Page 55 of Hollow Court

When we talked, Davin would alternate between teasing me and scrutinizing my responses, everything he did far more intentional than he openly admitted. It was no different here.

He explored my body with his lips and hands, carefully, deliberately, gauging my reaction each step of the way.

I didn’t know what I was doing, but I did know that we still weren’t close enough. The way my blood raced through my veins made me feel like we wouldneverbe close enough.

My hands moved to the top button of his shirt, as if of their own accord, and he halted in his ministrations.

His dark eyes latched on mine, my name escaping his lips on an exhale. He said it like a warning.

I sat up, forcing him to ease into a more upright position. “You don’t want–”

He pressed a finger against my lips, cutting off my words.

“Of course, I want,” he assured me. “Stars, Lina, sometimes it’sallI want. But this isn’t something you can just take back.”

I hardly heard him over the racing of my heart, but I knew he was right.

Other girls at court had been less concerned about that, but…my uncle was already arranging another marriage. There were expectations from him, and from my future husband.

Then there was Davin, with his bee-stung lips and his disheveled hair and his hooded eyes looking at me like I was the most perfect thing he had ever seen.

Indecision warred within me. My silence was apparently answer enough because Davin backed away, kissing me on the forehead.

“Do you want me to go?” he murmured against my skin.

No.

“It would probably be for the best,” I said instead, hating myself for every proper word.

He nodded, opening his mouth like he was going to say something before closing it again. Then he was gone, leaving an empty silence in his wake.

Empty but for the furious beat of my heart, each thud an accusation, a fresh wave of regret.

I stood to pace the room, trying to make sense of my racing thoughts.

I thought of Iiro looking me over like a prized mare before deciding who might deign to accept me as their bride.

Then Davin, his voice echoing in my head.

Haven’t you ever wanted more for yourself?

Sometimes it’s all I want.

I was so sick of thinking, sick of constantly doing the right thing instead of being allowed tofeel, to think about what I wanted for a change.

And what I wanted was Davin.

My feet moved before I could second-guess myself, carrying me down the passageways to where I knew I would find Davin’s room.

He answered at the first knock.

“Lina–”

“I don’t want to take it back,” I told him. “I want to take it for myself.”

TWENTY

Davin