The Warrior King (Inferno Rising) by Owen, Abigail (reading a book txt) 📕

His eyes crinkled at the corners. “Not if it’s about kraken sex.”

Meira buttoned her lips against another wave of laughter. He must’ve seen how close he was to sending her back over the edge. “Come on.”

He reached for her hands, but Meira pulled back, staring at his wrists. Samael had removed his leather gauntlets, and the skin underneath was…

Without thinking, she reached out and smoothed her fingers over the ridged, uneven skin that had been badly burned at some point in his life. So badly even shifter healing couldn’t remove the scars. The only part of him marked by trauma. “What happened?” she asked quietly, still touching.

“Remember that fire that took my family?”

“You tried to get to them?” The ache of his pain wrapped around her, seeping into her bones. She knew that kind of grief. “I’m sorry.”

What would he do if she kissed the scars?

“Me too.” He pulled away from her touch before she could give in to the urge. Then he got them both up and wrapped her in the blanket—keeping his gaze strictly on hers, she noticed this time. She hadn’t paid much attention earlier, too consumed by her physical condition.

Meira didn’t do the same when he turned away to grab another blanket for himself. The studious part of her mind appreciated the perfection of his form—lean and muscled and well balanced. No one part of him overpowering the other parts or underdeveloped. Delicious bronzed skin covered in rough black hair only shouted his masculinity.

“Ready?” he asked.

She jerked her gaze to his. “I should probably get dressed.”

“Your clothes are still soaked.”

She went to an old-fashioned armoire standing at the foot of the bed and started digging through it. “Kas left in a hurry, so I bet she left clothes behind.” She grimaced. “Nothing for you, though. You should probably put yours in front of the fire to dry faster.”

Then she frowned, because the armoire was empty. “Nothing.”

“No luck, huh?” he asked from behind her. “I’ll put your clothes with mine.”

She barely heard. The more she thawed, the more urgent what they needed to do next became. “Where are my pants?”

“What?”

“My pants. I saw a satellite setup as you ran me up to the house. I need my tablet.”

Samael grabbed them from where he’d placed them by the fire and tossed them to her. Quickly she fished the folded device out of the leg pocket where she kept it. Good thing she’d slept in her clothing.

Unfortunately, the thing had been through two soakings. It wouldn’t turn on. “Dang,” she muttered. Then moved into the kitchen, fishing through containers.

Found it.

A bag of rice. She dumped her tablet right into it and then set it by the fire, but not too close.

“Rice?” Samael asked dubiously.

“Don’t knock it. It’s a hack that works. Let’s hope it saves my tablet.” Holding her blanket tight around her, she stood and looked around the room. “We should look around the place. If Kasia had a satellite hookup, she probably had tech.”

Unfortunately, a search turned up nothing except a hidden wall panel that, when slid back, showed a bunch of exposed wires. Someone had been here.

What next?

Her sisters. They should touch base. No doubt Kasia and Skylar would both be awake. Skylar would be wigging out with the new arrivals, whom Meira had sent directly to her via the mirror in her bedroom. Which meant waiting for dry clothes was out. She’d have to do this wrapped in a blanket, unfortunately with Samael at her side, feeding her fire.

She’d barely been able to get them through to Kasia’s cabin, even with his help. Hopefully this worked and they didn’t have to wait for her to recover fully. That would not go down well with her sisters at all.

Meira moved back to the armoire and closed door to stand in front of the narrow, inlaid mirror, then turned to Samael and held out a hand. “Let’s get this over with.”

His gaze ran over her form wrapped in the blanket, and desire—heavy and real—touched her more in that one sweep than when she’d been pressed up against him, skin against skin, leaving her pricklingly aware.

“This should be interesting,” he said. Then stepped closer. Rather than take her hand, he tugged the blanket up in a few spots, covering more skin. “There. That’s more…respectable.”

Meira clutched it tighter. Either that or drop the blanket and beg to go back to earlier when she lay pressed to his body and ruined the moment with jokes about kraken sex.

Thankfully unaware of her thoughts, Samael took her hand then lit his fire, the dancing black-tipped flames flowing over him to her, warming her better than any puny burning logs in a fireplace ever could. Meira took a second to close her eyes, absorbing the power he gave so freely. Steady resolve fed through the connection. Both previous times, they’d been in a rush. Right now, selfishly, she wanted to indulge in the way the heat touched every part of her, sank into her skin, and traveled through her veins.

The sudden need to know he was going to be okay, always, shook her to the core, setting up a trembling inside her. Because, somewhere along the way, this man with his loud emotions and his walls and his faith in a fate she couldn’t see had become important to her.

Oh gods, she was going to lose him soon. Once they found Gorgon and got to Ararat, and she took up her new role as the queen and he was back to being her captain…

“Mir? You okay?”

She snapped her eyes open. “Mmm-hmm.”

On that witty and succinct explanation, she reached for her own power, pulling up a new image in the reflection even as a draining sensation immediately sucked at her, exhaustion winding itself around her. She couldn’t let herself want impossible things.

Luck was with them and Skylar was in her rooms with Ladon, sitting in front of the mirror with a chair drawn up, elbows on her