beyond then.” Kane’s eyes gleamed. “In life, in death, my soul is yours. Arwen, will you be my wife?”

My chest expanded. I could hardly breathe past the swell of it. “I love you,” I whispered.

“Is that a yes?” he whispered back, roguish smile melting my heart. I nodded vigorously.

Kane’s mouth was on mine faster than I’d seen him stand. His warm lips enveloped me, and I pulled myself against him so tightly I felt the breath leave his lungs in a rush. His tongue licked against mine and I shivered.

I had barely pulled away, could still taste his breath as I uttered, “But…” Kane’s shoulders stilled beneath my hands. “But.”

The words nearly doubled me over. “But aren’t you afraid? Of what will come next? Aren’t we…” I couldn’t say doomed or hopeless. Not with all this beauty surrounding us and sparkling in his silver eyes.

He took my chilly hands in his and pulled me closer. His warm breath fanned over our interlocked fingertips. “I’m only afraid of being without you. In death. In life. It’s all the same to me if we aren’t together.”

Before the tears could wreck me, I brought my lips up to his once more. Our kiss was even more hurried this time. Fiercer. More desperate. Tongues and teeth and breath.

“Inside?” he murmured into my lips.

“I’m not even cold anymore,” I said, pressing my mouth under his ear and down the warm column of his neck. It was Kane’s turn to shiver.

“That’s not why…” He grunted before he could finish the words as my lips traveled along the center of his throat.

My blood heated instantly. “Yes,” I mumbled. “Inside.”

Kane released me, and like teenagers we raced through the iridescent, glittering snow back toward the keep.