Page 17 of Ashes of Aether

My fingers knit through his dark curls, and I use them to pull him closer. His hand slides up my waist, reaching higher until it comes to my breast. He kneads the soft flesh through the thin fabric of my dress, and a moan escapes me.

I shove his shoulders, and he falls into the scarlet sheets. I straddle him, my pale blue skirts pooling around us.

“It’s late,” he says. “And you’re drunk.”

I run my fingers across his chest, feeling the firm edges of his lean muscles. “You asked to marry me, and now it seems you don’t want me,” I tease.

“I never said I don’t want you,” he says, gripping my waist and hauling me off him. He sets me onto the sheets beside him and leans on his elbow, gazing down at me. His fingers trace my shoulder. “Just that it’s late and you’re drunk. Both of which are facts.”

“I don’t want to sleep.”

“Then we won’t sleep,” he says, pulling down one of my sleeves and leaving half of my chest exposed to the cool night air.

He kisses me there—and then everywhere else. And as he promises, we spend most of the night making love to each other and very little of it sleeping.

Six

IwakewithmyheadrestingonArluin’schest.Crimsonbrocadeblanketsspilloverus,andourbarelegsaretangledtogether.Sunlightfiltersthroughtheopenwindowandsharpshadowssliceacrosstheroom.

His skin is warm beneath my cheek. My fingers trace lazy circles across his chest. One of his arms is tucked around my waist, holding me flush against him. Every now and then he lifts his arm, flicking to the next page of the book he’s reading.

I tilt back my head to get a better look at the cover. But my temples scream in protest, and the pain is so piercing my sight blurs. A groggy fog descends over me. While I have experienced many a hangover, this might be the worst one yet.

I must have let out a small whimper of pain since Arluin asks, “Feeling the wine?” His lips twitch with amusement as he looks down at me. If I felt a lot less awful, I would slap him for his smirk.

“Yes,” I grunt.

“Do you regret drinking so much?”

“No. Never.”

Arluin lets out a gentle laugh and returns to his book.

I close my eyes again, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest. With my ear pressed against his skin, I can hear the drum of his heartbeat. I try to focus on that rather than the pain shooting across my temples.

“If it’s really that bad,” Arluin says after a while, “I have a numbing potion in the top drawer.” He gestures to the counter on his side of the bed. The crystalline lamp there casts a purple glow over the pages of his book.

“You could have said so sooner!”

“You needed to learn your lesson.”

“There’s no lesson to be learned.”

He arches a brow at me. “You passed out. Several times.”

“I only remember the once.”

“And you were dancing on the tables with Eliya so loudly the servers were trying to usher you both out.”

“I don’t remember that.”

“You don’t believe me?”

“No, I do.” Dancing on the tables is something I’ve done plenty of times before with Eliya, and considering how much my head hurts, it isn’t surprising I don’t remember it happening.

Arluin shakes his head as he puts down his book and leans over to the counter. He pulls open the top drawer by its birdcage handle and rummages inside until he finds a potion vial. It’s as small as the one Archmage Gidston gave me yesterday in the arena, but this one is far more decorative. Gold swirls encase the glass, spiraling up to the top where they form a cap. The liquid within is as thin as water and of a shimmering lapis hue.

He passes it to me. The glass is freezing where the potion touches, but room temperature where it does not. I flip back the metallic lid and drink the entire contents in a single gulp. This numbing potion is called Ice Honey, and it tastes as sweet as its name. The frozen nectar slides down my throat, and I can already feel it working. It’s one of the fastest acting potions—and also the most addictive. Small amounts relieve pain, but large quantities can freeze every muscle in your body—including your heart. Overdoses require immediate medical attention, and even then the chances of survival are slim.