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“We should consider eliminating him.”
He clenched his fists. “Zoya, you will do no such thing. I forbid it. And if I find you’ve acted without my consent, you will lose your rank and can spend the rest of your days teaching Grisha children how to make cloud animals.”
Zoya narrowed her eyes, stepping closer. “You’re being sentimental.” Her voice was razor-sharp. He was being stupid. He was risking too much.
Nikolai’s jaw hardened. For a second he only stared at her. Zoya met his eyes challenging, refusing to back down. She didn’t doubt that he would make do on his threat, but that had never stopped her before.
For a second he held her gaze, anger dancing through his eyes. But he made no move. Didn’t say anything else. Maybe she had finally managed to leave Nikolai Lantsov speechless.
But then, he did something she didn’t anticipate.
Nikolai suddenly stepped forward and then his lips were crashing against hers, with enough force to make her stumble backward. Zoya tensed for a second, holding onto his arm for support, but her lips parted automatically and when Nikolai’s tongue flicked into her mouth she knew it was over.
The fire of the argument still rushed through their veins, all the frustration they hadn’t released yet. Nikolai shoved her against the wall, ignoring the still unanswered correspondence, never once letting go of Zoya’s lips. Her skin was burning under the touch as he ran his fingers along her neck, through her hair, down her body.
She was on fire. They were both burning alive.
Nikolai pressed her further against the wall, his lips now exploring her neck. Zoya gasped as he sucked the sensitive skin into his mouth, her lashes fluttering shut as she tipped her head back. She felt drunk, delirious with wanting.
This was wrong in more than one way, and yet she couldn’t bring herself to care. Instead, she pressed herself against Nikolai, ignoring the looming threats above their heads, the possible engagement, the fact that this could never be more than a faint dream. And yet right now, it felt all the more real.
Nikolai basically ripped the kefta from her shoulders, spreading kisses across her neck and collarbones. Zoya sucked in a sharp breath when his lips returned to hers, at last, time seeming to stretch into eternity. Who cared about Ravka if she could have this instead.
Nikolai seemed to share that sentiment. He picked her up, allowing Zoya to wrap her legs around him. She scraped her nails across his skin looking for support to hold herself up, or perhaps just to be as close as possible to him. Nikolai bit down softly on her bottom lip, making her moan, his fingers skimming across the skin of her ribcage. He left shivers everywhere in his wake. What was this man doing to her?
She could still feel the tension of their argument in the air, and yet that fact only seemed to make it better. Nikolai didn’t hesitate long to pull the kefta down to pool around her hips, and Zoya found herself growing desperate for more. She clung to his shoulders, pulling him closer, her shoulder blades painfully digging into the wall. Not that she cared.
She whimpered when he kissed along her neckline, quickly biting her lip to silence herself. The door wasn’t locked, and the twins were possibly outside guarding the king. The last thing they needed was Tamar marching in here, looking for a possible threat and instead finding this scene.
Perhaps her thoughts of the twins had been a warning from the saints not to lose her head because just then someone knocked on the door. Nikolai almost dropped Zoya, and it was only her hard grip on his shoulders which held her upright.
“Your Highness?” Genya’s high-pitched voice came from the other side of the door, and Zoya swallowed hard to try and calm her racing heart. Fortunately, Genya was polite and didn’t just burst into the room.
Nikolai gave Zoya a quick look, one she couldn’t manage to read, and then let go of her as quickly as all this had started. She backed away against the wall instantly, bringing some well-needed space between the two of them.
And yet she could feel him everywhere. His lips against her throat, his fingers against her skin… She needed another long breath to clear her head. It was all too much. She fought the urge to run, to get as far away from him as possible.
Since Nikolai apparently didn’t plan on speaking but was still staring at Zoya, his face strangely unreadable, Zoya had to pull herself together. “What?” She snapped towards the door, hurrying to pull the silk of her kefta back over her shoulders while also smoothing out her hair. She doubted it would do any good.
But Genya was already in the room, raising a brow when she spotted Zoya. “A little late for correspondence, isn’t it?” she commented, setting a pack of papers down on the table. “Those came from the First Army commanders,” she said in Nikolai’s direction.
He finally tore his gaze away from Zoya, clearing his throat and nodding in agreement. “Thank you,” was all he said. His tone was strangely absent. Like he wasn’t even in the room with them.
Zoya frowned in his direction. She had never known Nikolai to be anything short of a great actor, and this behavior wasn’t like him.
Genya had apparently noticed the tension in the room as well. “I will leave you to it,” she muttered, with a long look directed at Zoya.
Zoya ignored her, waiting until the door had fallen shut before turning back to the king. Which was when she realized that she had absolutely nothing to say.
So she fell silent, meeting Nikolai’s eyes. She still couldn’t read his expression, a fact she wasn’t used to. What had they just done? Had they really managed to ruin everything they had built over the last years in one moment?
And then his expression changed. There was something distant about him now, something she had only seen in the role Nikolai liked to play in public. But never with her. Never when it was only the two of them.
Perhaps that fact made it only hurt even more.
“About my father,” Nikolai said finally, his voice so cold Zoya had to force herself not to flinch. “you will never mention it again, to me or anyone.”
It wasn’t phrased like a question, but Zoya nodded all the same. “Of course, Your Highness.” She wasn’t planning on bringing any of this up ever again, least of all what had happened after the argument. Nikolai obviously regretted that it ever happened, so she would do both of them a favor and join him.
And yet she could still remember the look in his eyes, the way his lips had pressed against hers… it hadn’t been her imagination. Nikolai might be immune to her looks, but he had certainly wanted her just then. She wasn’t certain if that fact made her feel worse or better.
Zoya quickly turned away, gathering the correspondence they had yet to go through. “I’ll work on these until tomorrow,” she said quietly, suddenly unable to stay in the same room as Nikolai for another minute. The very air seemed to suffocate her. It was as if the ghost of him still haunted her, reminding her of what she had just gotten a taste of, what could have been if they weren’t a king and his general, if their timing weren’t so incredibly off.
Nikolai moved ever so slightly, as if he wanted to hold her back but changed his mind at the very last second, his expression suddenly torn. She had never seen him undecided before. Nikolai Lantsov never faltered. He kept marching on.
Zoya allowed another few seconds to pass in silence, hoping for a sign, a reaction, anything that would tell her that her king didn’t hate her now. That they were still who they had been before.
Nikolai merely stepped back, tilting his head ever so slightly. “Goodnight, Nazyalensky.”
Zoya suddenly felt close to tears. She swallowed them down, lifting her chin to meet his eyes. Her pride didn’t allow otherwise. “Goodnight, Your Highness.” She didn’t dare to say his name.
Zoya felt his eyes on her when she left, and only in the safety of her chambers did she allow herself to cry.