Page 34 of Wings of Ice and Steel

‘Ariadnne… I…’

Whatever Nieve had been about to say faded as Ariadnne wrapped her arms around her, pulling her close. Nieve moulded against her and it was worth every minute she’d spent agonising over whether to allow this or not.

‘You smell like southern spices and sun.’ Nieve’s hand traced her side, a shudder running through Ariadnne’s body in its wake. She closed her eyes, but Nieve’s fingers on the side of her face drew them open again.

The knights pale brows knitted. ‘We should talk. What I’ve been feeling, this pull—’

‘I’m not sure we have time,’ Ariadnne cut her off softly. ‘We should, yes, but I want you, want this, while I can have you.’

Her cheeks burned, Nieve’s pupils blowing wide before nodding, throat bobbing.

‘Okay.’

She took Ariadnne’s lips again, more urgent this time. Unbidden, Ariadnne’s hands teased at the laces that fastened Nieve’s vest, her teeth nipping, winning gasps that sent heat blazing through every inch of her body. She couldn’t stop, not when Nieve’s vest fell open, exposing pale skin—

They both froze as a sharp knock rapped the door.

‘Hide,’ Ariadnne gasped.

Nieve couldn’t be caught. Not like this.

‘Shit.’ Nieve jumped into action, rolling off the bed to slide underneath while Ariadnne stuffed her legs under the blankets.

‘Come in,’ she called, glancing around to ensure there was nothing to give away Nieve’s presence.

A servant entered, breakfast tray in hand.

‘Apologies if I woke you,’ she gave Ariadnne a funny look, assessing her pink cheeks and heaving chest and glancing round the room. ‘Ah… uh, I was instructed to bring breakfast at dawn. Your handler said you were to meet in the courtyard after.’ She placed the tray on the foot of the bed and backed out quickly, as if she couldn’t get out fast enough.

When the room had been quiet for a few minutes, Nieve slid out from under the bed. Being told that Melixanthe was waiting had a similar effect to being immersed in a bucket of ice.

‘Talk about timing…’ Ariadnne said as Nieve pulled herself to her feet. She shot Ariadnne a look that made her insides go doughy before smoothing her tangled braids.

‘Not ideal…no.’ She sucked in a breath.

Ariadnne almost moaned as she began—slowly—to fasten the laces of her vest.

It wasn’t fair.

Nieve took a seat. ‘Maybe this is good—’

Ariadnne snorted. ‘Good?’

‘Okay, not good, but I want to get to know you, Ariadnne. There’s something about you. I’m not sure I’ll be happy with a few stolen kisses.’

Ariadnne’s heart twisted. In reality, a few stolen kisses was all she could offer.

‘I…’ Her words caught. ‘I don’t really do this.’ She gestured between them. ‘It’s not allowed.’

The corner of Nieve’s mouth twitched. ‘So you said, but maybe I could be your exception?’ She nudged Ariadnne with her knee.

Ariadnne’s throat tightened. Gods, she would love that, to explore what was between them and where it could go, but ultimately Nieve would be disappointed. She didn’t know about the curse that rendered her a prisoner. Nor could Ariadnne tell her, in case the Guild found out and decided to silence her.

Frustrated words tangled on her tongue, so she offered Nieve a pastry, winning a quizzical look as the knight took it and placed it back on the plate between them.

‘Tell me,’ Nieve said with a soft smile. ‘What actually happened at your birthday last year?’

A small laugh escaped Ariadnne’s lips at the unexpected nature of the question.