Chapter 42
Godsdammit.
This is really, really annoying.
I’m standing in Hallis and Acker’s room. I glance down and confirm I’m in what I wore to sleep, nothing more than my underwear and my blouse, which is only long enough that it just kisses the top of my thighs.
Hallis sits at the writing desk next to the door, shirt off and scribbling something into a small notebook in the low candlelight. It’s a book I haven’t seen him with before, but from the scratched leather of its cover and frayed bindings, it’s obviously well used.
Across the room, Acker lies on his stomach on the bed, head pillowed on a folded arm as he sleeps. Wearing only his pants, with his booted feet hanging off the edge of the mattress, he remains motionless other than the slight rise and fall of his back as he breathes.
Hallis hasn’t looked up from his work. I take a hesitant step in his direction, noting the sword he has balanced against the table beside him. I peer over his shoulder and am surprised to find that his handwriting is messy, almost illegible, the sentences tiny, crowded scribbles that blur into the next line. I can feel the body heat radiating from his skin, but he doesn’t look up or notice anything amiss. Testing the boundaries of what I can do in this state, I blow on the shell of his ear, and his head snaps in my direction.
I startle back a step. The words on the tip of my tongue die at the way he stares at me. Well, not at me. Through me.
Eyes darting left and right, he looks toward Acker, who remains asleep on the bed. They narrow as he struggles to see beyond the lamplight. After a
long, tense moment where I think my heart is going to explode, he turns back around.
Releasing a quiet breath, I turn toward Acker. I’ve observed him sleeping many times over—in my shiel, on the boat, on the hard ground in the forest—but never have I seen him sleep like this, with abandon and entirely at peace. Hair falling over his brow, lashes fanning across the tops of his cheeks, mouth slightly ajar. It brings a tightness to my chest that I can’t identify, something as soft as it is sharp.
His strength is evident in the muscles of his back and arms, every dip and curve curated by training and fighting. The scar from where Kai stabbed him remains visible on his side. Skin that’s gnarled and rough, unlike the scars from the quicker healing that happens over land. The rest of
his skin is a deep tan and flawless.
I wonder … Leaning down, I run a finger over the smooth curve of his shoulder.
There’s no time to think or react before I’m flipped onto my back and Acker’s fist is around my throat, dagger poised in midair and ready to strike.
Hallis shoots to his feet, weapon at the ready. “What is it?”
Acker’s eyes clear of sleep, the haze dissipating as he takes me in. His grip loosens on my throat, and I accept the air with greed.
“What in the hell do you think you’re doing?” he says, hastily putting the dagger flat on the bed with his palm over it. He leverages his body over mine, eyes morphing from the intense gaze of a calm killer to hot annoyance in the span of a few breaths. “It’s Jovie,” he adds, responding to the question from Hallis.”
Hallis’s hold on his sword slackens, blade pointing toward the ground as he loosens the tension in his shoulders. “So that’s what I felt a minute ago.”
Acker’s eyes take me in, trailing down the front of my blouse, eyebrows rising when he gets to my exposed underwear and thighs, which his knee is pressed between.
“You can’t see her?” he asks, not taking his eyes off me.
“Not at all,” Hallis replies, but I don’t dare look away from Acker’s heated gaze. “You look like you’re pinning down a phantom.”
Acker sits back on his knees, face unreadable. “Speak,” he orders me. I
find myself smiling. I don’t know why.
“Speaking.”
Acker’s slow to look away, but I don’t miss the slight upturn of his lips he manages to suppress before he looks at Hallis.
Hallis shakes his head. “Nothing.”
Acker returns his attention to me. “Are you sleeping right now?”
“The last I remember, I was. Beau was half way through a bottle of brandy when I went to bed.”
Acker cusses as he looks at back to Hallis. “Beau’s drinking.”
Hallis snatches his discarded shirt from the back of the chair before
storming out of the room.
I look at Acker, confused.
“She only drinks when she’s struggling with her magic. With all the heightened emotions … it can be overwhelming,” he says, careful to choose his words.
I’m finding it difficult to focus on what he’s saying anyway. I scoot up until my back is to the wall, and he catches the movement, eyes flicking down to where my thighs are pressed together, then back to my face.
The obscene noises that have been coming through the thin walls all night start to sound seductive instead of fake as we hold each other’s stares.
Then I’m startled awake by the sound of glass breaking.
“You’re so gray,” Beau whines, dark hair a tangle around her head. She reaches for Hallis.
“Why didn’t you tell me the truth when I asked if you were okay earlier?” he asks, taking her into his arms. It’s the softest I’ve witnessed him be, coddling Beau. “You know better.”
Beau drops her forehead to Hallis’s chest, knuckles white as bone as she grabs his shirt. “I’m sorry.”
His worried anger dissipates in an instant. Cradling the back of her head to his chest, he places the bottle on the small desk beside the door. Acker enters and takes in the scene, mouth in a tight line as he takes in Beau’s fresh tears.
“Want me to take the first shift?” Acker says.
Hallis sighs and shakes his head. “It doesn’t look like I’ll be sleeping tonight.”
They share a look, communicating without words, before Acker dips his head in acquiescence. He looks toward me, holding out a hand for me to follow. Hallis keeps his gaze on Beau as I walk past them.
I’m at a loss for what to do. “Beau—”
“No,” she cries, squeezing even closer to Hallis. “They’re so bright, Hallis. Please don’t make me.”
I look at Hallis, concerned, but he just shakes his head. “Just go.”
Acker nods in encouragement, and I let him lead me out of the room and across the hall. He locks the door behind us and places his dagger on the edge of the desk, the point of the blade toward the door.
“Does this happen often?”
“Not as of late. It was worse when she was younger.” He removes his shirt and hangs it on the back of the chair. “I’ve never been envious of her gift. She’ll be fine after she sleeps it off.”
There’s a heaviness on his shoulders as he looks at me. It’s obvious he’s displeased by the turn of events.
“I’ll take the floor,” he says, stepping around me to reach the pack, dropping it in the slim space between the bed and desk.
He sits on the edge of the bed to unlace his boots, putting them out of the way. I stop him from sinking to the floor with a hand on his shoulder.
He goes still. His gaze travels up from my exposed thighs until he meets my eyes.
“As much as it pains me to say this…” I grimace through the words I’m about to utter. “I think even the floor is too great a distance between us if I’m to get any rest.”
He looks down at the bed, inhaling deeply. A mirage of thoughts and emotions flit across his gaze. He seems to reach some resolution and drags his weight onto the bed.
With his chest laid bare, upper body propped up on an elbow, he takes me in.
I fight the urge to squirm under his gaze. I pretend my blouse isn’t see- through. I wish it were just a smidge longer. I can all but feel his eyes
dancing across my exposed skin, and for reasons I can’t fathom at this moment, I let him look.
“I hate that the first time we share a proper bed it’s in a brothel.”
I climb onto the rough duvet. “You say that like there’ll be other times in the future.”
He slides into position, arm outstretched for my head to rest on.
Grinning, he braces his other forearm over the curve of my hip. “We’re matched. It’s a foregone conclusion.”
A lick of anger races through me. “Can you at least pretend you still have to court me?”
His grin slips away, surprise replacing it, then frustration soon after.
“Have I not proven myself to you yet? I risked my life to go to Alaha to save you. I protected you. Killed for you.”
Even in the darkness, nothing but the half-burned candle in the lamp Hallis left on the desk casting light over the room, I can see the sharpness in his eyes. I don’t like the wave of guilt that threatens to make my eyes water.
“Tell me, Jovie,” he says, angry. “What more can I do?”
I shake my head, just the tiniest of movements, because I don’t know. I don’t know if there’ll ever be anything he could say or do that would remove my trepidation. Especially considering he’s currently engaged to another, regardless of his spoken intention to break it.
He must see it too, because resignation settles over his features as he releases a deep breath. “You haven’t slept in days.”
I am so very tired, the kind that takes root inside the bones. A cool draft sends shivers down my bare legs and Acker pulls me closer, shoving his legs between and over mine to cover them. The exhaustion I’ve been chasing for three nights begins to ebb. I allow myself to find solace in his presence, if just to ease the tension in the length of the Matching Bond connecting us.
“You’ve been avoiding sleep so you don’t visit me,” he says, voice rough in the stillness of the quiet room. “It didn’t start happening until after I quit letting you inside my mind, right?”
After I think about it, I nod.
“It’s as if the Bond is looking for the path of least resistance.”
“Why is it only on my end?”
He takes a moment to consider my question. “Because you’re opposed to it.”
My breath sticks in my lungs as I come to the realization that my own reluctance may be the cause of my Bond trying to find ways to close the gap. If it’s true, I will never get a say in the matter. The Bond will get what it wants regardless of my objections.
Taking a deep breath, I soak in Acker’s scent. It’s equal parts familiar and dangerous, enticing and comforting, like a midnight swim on a summer night.
He squeezes my hip. A gesture of reassurance or placation, I’m not sure.
“Get some sleep.”
“Easier said than done after that revelation.”
He smiles, pulling me so close that his chin rests on top of my head.
“Don’t worry, Jovie. I’m going to court you so well you’ll be begging to climb into bed with me.”
I can’t stop the smile tugging at my lips. His challenge sparks the competitive spirit in me. I run my nose along the column of his throat, enjoying the goose bumps that erupt along the skin. Then I send an image of closing my teeth around the vital portion of his neck straight into his mind. Like pushing through a stuck door, I divulge my fascination with his throat.
He’s unprepared for my intrusion, a shiver racking his body as he grips the hair at the back of my head, eyes roving my upturned face. “How’d you —”
“Or,” I drawl, a tad bit smug, “my end of the Bond is waiting for yours to catch up.”
His gaze jumps between my eyes, inspecting them for any falsehoods or deception. Coming up empty, he angles his open mouth toward mine, hovering tantalizingly close. I freeze in place, my breath stalling as I await his next move.
In the space where his thigh is wedged, heat pools between my legs, a fiery longing seeping into my veins. The feel of his naked chest rising and
falling against the meager material covering mine reminds me to breathe. I draw in a large rush of his breath, and it only stokes the fire inside me more.
He speaks against my mouth, lips just brushing mine as his deep voice utters my name. “Jovie.”
Then I feel it, his own desire, hard and pressing into my lower belly. His lashes cast a shadow over his cheekbones, irises dark as he holds my stare. I can’t help the slight tilt of my hips as I seek some sort of relief or contact or friction, something to lessen the building desire burning me from the inside out.
He slides his hand from my lower back over the curve of my ass. He relishes the feel of each cheek before choosing one and squeezing. I’m all but about to beg him to kiss me when a smirk overtakes Acker’s face, the sight of it sending all my thoughts and rushing blood to a screeching halt.
“Or maybe your Bond knows what you want better than you do.”
I slap his hand away and he untangles himself from me, chuckling in the face of my attitude. I’m glad it’s dark enough to hide the searing heat tinting my cheeks. I can feel it all the way to my ears.
I flip over and give him my back. “You’re a bastard.”
Unperturbed, he slides a palm across my stomach, pulling until his front is flush with my back. The evidence of his arousal is still firm against the curve of my backside, but I don’t move away, grateful for the warmth his body provides as he covers my legs with his once again.
At least that’s what I tell myself, and my Bond for good measure. The damn tether is practically purring in contentment at Acker’s close presence as I drift off to sleep.
