He fucking didn’t like it … but he’d expected it. Still, to have any hope of keeping his distance, he needed to hear her say that she didn’t want him.
Though he had no business touching the princess without her permission, he couldn’t stop himself from propping a finger under her chin and lifting her gaze to his. “Answer me.”
Drawing in a rattled breath, she lifted her hand to his chest. It shook. Did she intend to touch him? or to keep him at bay? Either way, when her fingertips settled on his skin, it seared him. Ice’s mind raced nearly as fast as his blood rushed through his body and settled into his cock. Hell, was there any left for his brain? Gazing at her upturned face, shining blue eyes, red cheeks and mouth, honeyed skin—incredible beauty, inside and out—he didn’t think so.
“I—I don’t like being angry,” she whispered.
Again, she hadn’t exactly rebuffed him. This could be the biggest mistake of his life, but Sabelle’s nearness compelled him to touch her. Somewhere. Anywhere. He brushed his way down her shoulder, then caressed the curve of her waist. She drew in another shuddering breath. Her whole body trembled now. The scent of her arousal thickened. He swallowed, his knees turning dangerously weak.
She didn’t screech at him to stop, didn’t break the contact.
His heart tripped into hyperspeed, and he could barely hear his breathing over the roar. He felt poised on the edge of the cliff, looking down at the freefall likely to kill him … and still he couldn’t stop from making the perilous leap.
His hand on her waist tightened. “Do you like being kissed?”
“I shouldn’t.” Her voice shook.
True, she shouldn’t, at least not by him. Neither should he want her so badly. But maybe this once, amid chaos and possible death, duty and class wouldn’t stop her from allowing him one small taste . . .
“That isn’t what I asked. Do you?”
Her lashes fluttered again. Her breasts rose as she took a deep breath. Her head fell back, eased forward. Then she repeated the process again, this time more quickly. Was she nodding?
“Yes.”
Barely a whisper. Her blue eyes held hesitation … and desire. Sabelle Rion, the most Privileged, beautiful witch in centuries, wasn’t repulsed by the idea of his kiss.
Desire fired through him like turbo-charged lightning, a torch scorching his veins. He cupped her face in his hands and dragged her against him. Bent his head to her. Crashed his mouth over hers. He meant to be gentle, but … bloody hell. Lips so pliant. Sweet. He didn’t linger. Couldn’t. Later. Hunger roared at him. Deeper. Taste her. Now.
As he sank into her mouth, Sabelle parted for him. He swept inside her, devouring as much of her as he could in a single sweep of his tongue. Her taste overwhelmed him in less than a second. Hot. Sweet.
Instincts followed, flaring to life, then roared. His!
He took off the brakes, discarded the last of his care and caution. Turned every shred of his ravenous hunger on her, taking the kiss so deep, he didn’t know how he’d ever find a way out of her mouth. And he didn’t care. He must make her understand exactly how seriously he not only desired her, but had to possess her. Always.
Slipping his arms around her waist, he pulled her closer still, until she was crushed against him. A new icy-hot wave slammed him, drowning him in sensation, in her flavor. A skin-tingling fever of need followed. Sabelle moaned, then curled her fingers around his neck, over the stubble of hair on his head, drawing him closer still. Her kiss tasted of hot surprise and desire. Cocking her head to meet his onslaught, her lips clung, electrifying him. Her surprising acceptance fried his brain.
Until she tore her mouth away suddenly, panting. “Ice . . .”
Her expression was a question. What now? Why were they doing this? How could they stop?
Familiar words chanted through his mind, demanding he speak them. He tried to bite his tongue. Now was hardly the time, and she’d likely laugh. Once spoken, the words would bind him to her for the rest of his life, even if she refused him, which was likely. And once she did, he could never touch another … not that he’d want to, since he hadn’t almost from the moment he clapped eyes on her. Unless … what if she spoke the Binding?
Whatever she decided, the Mating Call was forever.
Despite that, he could not stop.“Become a part of me, as I become a part of you. And ever after—”
“Oh my God.” She gasped. “Ice, I—”
“I promise myself to thee.”
Sabelle might not want him to finish this Call, and saying it might doom him, but the taste of her still rolled around on his tongue like ambrosia. Instinct reeled, roared. No way would she stop him from trying to stake his claim and make her his.
“Ice,” she implored. “My brother—”
“Is not involved here.” He felt his eyes burning into her. “This is between you and me.”
“But … I—I don’t. … He won’t approve.”
Bram wouldn’t. That went without question. And right now, he could give a shit. But he noticed that she hadn’t said she didn’t want him. “What do you want? Because I know I want you, princess. Any and every way you’ll let me have you.”
God, her lips were right beneath his, and he needed another taste of her so badly, every cell in his body craved it. Damning caution, he layered his mouth over hers again. She was like sinking into sugar, sweet, light, tempting … addictive. He nibbled at her lips, then prowled deeper, engaging her tongue. Then deeper still, consuming as much of her as he could with a single taste.
Again, the urge to claim, to mate, scraped down his instincts, clear, loud, strong. He lifted his mouth, panting over her lips. “Each day we share, I shall be honest, good, and true. If this you seek, heed my call. From—”
“Stop!” She grabbed him by the sleeves of his robe. “Ice, think. If you say the rest, it’s done. Even if I refuse, as long as I live, you’ll be bound to me.”
“I want nothing else.” He stared deep into her eyes, as a feeling of rightness, inevitability settled into his gut. “From this moment on, there is no other for me but you.”
The moment the words were out, fire slammed across his senses. Take her! Claim her! The voice in his head raged at him, chanting. Now, now, now! He restrained it—barely—grimacing as he clutched her waist and tried to wait for her response. Would she Bind herself to him? Renounce him? Most likely the latter. Even so, hope torqued up his gut.
She reached up, stroked the side of his face. Tears shimmered. Like she was going to a funeral. No doubt his. Damn it!
“Why?” she murmured.
“Why Call to you? Instinct,” he growled out the truth. “You know wizards sense their mates in a single taste.”
And he wanted another taste right now, deeper, more intimate. Everything she could give him. The need to consume her clawed at him. He tried to ignore it. In the part of his brain still running the show, he needed to hear her response before this went further.
Her gaze skittered away. “I don’t know what to say.”
“You don’t know the Binding words? Can’t sense them?” Was that even possible?
“I know them, but the wisdom of saying them … Most witches aren’t blessed with the instinct, you know. We must choose. You and I … we’ve barely spent an hour alone together when we haven’t been buffered by Bram or running for our lives.”
Something in his chest softened like melted butter. She wasn’t saying no exactly; she was overwrought. Bram was her priority, and rightfully so. The day had been harrowing. Pushing her wasn’t productive, and as much as he yearned for a reply now, maybe waiting would persuade her to Bind to him.
“Sabelle. My princess . . .” Pure reverence welled straight from his chest, resonated in his tone. He hoped she understood his sincerity. From tonight on, no one would ever be more important to him.
She sobbed at his words, staring at him in pained confusion that tore at his chest.
“Shh.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I’ve spoken the Call. You know I could never hurt you, will always put you above me. If you need time to know me—”
“I do, but . . .” Her blue eyes turned bleak. “Even if you were my best friend and lover combined, my brother would never give his blessing.”
“Do you need it?” He tucked a golden curl behind her ear and caressed her cheek. “You’re a grown witch, able to make your own decisions. Bram may not be thrilled. I’m not keen on having the backstabbing bastard as a brother by mating, but—”
“Stop! Whatever bad blood is between you and Bram doesn’t matter. He’s made me promise not to take a mate without his blessing. I won’t break that vow.”
He stared at her in puzzled shock. “You’re fully transitioned. An adult. Certainly you’re not going to let your brother make your decisions for you. What do you want?”
“Not to alienate my brother. I’ll only be eighty-five next month—”
So young? Ice winced. He was nearly two hundred fifty. Yet another obstacle … “That makes you young, but not stupid. Are you saying that, even if you fell in love with me, you would never speak the Binding and take me as your mate?”
“It’s not that simple.”
He forced himself to remove his hands from her waist and step back. “It’s a yes or no question, princess.”
“You don’t understand. My family, everyone I know … matings aren’t allowed until they’re sanctioned by the family.”
“Allowed?” he roared. “once the Call and the Binding have been spoken, there’s no taking them back. The mating is sealed. You know that, yes?”
“I do,” she conceded. “But being Privileged … everything is different.”
“And I can’t understand because I’m not as good as you?”
She sucked in a breath. “That is not what I said.”
“Prettier words, but basically, it was.” He held up a hand, dread sliding through him in a thick sludge. He’d known when he’d spoken the Call that little could come of this but doom. Damn instinct. “Never mind. Speak the Renunciation and be done. I expected it anyway.”
Frowning, she murmured, “Why?”
“I’m Deprived. Everyone thinks I’m mad. Hardly the sort who deserves a princess.”
With a stomp of her feet and a shake of her head, she railed, “I am not a princess. And I haven’t seen any evidence that you’re truly mad.”
He raised a brow. “But you said yourself, you hardly know me. C’mon, Sabelle. The Renunciation, if you please. Let’s be done with this.”
Biting her lip, she hesitated. “I should.”
“I’m waiting.”
And those words were going to hurt like hell, every syllable ripping out his insides and replacing them with acid. Ice braced himself, eyes closed, head down, shoulders taut. Why couldn’t he have kept his fucking mouth shut? For that matter, why had he tasted her in the first place? He’d been fairly certain what would happen. Now, he’d have to spend an eternity knowing exactly what he was missing. That delectable flavor, the soft sensuality of her kiss, the little catches of breath just before she moaned. Sugary, spicy, so incredibly female.
All gone. Forever.
Suddenly, she touched his arm softly. “You will remain a part of me, though—”
Just as her first words eviscerated him, they ended on a sob. Ice opened his eyes as she wrapped her arms around her waist, looking as if she might burst into tears again.
Confusion and impatience detonated inside him. By God, if she was going to put her brother above his devotion for her, the least she could do was end his suffering. “Now, princess. You know the words. ‘I am no part of you. Ever after, I will not promise myself to thee—”
“Stop it!” She shook her head, golden curls brushing her waist. God, she looked so beautiful … and so confused. Pain contorted her expression, as if hearing the Renunciation agonized her. “No more.”
Ice gritted his teeth, trying to understand. Either she was going to Bind herself to him or Renounce him. Until she did, the uncertainty was only causing her unnecessary pain. And witnessing that was killing him.
“Why won’t you give me the words?” he whispered. “Say them and stop hurting yourself. I’ll keep my distance.”
She remained silent for long moments. Fresh tears welled in her eyes. Even in anguish she looked so damn exquisite he could hardly breathe.
“I can’t.”
Before he could ask why, Sabelle charged at him and flung herself into his arms. She pressed herself against him and sought his mouth with hers. Without pause, he opened to her. Was this a yes?
Hope slashed into his heart, hacking at his defenses and good intentions like an ax. God, the witch had become everything to him in the span of a few hours.