Rayne jumped at the sound of his voice, and Nox enjoyed the flutter of her pulse at her throat.
“Sire.” Korac stood at attention.
His General insisted Nox dress for the occasion and invited the tailors to work their magic. Kings only wore pants or ceremonial wraps. He settled for slacks. Unhappy with wearing a shirt, even for this special evening, he left the buttons undone on the black silk.
Compromise.
As Nox crossed the expansive room, the wardrobe efforts had paid off. Rayne’s wondrous gaze consumed him from the boots up. By the time she reached his eyes, her lips parted and her breathing shallowed.
Nox refused to spare Rayne the same scathing treatment. Devouring every centimeter of her considerable efforts, he admired her approach. The heels were high but sturdy. Reinforced. The dress short for high kicks and the almost undetectable shorts underneath protected her modesty. Cute. She’d tied her hair back to stave his grip. Smart. There was something about her sling as well. Curious. Pride swelled in Nox’s chest at the insignia scar on her face. Rayne could try to cover it up, but it didn’t change what she was.
Sexy. Lethal. His.
“Well, I’ll just excuse myself, and leave you two alone.”
Nox and Rayne both turned to look at Korac as if he’d appeared out of thin air rather than stood there the entire confrontation. “Quite,” Nox granted.
As Korac made to leave, he remarked, “Enjoy your date. I know I will.”
Rayne’s blazing glare made Nox chuckle as she confessed to Korac, “I don’t like you.”
“A tragedy, I’m sure.” And with that, the General departed.
In his absence, an enormous tension filled the room. Nox stared down at Rayne and watched as she pulled her eyes from the door back to him.
Alone.
Unguarded.
What to do next? In a soft rumble, Nox said, “You remembered to wear something outstanding,” referencing their first dance at her school.
Rayne rewarded him with a pretty blush and a slight frown. Uncertainty and confusion marred her face.
Perfect.
Nox asked, “Would you care to take a seat, General?” He gestured to the armchair behind her, only a few shades paler than her complexion. “It should make the negotiations more comfortable.” In heels, she stood only half a foot lower than him, but he knew his physical presence unnerved her. This needed to go well.
Rayne folded her skirt under her as she sat, crossing her legs at the ankles. She frowned as if she’d caught herself staring at him and peered to the sky beyond all the glass.
Nox lounged in the chair across from her and laid one ankle on the other knee. It made her wince, and he frowned. So, the similarities between him and the Icarean traitor never ceased. Nox said, “I’m curious about your demands.”
Rayne clasped her hands together in her lap as she sat forward. “Lift the Filicide Order.”
Right to the heart of the matter. “Now, why would I remove one of the best strategics moves against your big, soft heart?”
Without hesitation, she answered, “Because I’ve since learned the burden of necessity, and I will let those people murder their children to neuter you.”
Well, wasn’t that a turn-on? The brutal warrior Rayne had become under Nox’s design tested his self-control.
Touching her would come after. Keep the priorities in check.
In need for a quick diversion, Nox commented, “Your sling harness is clever, and it’s attractive. But I’m surprised you haven’t cut the limb off.”
Rayne shook her head. “It’s a reminder of a debt I owe.”
He grinned. “Speaking of. I have something of yours.”
Rayne tilted her head and peered at Nox. “Should I be concerned?”
“I guess that depends on your perspective.”
Nox stood. Rayne flinched at his movement. He grinned broader as he went to a desk and retrieved a pile of notebooks. Dropping all six of them on the end table next to her, he relished the recognition dawning on her face. Confusion, realization, horror, and then… Something else. She swallowed hard and faced him. Her expression was open and honest. It wasn’t exactly the response Nox had desired, but it proved intriguing nonetheless.
Rayne said, “I assume you’ve read them.”
“Every last word,” Nox confessed. All her dreams, all her desires, and all about him.
She bit her bottom lip, tantalizing him, as she considered her next words. “I meant every word, and I’ll still kill you, anyway.”
Nox knelt down in front of Rayne so she couldn’t look away. “You keep saying you’ll kill me or end me or whatever lies you tell yourself, but have you ever considered what you’d actually do after I’m dead, Rayne? Once I’m gone. Will things go back to the way they were? You? A fighter, a killer serving coffee to strangers and writing college essays on your lunch break? And what about relationships? You and I know exactly why none of your feeble attempts at romantic adventures have ever worked. The reason you’re still a virgin. You’re saving yourself for me.” Her eyes grew wide, and she let out a whimper as he brushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “You’re a leader. Do you know how few people can ever say they were natural-born leaders? You were never meant for the mediocrity of human life.”
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Now Nox had done it.
Rayne flushed and snapped at him with her pretty made-up face. “Oh, and you’re always so full of promises, aren’t you?!” she accused. “In fact, I’d wager you sleep promises, you even bleed them. You are not one to talk of things gone unfulfilled.” The girl jabbed a finger at his chest as she continued, “Now, I finally get to tell you. Of course, I started to believe you. But as you say if I’m a natural-born leader where does that leave us? Huh?! Am I to take Korac’s place as General of your armies? I don’t think he’d like that very much. Or what about you? Do I take the place at your side and rule what? The world doesn’t need two leaders, and you know as well as I do you plan to abandon Cinder. There are no Icarean queens. Only kings. So where do I fit in? If your logic is that my body is powered by a leader’s blood, then do I lead you?”
Enjoying the fire in Rayne’s observations, Nox withheld an answer.
She stood with him kneeling at her feet. Through gritted teeth, she cried, “ANSWER ME!”
Again, Nox gave Rayne nothing. He stared up at her, impressed with her reason and her strength. And her beautiful rage, always boiling beneath the surface no matter how hard she fought it, had sparked a storm in her eyes.
Rayne said, “I guess all you have to offer is mediocrity, too.” To Nox’s astonishment, she manifested his ring from nowhere and threw it at him.
Snatching it from the air, he considered her words. Nox stood, and they gazed at each other. In a broken voice, she almost confessed, “There was a time…” She looked away, unable to finish.
Nox smelled salt.
Tears.
It was time. Nox walked away from the young girl in love with her tormentor and located the stereo he’d tucked into a bookcase. “Here are my terms,” he said with his back still to her. He started the CD Korac had made for the grand finale. “You dance with me as you did with Sagan, and I’ll initiate a ceasefire.”
During their conversation, Earth’s moon crested in the sky, shining pale light through the glass ceiling. Brighter than the glowing lanterns.
Rayne didn’t hold back, “Remove the Filicide Order, and I require a lock of your hair in return”
He chuckled. “You had better make it one hell of a dance.”
She peered at him for a long time, taking in every inch of him. Under Rayne’s scrutiny, a longing stirred in Nox. An old yearning he thought he’d carved out.
Rayne asked, “Do you ever think of how things could’ve been different?”
Nox raised an eyebrow. “Elaborate.”
“If you hadn’t invaded, killed my parents, and ruined my arm—Nox, if you’d just came to me and told me you needed help to get your people to a safer planet.”
This was a minor shock to Nox’s system. Rayne’s parents were dead? There was no need to bother with a protest. She fully believed he’d killed them.
Focus on the rest.
Nox absorbed her words. Ask for asylum on Earth. Sensible, logical. A safer approach when he so enjoyed destruction and carnage. Not to mention one eighteen-year-old girl convincing billions of humans to comply with Icarean demands stretched even his imagination—
“Nox.” His name left her lips on a prayer. Rayne had approached him during his consideration of her terms. His body knew she drew closer. It responded in kind. She continued, “Where would we be?” The electric blue of her eyes searched him for an answer.
“Do you think on this often?” Nox asked. He allowed Rayne to reach out and place her delicate hand on his chest, searing him. He contemplated her angle.
What more did Rayne want from Nox that brought her this close?
The lock of hair she’d told him forthright she required. She most assuredly carried a weapon on her. His girl was far too smart to come into his camp unarmed. Nox grinned at the thought, but his confusion wiped his smile away. After witnessing her throwing skills, he knew she need not require this proximity to kill him.
So… why?
Nox peered down into his puzzle to find Rayne enraptured in her measure of him. In a heady, feminine voice she said, “You’ve read my notebooks. How often do you think?”
Nox’s frown deepened, her honesty cutting him.
Rayne said, “Not a single night passes that I don’t think of you warranted or not.” A fine tremor traveled from her body. It shook the hand on Nox’s chest. Tears shimmered in her lined eyes. He enjoyed this almost as much as her terror. “I’m giving us a moment. Just one. I want to know what we lost.”
The truth.
Rayne was telling the truth.
Nox smelled it in her scent as it mingled with the salt in her tears and the sweetness of honeysuckle. He recognized the potent cocktail from their fight when he’d pinned her to the lockers and pulled her hair for the first time. He leaned down and pressed his lips against her ear, the loose curled strands of her hair teasing his face. He whispered, “That’s my girl.”
Rayne shivered against Nox, and he breathed in the air around him like a black hole. Greedy for a scent he’d never believed she’d give to him freely. As the tears of her immense desire for him fell from her cheeks, he demanded, “Dance with me.”
On a shaky breath, Rayne said, “Yes.”
The drum intro suited the mood, melancholy and foreboding; something on the verge of deadly with an edge of sexy. Rayne slid her hand under Nox’s shirt and higher onto his chest as they swayed. He took her hand, confusion lending an unbearable fold in his restraint. He spun her away from him on a twirl and brought her back—For the first time, glimpsing the backless feature of her dress. The Icarean script piqued his curiosity while his mind reeled with questions. Strategically, what did she gain from this? Proximity to him must benefit her, but how?
When Rayne took Nox’s arm over his head and locked in a circling dance with him, he suppressed his shock. She’d learned traditional Icarean dancing. Her eyes never left his, locked on, as if looking away would leave her untethered from the world. He held onto her.
The moon cast a white shine into the room, illuminating Rayne better than any lantern. So much so that her pale skin reflected the glow with its own light. She pulled straight from Nox, and when he pulled her back, he turned her around so he could examine the tattoo. This remarkable fighter in his arms was capable of so much more than he’d thought.
Elden’s Verse.
When Rayne looked over her shoulder at him, her black-painted lips parted for a kiss.
Nox couldn’t let her have it. He didn’t know what she wanted with him, yet. He couldn’t allow himself to trust—
Rayne turned and pressed her forehead to his instead. She spun away, and they danced a little longer to the song with her face pressed to his chest.
Maybe…
Maybe she was right.
Nox dipped Rayne, and she bent all the way back. Greedy, he took in her scent in the plunge of her neckline and followed upward as she straightened. Her body’s response to him was as open and honest as her words.
No.
Even if Nox tried, the invasion had already happened, and too much had occurred which he could never take back. And he wasn’t sure he wanted to.
But Rayne meant something to Nox. Unable to say it, he demonstrated it to the best of his abilities in his actions and his time spent on her. But maybe he could show her the only other way he knew how.
Nox kissed the soft skin of Rayne’s chest where her nacre belonged before she straightened.
Regardless of how this war turned out…
As the song closed, Nox resolved himself to consider her terms, seriously, as an equal.
If he lived or died…
She rested against him with her teary eyes closed, her breath soft against his skin. Like this, he could let her in.
She would always be…
“Yours,” she breathed.
Rayne’s love meant the death of Nox.