The back door the staff uses for the palace's deliveries creaks open, and Kyron and I cringe before tiptoeing through the dark kitchen to the dining room. The last thing we need is someone reporting to the king how we stumbled in together hours before dawn.

We enter the main banquet hall, and Kyron motions for me to follow his lead. Pressing our backs to the wall, we skirt the outer perimeter and move toward the entryway. He places a finger to his lips and cranes his head around the corner. When the surrounding rooms appear silent, he moves into the wide hallway and heads for the foyer. We reach the front of the palace and creep up the first step of the imperial staircase.

The steady beat of boots on the polished floor echoes from the drawing room, and we sprint to the first landing. I break one way, heading for the visitor's quarters, and Kyron moves toward the stairs leading to the royal bedrooms.

"No, no," I whisper, grabbing the back of his jacket. "There are too many guards stationed that way."

Kyron stumbles back and I stifle a giggle with my hand. Fighting a laugh of his own, he grabs my wrist and pulls me up the last flight of stairs.

"You could have warned me of your plan ahead of time," he says, eyeing the doors we pass.

"I didn't expect this to be a crazy covert operation. I thought I was just walking with you to your room."

We turn at the end of the corridor, and two soft voices carry from the other end. Kyron franticly searches the hallway and pulls me behind the thick, long drapes. He pushes me back until my spine flattens to the window and the front of his body aligns with mine. His forearm rests above my head and he closes the distance between our faces, whispering, "Communication is key to any operation, princess. If you would have told me you wanted to go to my room, I would have happily obliged."

"Who's there? Show yourself," says a guard.

Kyron stiffens, and I tangle my fingers with his. "Shadows," I command.

The dark clouds slide over my palm and down my arm. I pull, willing his gift to change to the surrounding colors. Greer once described the way I can use Kyron's shadows to cloak like a strange ripple in the atmosphere. Not perfect, but good enough to hide us from the unsuspecting eye.

The guards stomp toward the window and pull back the curtains. I peek over Kyron's shoulder as they look around, turning in a circle. The confusion on their face is priceless, and I press my mouth to Kyron's chest to keep from laughing.

"I swear I heard—"

"You have to stop drinking before duty," the other guard says, releasing the drapes. He marches away, mumbling his disapproval, and his partner's hurried footsteps trail after him.

Kyron chuckles. "Remind me why you waited until now to camouflage us?"

I shrug and step under his arm, releasing his gift from my hold. "Where is the fun in that?"

He falls in step next to me, and we walk to the door at the end of the hallway. Leaning on the doorframe, he looks at his boots. "Tonight was the first time I've done something outside of Basecamp that was normal." He looks up at me, his hair threatening to fall into his eyes. "I didn't expect wife hunting to be so much fun."

I smile and match his stance on the other side of the doorway. "I had fun too. It's one of those nights I wish would never end."

"We still have a couple more hours until the palace staff makes their rounds, and I told you I would happily oblige taking you to my room. And..."

I lift a brow. "And?"

"I hate to see it end as well." He turns the handle and swings his door open. He tilts his head toward the inside of the room. "Stay for just a little while."

I don't need to weigh my options; I know what I want. This has been one of the best nights of my life. There were no expectations of me or people watching my every move. It was just me and Kyron being ourselves and enjoying the other's company. I can't pass up the chance for a few more stolen seconds.

"Just for a bit," I say, stepping inside.

His cozy room reminds me of a lavish version of my quarters at Basecamp, with rich dark woods and plush furnishings. Journals and papers litter the round breakfast table, outfitted with two black and red striped upholstered chairs, and a fire crackles inside the hearth in the corner. The bed is just enough space for him to roll to his side and a fluffy ivory and scarlet blanket adorns the top.

Kyron takes off his jacket and places it on the coat rack by the door. "Make yourself comfortable. I'm going to remove the glass from my eyes."

He disappears into the washroom, and I sit on the edge of the bed and remove my shoes. The damn things started acting like torture devices hours ago, but I wasn't about to return to the palace until it was time. After rubbing my aching feet, I reach for the pins in my hair and sigh as the waves cascade over my shoulders. I lay back on the mattress and close my eyes, scratching my scalp. Tonight was one of the best nights of my life, and this bed only adds to my bliss. It feels like heaven after hours of dancing and walking.

The washroom door opens, Kyron steps out, and I bolt upright. He's slicked his hair back from his face, untied the laces of his black tunic, and his leather pants sit low on his hips. As sexy as all that is, it's his eyes which truly capture my attention—a smoldering sunset backed by the night sky.

Kyron's bare feet pat against the wooden floor and the mattress shifts under his weight. He lays back and tugs on my hair until we are side by side.

We stare at the beams across the ceiling, and I quietly confess, "There is only a day left before you leave and just the thought of it makes me miss you already."

"Does it help to know I'll miss you, too?"

We turn our heads, placing us nose to nose. I search his eyes for any sign he feels obligated to return my sentiment, but I only find truth. "Yes, it does help," I quietly say.

Kyron runs the pad of his thumb over my lips and says, "If I could take you away from all this, I would. I'd be the selfish asshole who keeps you for myself, knowing you are made for something greater."

I raise onto my elbow and push the hair away from his face. "I'd let you."

His eyes flutter closed, and I kiss them, the top of his nose, his cheeks, and his lips. I savor the sweet and spicy taste of him—a reminder of his perseverance and sacrifice. His tongue sweeps over mine, and I press my body closer. My entire being aches to feel every inch of me touching every inch of him.

His hand follows the valley of my waist, and his calloused fingers slide under the hem of my jacket. He clings to me, pulling me to him, and I slip my leg over his lower torso, straddling him. The firm hill at the juncture of his thighs meets my center, pressing against the place I ache for him the most. I roll my hips over his, and the satin of my pants glides over the leather, creating a dynamic sensation.

I love how my body cradles him. His hips between my thighs, the curve of my waist a resting place for his palm, and my lips a warm home for his. And when we move as one, it is like we were made for the motion. We are two puzzle pieces. We each have our own unique grooves and bumps, but when we come together, we create a spectacular image.

Moving my hands under his tunic, I lift the fabric and reveal the soft and flawed skin underneath. "Will you take this off?" I ask, pushing the material higher.

He pulls his shirt over his head, and I place a kiss to the center of his chest. I run my lips over every scar and the tattoo down the side of his torso, taking my time to taste his skin. Drawing from my experience with my own body, I move to his pecs and marvel at the small, hard peaks. With my eyes on him, I nip the firm skin, and he hisses and lifts his pelvis from the mattress.

Feeling and seeing him react to me sends a surge of desire through my body. My center aches for his touch, and my skin pimples at the thought of pressing against his. I sit up and work loose the fine buttons of my jacket. A smile pulls at my lips when Kyron's fingers join mine, working from the bottom. The fabric parts, and he guides it down my shoulders, revealing a lacy undergarment which leaves nothing to the imagination.

He wraps his hands around my ribcage and brushes his thumbs over the sensitive peaks of my breasts. He touches me like I'm something delicate and precious, and it drives me crazy. I remove my camisole and press my chest to his. His skin is warm and the hard hills of muscles in his chest are a delicious contrast to my soft curves.

I could remain content with my skin upon his, but he trails his fingers down my spine and kisses my neck. His breath is warm against the shell of my ear when he whispers, "You feel so good."

My happiness fans into something intense, a desire for a heat that could melt the sun. My hips roll over his, and I kiss his chest, slipping my tongue through my lips and dragging it up his sternum to the hollow of his neck. He is smoke, spice, and salt—a new delicacy I crave.

It is a task to move my mouth from him to say, "I want to make you–"

He captures my lips with his, and his palms slide under the back of my pants, his fingertips sinking into the swell of my ass. The passion in his kiss stokes the flames hotter and hotter until they ache at my core.

I slide trembling hands between us and pull the leather string of his trousers.

"You don't have to do that. This feels good," he whispers, lifting his hips and pressing me down to him.

"I want to touch you. Don't you want my hands on you?"

"Fuck, yes," he hisses as my hand slides beneath the leather and wraps around him.

I'm overcome by desire as my fingers glide over the smooth skin of his length. The way he arches into my touch and sucks in long breaths between his teeth. I want him to feel the fire and delicious ache I feel now, the one which raged to life the night in Micah's office.

I slide down Kyron's body, leaving a trail of wet kisses. He hooks his finger under my chin to stop me. "I'm capable of a great many things, Raelle, but if you take me into your mouth, I'll want more. And I don't know if either of us is ready for that yet."

"My body always feels ready for you," I say, kissing the dark trail of hair under his navel.

"Come here and I'll make you feel good."

"And you?" I ask, crawling up his chest.

"Trust me, I'll be more than satisfied too."

He pulls me into his arms and rolls me under him, settling his hips between my legs. I moan when the hard length of him presses to the apex of my thighs, sliding over my silk pants. His cock is like refined iron, crafted for my pleasure. It glides over me, stroking the ache into a throbbing. Each beat coils deep inside me, twining taunt and threating to snap.

Kyron takes both of my wrists in one hand and holds them above my head. His lips brush against the sensitive skin just below my ear and he whispers, "I can feel how wet you are for me. Do you feel how much I want you, Raelle?"

"Yes," I say, arching above the mattress.

"Did I not tell you this would feel good?" His free hand moves between us, and he captures the hard peak of my breast. He pinches and his hips grind into mine, setting a rhythm which has become just as vital as my heartbeat.

I wrap my legs around him, pulling him closer, and he moans, "Just like that." He tilts his head back, exposing the cords in his neck. His body trembles, and my name rolls off his tongue. The heat of his release marks the satin and leather separating us.

The tightly wound passion in my core snaps, sending me into pure bliss. I ride the sun-melting wave that matches every pulsation of his body above mine. His name leaves my lips like a breathless prayer until it trails off and my body relaxes into the mattress.

Kyron lowers his head to my chest and worships it with a kiss while I run my fingers through his hair.

"Did you?" I ask.

He rocks his hips. Kissing my nose, he laughs. "I told you I'd be satisfied. Granted, it has been years since I've been satisfied by that means, but it's what you do to me, Raelle Mansi."

I can't help it. I'm giddy over the confession. It was my kisses, my body which brought him to this place. I lift a brow and state, "Not the least bit embarrassed."

"Not at all."

I cup his jaw in both hands and place a tender kiss on his lips. No one has ever made me feel the things he does, and I doubt anyone else ever will. What we share goes beyond explanation, beyond embarrassment, beyond what we once thought were our limits.

Once the sun threatens to break the horizon, Kyron and I untangle our bodies and clean up. I pull his discarded tunic over my head, working my way through the material smelling of smoke and pine. When the world comes back into view, Kyron is leaning against the doorway to the washroom with his arms over his naked chest and a smirk on his face.

"I didn't take you for a thief, Your Grace."

I grin and shake my head, sitting on the bed and putting on my shoes. "I'm sure you have an entire office in the bowels of the Hub full of these. I'd say it's safe to wager you can spare one for me."

"I rarely lose a bet."

"I'll be happy to pay up." I say, standing and gathering my belongings.

Kyron meets me at the door and wraps his arms around my waist. "I have a lot of things I would love to collect from you."

"As do I, General." I place a sweet, lingering kiss on his lips.

We pull apart, and his expression grows serious. "I'm having everyone meet an hour before midnight tonight at the tavern in the old square. We will plan our attack and a special operation. I'd like you to join us if you can get away."

"I knew my covert operation maneuvers won you over last night."

"Among other things," he quips.

I open the door and give him one more kiss. "I'm glad I've left a lasting impression."

"Me too."

My chest warms, and I take a step over the threshold. Knowing if I don't leave now, I will just want to return to bed and get lost in him again. "Don't worry; I'll find a way to sneak out. I look forward to seeing you at the tavern."

"Until then,Your Grace."