For once, she’d love to hear a male say, “I’m going to do you a solid—not because of what you can do for me in return or what you can give me—but simply because I like you.”

Was Thronos so different from Felix? Thronos wanted offspring. Felix had hungered for power.

Both of them sought something from her; yet neither truly cared about her. They only saw what she could give them, how they could use her.

Which she didn’t care about, because she had a plan to get her back to Rothkalina: beguile Vrekener. Afterward, she’d never have to see Thronos again. “Come on, don’t be a killjoy. You’ll scent anything that comes near.” When he made no move, she said, “I think you don’t know how to have fun.”

“Why would I be versed in something I haven’t experienced since our last day together?”

She frowned at that. How . . . sad.

But she wouldn’t dwell on it when fun was here to be had now. “Thronos, we might not make it out of Pandemonia alive. We should have died multiple times over the last few days. These things remind me . . .”

“Of what?”

“You’re bound by your sacred duties—and I’m bound by mine.”

“This I must hear.”

“I’m bound to show gratitude for every second of life I’m given by enjoying it to the fullest. Why should the gods—or fate or whatever—grant you more of these precious seconds if you waste the ones they’ve already provided? It’s exactly like—are you ready for this?—GOLD. There’s only so much of it to be had. Sorceri believe The End of the Ore will come one day. But life can be shiny and savored and glorious until then.”

He raised his brows. “Shiny.”

“You squander the coins you’ve been given. In my eyes, you’re more of an offendmenter than I am.”

“How do I squander them, then?”

“Your mind is always in the past.”

He scowled. “You’re as mired in the past as I am.”

“Maybe, but I usually recall good memories. Like how much fun we used to have playing in that meadow together.”

Thronos rose to pace that limb. What was he contemplating?

She probed, but found his shields up. Fine. She turned from him, determined to enjoy Zero-G, and its upskirt rain, all by herself.

She spied a leafy branch that arched down beside a smooth trunk, heavier streams of water following it, making a shower head of sorts. She wished she could shuck off all of her clothes and finally take the shower she’d been longing for—

A bubble burst against the back of her head.

With a gasp, she whirled around—and caught another bubble against her arm.

“Thronos!”

He was using a wing to wave them over to her, because he was playing with her, having fun.

She gave a cry when another hit her chest, cool water trickling behind her breastplate. And once those delicious drops trickled down, they traveled right back up her body.

She opened her arms wide. “Give it your best shot. I’ll bet you can’t hit me”—she pointed to her navel—“here. Oh, wait, I forgot, Vrekeners don’t gamble.”

“I’ll enter into another wager with you. If I hit your target, then you have to remove your breastplate.”

He was certainly getting the hang of flirting. “And if you don’t?”

“You have to remove your breastplate.”

Her lips curled. “I think I’m going to have to teach you the finer points of wagers, demon.” For once, the word didn’t seem to bother him; of course, she’d all but purred it. “Honestly, I would love to take it off, would kill to bathe under that tree limb’s cascade.” She hiked a thumb in that direction. “But we’re back in the same boat as before. How can I be sure you won’t lose control?”

“Melanthe, you want to be naked for me.”

This authoritative side of him was kind of hot. “Do I?” She sounded completely unsure, even to her own ears. Maybe they could just play tonight—taking the edge off their need. They didn’t have to go further.

Surely premarital sex was an offendment Thronos would never commit, no matter how worked up they got. I’ll breed no bastards.

“You told me that if I got you to safety, you would show me anything I wanted to see,” he said. “I got you to safety, and I want to see everything.”

She arched her brows. Sexy Thronos. And a promise was a promise, right?

Lanthe shouldn’t want to take off her clothes for him, but he was right; she did. She wanted him to see her and desire her. She wanted to experience his reaction as he beheld his mate for the first time.

If simply holding hands with this male had nearly brought her to the edge . . .

At that thought, she reached for her breastplate, eager to have it gone. As she had in the temple, she gave him her back while she unbuckled the piece. Tugging it off, she tossed it away, then started on her skirt, unfastening the hidden hooks. With a swish of her hips, the garment dropped, pooling at her feet.

Leaving her in a black thong.

She grinned when she heard his wings shoot open with a snap.

Draping an arm across her br**sts, she craned her head around to find him crouched, body tensed. His horns had straightened. There was no mistaking it.

Just as unmistakable? Her response. As her gaze followed those proud lengths, her ni**les hardened and the folds of her sex grew slick.

“Your panties too,” he rasped. The pulselines on his wings were glowing brighter and moving faster than she’d ever seen them.