The Offering (6 page)

He was still on his knees before me, and this time when his hand curved around the back of my neck, it had nothing to do with the necklace. He drew me forward, and I followed his lead, my knees parting to make a space just for him. He studied my face, the way he always did, as if he couldn't get enough of it, and I felt restless beneath the intensity of his stare as everything inside me went fluttery and molten all at once.

When those perfect lips finally touched mine, so gentle and persuasive, my head whirled. I was both shocked and amazed that, even after all this time, he still had the same effect on me.

My fists clutched the soft folds of his shirt as I tugged him up from the floor until he was buried between my knees. I wrapped my legs around him. I needed him to be closer, and I drew him back with me, shifting to make room for him on the settee. But there was hardly enough space for the two of us, and we became entangled together on the too-small sofa.

I told myself I was doing this for Max, that this was a good distraction to keep his mind off what had happened today—the box, and worrying about Xander. But it wasn't long before all I was thinking about was me and Max, and how I could get closer to him.

I groped his buttons, my grasp clumsy, and I felt the fabric tear. Still, I didn't stop until I'd stripped his shirt away and it was lying in a rumpled heap on the floor. I needed to touch him, and my fingertips outlined each sinewy muscle of his shoulders and arms, running the length of his back. I'd changed out of my training armor, and now there was just the thinnest of cotton blouses keeping us apart. It was a poor barrier.

I pressed myself against him as close as I could get, basking in the feel of his skin so close to mine. My fingers sought his, and when I found them, I clung to him. And still we kissed, our tongues testing each other . . . delighting in the sensation, the movements, the longing.

I arched my back, my entire body aching to be one with him. Max groaned into my mouth as his teeth bit into the tender flesh of my lower lip. “Charlie, stop,” he gasped. “Just . . . stop for a minute. There's no door on the chamber. Anyone could walk in at any moment. Zafir . . . he knows exactly where you are. . . .” His words trailed away when I lifted my hips again, intentionally trying to distract him from his train of thought.

I didn't want to be rational, not when every part of me was begging for more. To be impulsive and reckless, and wild and imprudent. Right here, right now, door or no.

Max wanted it too. I knew he did.

And then I heard him howl. He shoved me away from him, his face a mixture of anguish and confusion.

My breath coming in sharp gasps, I blinked several times. “What's the matter?”

“What do you mean
what's the matter
?” he accused. “Why would you do that?” He rotated so I could see what he was
talking about, showing me the angry red marks on his shoulder.

Scratches.

I glanced down at my fingers and saw his blood on my nails.

“But I . . .”
I didn't do that
, I wanted to finish, but I couldn't bring myself to say the words, because obviously I had.

I closed my eyes as a sensation overwhelmed me, something close to satisfaction.

No
. I fought against myself.
This can't be happening. She can't have this kind of control over me
.

But I knew I was lying to myself, that the line between her and me was blurring. That she was just showing she could still manipulate me if I let my defenses down.

And that's what I'd done. I'd let myself be distracted.

“Max . . . I'm so sorry,” I offered, hoping it was enough, that he wouldn't make me elaborate. “I guess I . . . got carried away.”

He grimaced. “Carried away? Is that what you call it?” He inhaled deeply, and then his shoulders relaxed and he grinned. “I suppose I should take that as a compliment. Is that what you're telling me?”

I groaned at his conceit, but I was glad he was so easily letting me off the hook. Glad he was so willing to believe it had been his
skills
and not something darker and more sinister that had caused me to react so savagely.

He leaned forward and gently pressed his lips to mine, reigniting that spark that had been so jarringly extinguished, and just like that I was under his spell once more. I knew with that kiss that all had been forgiven.

He eased away from me then, ever so slightly. I followed,
moving with him, meaning to settle myself on his lap. I still wanted to be close to him. I still craved his touch, the feel of his skin . . . the beat of his heart.

He grinned down at me as he firmly gripped my hips, setting me away from him and making his intentions clear. “I don't think you should sit there. Not a very good idea at the moment.”

I couldn't help the small swell of arrogance I felt at the fact that I could affect him so tangibly, especially since I could never hide the way he affected me. My skin glowed, from head to toe, awash in the fever Max had stirred in me. I leaned my head against his arm.

When I finally dared a sidelong glance his way, my chest tightened. Max's features were strained as he closed his eyes and exhaled audibly.

My thoughts flashed back to earlier, to what had happened today with the messengers from Astonia. Shame flushed my cheeks as I shook my head. “I'm sorry, Max. You're right. This isn't the time or place. There are far more important matters than . . .” I glanced at him again, a different kind of flush spreading over me, and I grimaced. “Kissing.”

Max grinned over at me, his arm dropping heavily around my shoulder. The gesture was chaste, and I realized he was still struggling with his control. “Damn, Charlie. There's nothing wrong with kissing,” he muttered, pressing his lips to the top of my head and sighing. “But we do need to figure some things out. Brook's ready to fire the first shot. She's tired of diplomacy. In her mind the war's inevitable. In fact, to hear her tell it, it's already begun.”

I already knew as much. Despite our differences—or rather, despite the fact that Brook was still keeping me at arm's length—I knew her feelings on the matter. She believed I'd been too lenient when we'd discovered that Queen Elena had infiltrated our country with her spies. The fact that one of them had turned out to be Brook's own father had only galled her more, spurring her desire for vengeance against the Astonian queen.

Now this with Xander . . .

“What do
you
think, Max? Xander was—” I stopped midsentence and corrected myself. We had no way of knowing whether Xander was dead or not. “
Is
your brother. What do you think we should do?”

Max didn't hesitate. He'd already considered this matter. “It's not about whether he's my brother or not. It's not about Xander at all. It's about whether peace can be reached. Xander believed it was possible—”

“But look where that got him.” It was Brook who'd interrupted him, startling me, and I shot upright. I guess my “private place” wasn't as private as I'd assumed it was.

I glanced at Max, who didn't seem to notice that he was still shirtless. He stretched his arms casually across the back of the settee, leaning back as if he didn't have a care in the world, even though we all knew we were discussing whether or not to go to war. “Xander knew the risks when he went,” Max retorted. “Besides, we can't be certain it was really Elena who sent us that message. What if it's a ploy to incite a war between our nations? What if some outside force is behind this?”

Brook strode forward, her boots kicking up dirt as she stomped across the chamber. She plopped down on a stack
of crates, settled on the edge of them and leaned forward, her eyes filled with fervor. “We both know this was her doing, and Xander was a fool to believe that Elena has any integrity. You know it too, don't you, Charlie?” Her eyes met mine, and something about the way she said my name and not “Your Majesty” made me hesitate. I wanted to open up to her, right then and there, about the message, but I stopped myself.

Because I still didn't know where she and I stood.

I longed for us to go back to the way we used to be, to when we were friends and I could trust her to keep me safe.

That wasn't entirely fair, though. We might not be friends anymore, but I could still trust Brook. I knew as much as I stared into her bottomless brown eyes. She was still loyal. To me. And to Ludania.

“Who else could it have been? They were her messengers.” I didn't mention the letter I'd found, the one with her unmistakable red seal.

She gave me a quick nod, and I realized it was a start. Not a smile, but an acknowledgment that she was still with me.

Brook stood abruptly. “That's it, then. My forces have been ready for weeks. I can send word and have units deploying by dawn. We can have our first troops at her border within a day.”

I stood too, already shaking my head, unwilling to accept that this was the only option. I couldn't let others risk their lives when there was still a solution remaining, even if I couldn't share with them what that solution was. “Not yet. Let me have some more time to think.” I looked at each of them, first at her and then at Max. “And I guess I need to start looking for a new place to be alone.”

Max bent forward to retrieve his shirt. “What if we just go back to pretending we don't know about
this
place?” He winked at Brooklynn over my shoulder.

I sighed. “You might as well tell me, then. How long have you known about this one?” I asked, feeling suddenly foolish for ever considering it private in the first place.

It was Brook who chimed in first. “There are no secrets around here, Charlie. You should know that by now.”

I spun to face her, trying to decide which bothered me more, that everyone knew about my underground hiding spot, or that she might be right. That nothing could stay hidden inside the walls of the palace.

My tongue was dry and I swallowed hard. I hoped neither of them knew what I'd found hidden in the bottom of the box. Hoped neither of them knew about the letter from Queen Elena . . .

And the proposal she'd made me.

“Charlie.” Max's voice emerged from the darkness, and I halted, my heart crashing hard against my ribs.

When he reached me, the pale light coming from my skin made it easier to make out his outline. The way his feet were planted and his arms were crossed. His already dark eyes were made darker by the murkiness of the subterranean passageways.

“You scared me,” I accused. “I thought you and Brook had gone. What are you still doing here?”

“You shouldn't be wandering around down here alone, even
if Zafir does know where you are. I figured I'd wait for you, walk you back. It'll give us a chance to talk about Brook, and what she's suggesting. She's just upset, you know. We all are after . . . after that message Elena sent.” He frowned, but suddenly the letter from Elena felt incriminating and I worried that Max knew I was keeping it from him.

I glanced away. “You didn't have to wait. I'm fine. Really.”

But Max crossed the space between us. “Don't bother, Charlie. Today's been anything but fine.” He slipped his fingers through mine. “So what was it? Something happened. Something you're not telling me.”

I had to remind myself he had no way of knowing how fast my pulse was racing, and I hoped my palms weren't a sweaty mess against his. But I knew that the sparks beneath my skin could just as easily betray me. “It was nothing—” I tried, but Max interrupted me.

“Charlie, I can't make you tell me anything.” He chuckled and tugged my hand, bumping my shoulder against his arm. “I've never been able to make you do anything, but I feel like you're keeping something from me. I wish you'd trust me.”

“Trust.” Right now I hated that word. I didn't want to lie, but I couldn't tell him the truth. The fact that it was Max only made the situation worse. I hated lying to him, especially after everything we'd been through and all the secrets I'd already kept from him. Just when he'd finally started believing in me again, I was about to stand here and shatter that trust. “Nothing. I'm just worried, is all. The idea of going to war, of putting Ludania at risk like that, it . . . well, it makes me ill.”

Max's eyes narrowed as he studied me, his brow furrowing. “Is that all?”

I sighed and leaned against him, burying my face in his chest. He probably thought I needed his strength, but really, I couldn't stand to face him any longer. “Isn't that enough? You know I'd do anything”—I choked on the word, because that, at least, was the truth—“
anything
to keep Ludania out of war.”

“I know,” he said, his hand finding my back. And he stood there stroking me like that, unaware that he was comforting me because I was a complete and utter fraud. That he was making
me
feel better for lying to
him
.