The resting chamber was blissfully quiet after the storm of noise and desire in the banquet hall. Pyris leaned back on the velvet couch, still burning from the afterglow of their dance. His thoughts were a mess—her scent lingered in his lungs, her voice echoed in his ears, and his body hadn't stopped thrumming since her fingers had left his.
Then the door creaked open.
Lekiza stepped inside like a storm barely holding itself together. Her midnight blue gown hung askew across her curves, a single strap fallen off her shoulder. Her chest rose and fell in shallow breaths, her dark hair tangled from movement and magic—and her eyes…
Her eyes locked onto him like he was prey she'd marked and waited too long to devour.
"Finish what you started, Young Lord," she said. Not a whisper. A royal command.
Then she vanished from the doorway—appearing in a blur right above him.
PAH!
