Gilded Serpent Danielle Jensen (i can read with my eyes shut .TXT) 📖

her waist, to slide down her hips, to lift her into his arms and hold her in place as she wrapped her naked legs around him. As though the gods themselves had constructed them to fit together like pieces of a puzzle.

Killian was meant for her. And she for him.

His lips trailed from her mouth to her throat, and she tangled her fingers in his hair, hearing the rapidness of his breath, each ragged exhale ratcheting up her need for more. To have everything. And to give everything in return.

He carried her to the bed, slowly lowering her until her back pressed against the furs, his shirt sliding up her thighs as he kissed her collarbone, then moved down until the neckline of the shirt stole a growl of annoyance from his chest. Reaching up, he caught hold and pulled, sending buttons flying everywhere. A gasp tore from her throat as the fabric fluttered down against her breasts, her sternum and navel rendered bare.

Killian pushed himself back, the muscles in his arms standing out against his skin, his eyes roving down her body. With anyone else, she would’ve cringed beneath the scrutiny, but his gaze only turned her body to liquid, her head falling back against the bed, her back arching as his fingers brushed the fabric of his shirt away from her breasts.

Then his eyes locked on hers. “There isn’t a woman in the world more beautiful than you.” He lowered his head to kiss her lips softly. “No one more perfect.”

You aren’t perfect, an ugly voice whispered from deep in her thoughts.

But the voice was driven away as Killian’s lips moved downwards; his tongue teased the tip of one breast and then the other before he continued his descent. She writhed beneath him, digging her fingers into the muscles of his shoulders, trailing her nails down his back, a smile rising to her lips as he groaned, his breath hot where his lips pressed just below her belly button.

You need to tell him.

About Malahi.

About you.

You need to stop this.

But the thoughts seemed distant, because what she wanted was him. All of him. Especially with his fingers trailing lines of fire up the insides of her naked legs, leaving behind prickles of sensation as he kissed the inside of her knee, his cheek rough against her inner thigh.

If you let this happen, you will hurt him.

The thought slapped her across the face, and one word tore from her lips. “Stop!”

She’d meant it for herself, not him, but Killian froze. Lifting his face, he looked at her with concern. “Did I—”

“Malahi’s alive.” She blurted the truth out before she lost her courage. Before her own selfish desires resumed control. “Rufina has her prisoner in Derin. We need to rescue her.”

Tell him the rest. Get it done.

Except she couldn’t.

Killian didn’t speak, only stared at her, horror filling his dark eyes. Then he whispered, “Malahi’s alive?”

“If Rufina’s to be believed.”

“And she’s been a prisoner this entire time?”

Her tongue was too thick, too dry, to speak, so she nodded. “Rufina discovered Malahi was a tender from Serrick. She’s trying to force Malahi to expand the reach of the blight.”

Silence. The awful crippling sort that made Lydia want to scream, Say something!

And then he did, and she wished for all the world that the silence had continued forever.

“Those,” he whispered, pushing away from her, “should’ve been the first words that exited your lips.”

And with one violent motion, he turned away and crossed the room, the door slamming behind him.

 58KILLIAN

Malahi was still alive.

Alive, and suffering gods knew what sort of torment under Rufina’s hands while Killian had been guarding her reptile of a father’s gold mines.

Striding through the building, he ignored Finn as he passed and stepped outside into the growing dawn, boots splashing in the puddles of mud as he went toward the stables. Not bothering with a saddle, he swiftly bridled Seahawk and vaulted onto her back, heeling the mare out of the stable.

Eyes fell upon him with interest as he wove through the fortress grounds, questions rising to lips only to fall away at the sight of his expression. No one attempted to stop him as he passed through the gate and broke into a gallop down the road, heading east as his last conversation with Malahi echoed through his head.

Everything my father touches turns to rot. There is something wrong with him.

How right she’d been. Unwittingly or not, Serrick had been under the Corrupter’s control and no one had seen it.

I did what the rest of you were too gods-damned afraid to do.

And how different would circumstances be if he’d helped her rather than hindered? If he’d kept her safe and alive and queen rather than handing the kingdom back to the Corrupter’s puppet?

If I lose the crown, everything that happens will be because of you. Because of the decision you made in this moment. And any blood that is shed will be on your hands.

Her words resounded through his thoughts like prophecy. He needed to rescue her. Needed to get her back to the kingdom. Needed to undo the damage his own selfishness had caused.

If only he hadn’t gone after Lydia, none of this might have come to pass. Malahi would be Queen, Rufina would have lost her puppet ruler and her power, and all the healers who’d died in Mudaire might well still be alive.

And yet Killian couldn’t imagine having done anything different. Couldn’t imagine having abandoned Lydia to the fate Malahi had forced upon her. Couldn’t imagine having abandoned her to almost certain death.

Lydia.

Images of her flashed through his thoughts. Of her standing her ground against the Anuk. Of her healing the injured on the battlefield.

Of her lying naked on his bed beneath him, her green eyes heavy with desire.

Stop. He dropped the reins, pressing the heels of his palms to his temples, trying to squeeze the image from his thoughts.

But all he could see was her face. All he could taste was her lips on his. All