His hands lower, and he rolls to face me.
That is the reality of us, and no amount of wishing will ever change it.
His fingers slip around my wrist, and he brings my hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to my pulse. My heart beats a little faster.
Looking into his hypnotic eyes is like staring into liquid moonlight. A portal into his thoughts and desires. And from the way his gaze rakes down to my mouth, it’s clear his desires match my own.
“Cursed or not, we are two halves of the same whole,” he says. “Two souls made to dance among the stars. Two hearts that beat as one. We are mates.”
We may be all of those things, but the world insists that none of it matters. That the plans and whims of others will always win over our own.
His fingers lightly graze my cheek as he tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. The flower he placed there drifts to the blanket, wilted like the heart in my chest. “Did you kiss me last night, or was that a dream?”
It does feel like a dream. A beautiful, tragic dream. “I thought you were gone and didn’t know how else to bring you back.”
He flops onto his back and falls still.
A startled laugh bubbles up inside me. What is he doing? When I nudge his shoulder, he doesn’t budge. “Get up, you loon.” When I poke his ribs, nothing happens. I even threaten to throw fish on him, but Senan refuses to acknowledge me.
He has lost his mind.
I didn’t know how else to bring you back.
“Oh, dear. The prince is clearly unconscious. How will I ever revive him?” The smile on my face feels foreign as I lean down and let my lips whisper against his. His hands lock around my waist, lifting and tugging until my knees fall to either side of his hips, mirroring our position from the night before.
“Much better,” he murmurs, sliding his hands up my spine, tangling in my messy hair, keeping me in place until his breath becomes my breath.
“Senan,” I whisper. A warning. A plea.
He adds the slightest pressure to the back of my neck, urging me down until our foreheads brush. “Before you protest, hear me out. I don’t want you to remember me like that—for our last kiss to be tainted. I want your memories of me to be fond. To replace all the bad with good. To make you smile for as long as I’m able.” His thumb presses against my mouth, dragging down, toying with my lower lip. “Say you’ll let me.”
Thirty-Six
ALLETTE
Say you’ll let me.
I want to. Despite knowing all I know, despite our past and our future, stars, do I want to. But I worry. About me and my broken heart, yes. But more than that, I worry about Senan. What happened all those years ago may have broken me, but it shattered him. How will he fare when we’re ripped apart once more?
And how can I take this moment for myself without telling him the truth of what I’ve become?
He doesn’t even realize I’m no longer Scathian. That those humans stole the only things that put us on a semi-even footing.
My head and my heart are at war, but my heart has been broken for so long, weakened by seams stitched haphazardly back together.
“So, what? We just pretend you’re not about to marry someone else and move to another kingdom?” So simple. So logical.It’s going to hurt, whispers my heart.
Warm hands brush my hair back from my face, the dark dye concealing its true color the same way I hide my scars. “That is exactly what we do. I have too many regrets in this life. I don’t want one of them to be that we didn’t steal every last drop ofhappiness when we were given the chance.” His tongue darts out, swiping along full lips that I ache to kiss. His eyes plead and beg, and yet he says, “But what I want doesn’t matter if you no longer feel the same. Last time, I didn’t give you much of a choice. This time, I will follow your lead.”
The lust clouding my mind is making me waver. The longer I stare at my long-lost love, the louder my heart whispers, until I hear it as clear as a bell:It’s going to hurt either way.
Senan’s dark brows rise in silent question, and I answer the only way I know how.
By dropping forward and crushing my mouth to his. His grip on my neck tightens almost painfully, but nothing hurts as much as my heart knowing this isn’t a joyous greeting but a stubborn attempt to ignore goodbye. His tongue glides along the seam of my lips, and when I open for him, sweeps inside to meet mine, tasting and teasing.
My hips start to move, seeking friction, rocking and grinding, dragging a curse from his lips as Senan’s body hardens beneath the softest parts of mine, stroking where I crave him most.
Hips lift. Holds tighten. Tongues conquer.