A year after Alina Starkov tears down the Shadow Fold, she is finally able to settle into her peaceful life. There is no more war with Ravka. The Darkling, once her enemy, is now a loyal, protective husband, and a father to their adoptive daughter...
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I ᗯᗩKE TO TᕼE SOᑌᑎᗪ of soft breaths tickling my ear. My eyes peel open slowly, then focus on the sleeping man beside me. Aleksander's arms are curled around my waist protectively, chin resting on the crown of my head. I readjust to get a better look at him.
It takes me a second to recall the events of yesterday. Eventually, the fog of sleep clears. My head falls back onto his shoulder with an unbelievable amount of relief. I hadn't dreamed it. Aleksander was finally free of merzost. His health is slowly improving, and with time, all of it will merely be a fragment of the past.
My eyes begin to close as I settle back into the curve of his warm body, but then I feel his arms slither around me tighter, and I'm on my back before I can even blink.
I gasp. Aleksander grins down at me deviously. His quarts eyes sparkle.
"Someone has energy this morning," I tease lightly, though it can't mask the sound of my pounding heart.
"Do you know what the lack of merzost can do to a man?" he asks.
"I'm afraid I don't know," I say, my voice low and velvety.
"Allow me to show you."
My heart leaps out of my chest when his mouth latches onto my neck with more fervor than he has shown in the last few months combined. He has always known how to pleasure me, but recently, it was more mechanical movements from memory without the passion stitched to it. This is the man at the Winter Fete, desperate for connection, lustful, and wanton. I gasp again. However, the gasp quickly turns into a groan when I hear a commotion from outside. There are hooves clopping and carriage wheels skidding to a stop. I lift myself up to find out what it is, but Aleks pulls me back down, securing his arms on either side of me.
"There's no need. I know what it is."
"What is it?"
"Our guests," he says with a smirk.
"Guests?" I ask, my brow quirking up. "For what?"
"A ball."
My forehead scrunches. He regards my perplexed look with amusement. He loves to be a step ahead of me.
"I don't understand. You've poured all of your time and energy into securing the palace, making sure no one goes in or out, yet now you want to throw a ball?"
"Let's say I am changing tactics," he says. "Being predictable means instant downfall in war. We must march forward, even without my shadow creatures to assist. We must demonstrate our power without the use of dark magic."
Demonstrating power to who?
"So this ball is a ruse to get people here and show them our power?"
