Letting my eyes drift shut, I brush my mouth against one of her shoulder blades, leaning my forehead against her neck.

I would inhale her in if I could.

“Montes—”

I squeeze her even tighter. Just my name on her lips undoes me.

“Why do you love me?” she asks.

My lungs still and my eyes open. Serenity has turned her head halfway towards me.

Back on the plane I sensed she came close to uttering those very words. And now she wants to explore my feelings for her.

Because she’s trying to figure out her own.

My heart will burst, I’m sure of it.

But I let on none of this.

Instead I press a kiss to Serenity’s cheek.

“Why does anything happen the way it does?” I ask, resting my chin just above her head. “I don’t know. I don’t know why that first night in Geneva, when you entered my ballroom with your father, I couldn’t take my eyes off of you. Or why, in a hundred years I haven’t been able to banish you from my mind.” Now I turn her to face me. “Or why, even after all the ways I’ve changed, I can love you the same way I always have.

“But I do.”

God, I do.

Chapter 36

The King

Because of the attacks, and our quick exits from each territory, we have an extra day built into our schedule and nothing planned to fill it.

If we weren’t at war, and if my enemies weren’t actively trying to attack us, I would show her all around Shanghai. One day, once this is all over, I will take her to every distant corner of our world and show her sights she’s never seen.

But that won’t be today.

I let her sleep until noon comes and goes. When she still doesn’t wake, the old worries begin to fester. That the cancer has come back. That the Sleeper never fixed her. That her exhaustion comes from within.

So, only hours after I’ve dressed for the day, I undress and slip back under the covers. I settle between her thighs, my hands snaking around her legs. And then I wake her up with a kiss.

There is no slow rise to consciousness with my wife. One moment she’s asleep, the next she’s trying to jerk away. I hold her hips in place, enjoying her surprise.

“Montes.” She squirms under me.

My lips return to her. Almost unwillingly, she moves against me, like she can’t help it.

I groan against her core. I’m not going to last much longer like this.

Before she has a chance to protest, I flip her onto her stomach and move up her torso, my chest pressed to her back.

“Mon—”

With one swift thrust, I’m inside her.

Whatever she was about to say turns into a breathy sigh.

“Morning, my queen,” I say against her ear.

My earlier fears concerning her health vanish now that I’m near her.

She relaxes against me, her body pliant beneath mine.

I thread my fingers between hers.

“Say it,” I whisper.

It’s been a demon riding me, the need to hear those words. I sense she loves me, but I want to hear the words from her.

I must hear them from her.

She stiffens beneath me. “No.”

I swear I hear true worry in her voice.

She’s close to cracking.

I nip the shell of her ear.

I will get her to say it.

And soon.

Serenity

Creature comforts still make me feel guilty. I’m not sure that part of me will ever go away. I spent all my formative years as one of the have-nots. I don’t know what to do when everything I ever wished for is in the palm of my hand.

So I only reluctantly spend the day in bed with Montes, who appears to have no problem enjoying his creature comforts.

And oh, how he enjoys them. He hasn’t even let me out to eat, instead bringing our meals to bed. And when we’re not eating …

Like I said, Montes enjoys his creature comforts.

It’s only as the sun begins to set that he lets me slip from his arms.

He watches me as I dress. I feel those eyes, those thirsty, thirsty eyes drink me in.

When I go to grab a shirt, Montes says, “Ah, ah.”

I give him a look over my shoulder. “Unless you’d chain me naked that bed, I’m going to have to dress at some point.”

Give this man an inch, and he will take miles and miles.

He throws the covers off himself and leaves the bed to stride towards me. “Much as that would please me,” he takes the shirt out of my hands and tosses it aside, “I’ll have to save the chains for later.”

Montes heads to our closet and pulls out a dress with black and gold feathers along the shoulders and what looks like armored scales along the bodice. “We have dinner tonight.”

Between the relentless traveling and the attacks, I’d almost forgotten about the hateful dinners sprinkled liberally throughout the tour. We canceled all of the previous ones because they’d been contingent upon the officials of each territory.

“Shanghai’s leaders?” Now I feel doubly guilty for spending a day in bed.

“They’re fine,” Montes says.

My attention returns to the dress.

“What is that?” I say, eyeing the gown with equal bits curiosity and revulsion.

“Armor for a queen.”

Our dinner is being held in an extravagant building with architecture even older than the skyscrapers, the roofs slanted, the colors deep and vivid.

I walk into the enormous main hall on the king’s arm. My dress shivers as I move, the result of all those metal scales rubbing against one another.