Argh! How dare Micah confuse her like this, continuing to display genuine goodness. “At least you didn’t leave them our dinner,” she grumbled. “They’d follow us to the ends of the realm then.”
“I did leave them our dinner.”
What? Not their food! Anything but their food. “Here’s a riddle for you. How can you be so nice to strangers while being so cruel to your wife?”
He stopped abruptly, removed the tie around her hands and launched back into motion. “There. Am I sufficiently nice to my wife now?” he asked, a vein pulsing along the side of his neck.
“No!”
They lapsed into silence, panting, breathing each other’s breaths before continuing their trek through the Dusklands. Viori’s thoughts whirled. Why had he freed her from the bond? Was he willing to trust her again? He must be. There was no way he would’ve removed the tie otherwise. And really, despite their harsh words today, she had to admit animosity no longer crackled between them. Maybe because she had possibly, perhaps, forgiven him?
No, no. Impossible. She forgave no one ever. Holding on to your hate protected you from future hurts. Yes?
Perhaps the lack of animosity stemmed from Micah’s newfound understanding of her. A prospect that made her doubly curious about him. What kind of life had he lived?
Though she hadn’t forgiven him—really, truly, she hadn’t—she was no longer certain she needed to kill him for his crimes against her. Or even make an example of him, as she’d done to Laken. She and her children had hurt Micah first, and he had retaliated. Tit for tat. If the situation had been reversed, she would’ve done something similar. Why destroy him for it? And really, there were other ways to neutralize Micah, distracting him from the coming war...
Shivers rocked her. She’d issued the taunt about chaining him to her bed. An idea she liked more and more.
His glare smoldered at her as he helped her jump over a fallen log. Heart racing, she nibbled on her bottom lip. The fun they could have...until he discovered her familial tie to Kaysar.
Ugh. Would Micah think to use her against her brother? Her life for Kaysar? Or did Micah think to sway her loyalty? Something he could never do. Right?
They marched on. “Are we there yet?” she demanded.
“You are that eager to enter a cell?”
“Ha! You won’t imprison me.” At least, despite everything she had serious doubts. She traced her gaze over his sculpted backside and licked her dry lips. “So thirsty,” she said with a moan. “I want to drink and drink and drink and—” A gasp escaped her as he pivoted, already holding their canteen to her lips.
Viori swallowed the crisp, fresh water, the delicious liquid soothing her dry throat and parched tongue. No matter how much she drank, the container always refilled. She figured Cookie had offered the precious gift as a constant reminder of the plan: learn where Micah held his army of trolls and win an oasis.
As he pulled away, Viori wiped her mouth with the palm of her hand. Their eyes met, connected. The smolder. The simmer. They never faded, only increased. An electric charge filled the space between them.
Most times, he’d have looked away and moved on at this point. But here and now... He backed her against a tree. Her heart raced faster, like a mortal-land car zooming around a curvy road. Tree bark bit into her shoulders, but she loved the sting as Micah kept coming. He positioned himself flush against her, hardness to softness, and he never dropped his stare.
Her hands shot to his chest, not to push him away, but to draw him in place. She sank the tips of her nails into his scarred pectorals. “What do you think you are doing, Micah?” Thinking to push her to release her debt to Kaysar with promises of pleasure?
His gaze searched hers. With a silky tone, he said, “I’ve given you time to see me as a provider rather than a killer. Now, I want you to see me as a husband again. What would you give me if I vowed not to imprison you or harm your children again?”
He’d what? “I’d give anything.” The words left her without thought, and she scowled. No, no. “Almost anything.” Think. Maintain focus. He’d opened the door to negotiation over a highly important situation. An arrangement skewing in her favor, perhaps. He just, well, he felt so good he scrambled her brain, ensuring intelligence was beyond her. Maybe if she moved a little...? No! Bad. Big mistake.
“I see schemes in your eyes, Red. You seek to make me your willing slave, no more. Admit it.” He didn’t sound upset by this. No, she detected intrigue. And a lot of it.
Her pulse leaped. “Silly, Micah.” The sweetest aches overtook her; soon, staying still wouldn’t be an option. Not for her. Muscles bunched, preparing to grind against him. “You are already my willing slave. You simply haven’t realized it yet.”