Tallis parked among a cluster of no fewer than a hundred other mopeds. They were within walking distance of the Johari Bazar. He craned his neck, circling, a frown creasing his dusty brows. “Why pink?”

At least the bitterness was gone from his voice. The longer they were in each other’s company, the more he seemed willing to admit that she was not the woman haunting his dreams. Perhaps he’d spent those miles on the moped reliving her intimate initiation, not cataloging the rifts between them.

“Some believe it is a color of welcome, and that a raja doused the whole city before welcoming the Prince of Wales.” She smiled and leaned closer, as if revealing a conspiracy. “Some think it was simply the cheapest, most prevalent color he could find.”

Tallis smiled, too. “It’s just so very . . . pink.”

“Don’t let the whimsy fool you. There are forts and fortifications everywhere.”

“Are they pink, too?”

Feeling lighter—a welcome return to the rapture he’d offered as a gift—she tucked her fingers into the folds of his shirt. “Some of them. But beautiful things can still be dangerous.”

“Don’t I know it. You know what else I know?”

Kavya shook her head.

“I’m sleeping in a bed tonight. Period.”

“Alone?”

He grasped her lower back and brought their hips together. “Of course not.”

“You think you’re in charge,” she said, her heart speeding. “Here. Kiss my fingertips.”

Tallis did without hesitation, just a brush of warm skin across each tip. Then he stared into her eyes until she was too hot, too tight, too much in need of him. Again.

“So bossy,” he said quietly.

She pulled away but kept hold of his hand. “The bazaar is this way.”

They had more to trade than Kavya had realized. Tallis kept his seaxes, but he was able to exchange the high-quality, decorated leather scabbards for a plainer pair. That and the last of Kavya’s jewelry—her belly-button ring—ensured they could shop for food and clothing without worry.

Tallis frowned and shook his head while adjusting the straps of his new scabbards. They didn’t cross over his back but hung off a simple leather belt. “I just thought it a shame that you had to trade your ring.”

Her blood slowed. She became honey, all sticky, rich sweetness and the unlimited energy that came with it. “It’s just another piece of jewelry.”

But she knew differently, as his gaze intensified. His pupils were small and sharp under the sunlight, which only accentuated the dark blue magnetism of his irises. “Show me your stomach.”

Kavya shivered, but she didn’t protest. She wanted him to see her body, preferably after they’d had the chance to freshen up.

Only seconds passed before Tallis helped unwind the center swath of her sari. His hands were insistent—not educated in the intricate wrapping of her people’s garments, but determined. Folds parted. Layers opened. He probably wasn’t above ripping the cloth if he couldn’t find a polite way inside, and he could do the same to her untested body. She looked skyward, eyes closed, and swallowed. His fingers found her skin. She laced her hands over the backs of his as he rubbed his thumb around her navel.

He bowed his head, watching where he touched. Enraptured. She knew, because she was, too. “I liked kissing you here,” he said. “While you were adorned.”

Kavya caressed up his arms. All that strength and a leashed anticipation was hers. She tunneled her fingertips into his silver-tipped hair. “Me on my own isn’t good enough for you, Pendray?”

“Bathatéi.”

“That’s better.” She cupped his jaw, then his cheeks. She missed touching him that way. She missed being able to feel the twitch of thoughts when they fluttered beneath her palms. “If we’re going to share a bed, we’re doing so with you feeling absolutely blessed to lie next to me. Jewelry or not.”

He offered a chagrined smile that made his expression into the perfect personification of Tallis: cynically good-humored, a little baffled by the world, yet willing to learn more about the mysteries he hadn’t yet solved. For all his wandering and anger, he still seemed genuinely curious about life and accepting of new adventures. He didn’t like the unknown—who did?—yet he sought new experiences with an intensity that suggested he’d be bored with anything less.

“And you, goddess? What will you feel lying next to me?”

She couldn’t breathe, not when he stood to his full, impressive height and stared at her with predatory intensity. She wasn’t his enemy, but she did feel like his prey. “I’ll be scared.”

“You don’t show it often. Being scared.”

“And I won’t tonight either. That doesn’t mean it won’t be true.”

Kavya readjusted her sari. She was speaking the most suggestive, honestly sexual words she’d ever uttered to the man who would take what she’d given no man. The urge to be beautiful for him was becoming an imperative, like eating and breathing.

And why not? Sex was just as elemental.

She took a deep breath. “Hand over the money.”

“You think I can’t haggle?”

“You don’t know how to haggle here, in possibly eight languages. And there are Dragon Kings.”

“Indranan?”

“Of course.”

“Why haven’t we been jumped and beheaded?”

“The ones in hiding don’t want to be found. They live in a metropolis for a reason. Make their living. Stay clear of their siblings. Live to see the next day. Some might be lucky enough to live happily in a pod.” She threaded her arm through his. “Think of it this way. Have you ever been in a bar when you could feel the tension? Where under the surface, a brawl was waiting to touch off?”

“Better to ignore it. Keep drinking and talking.”

“That’s what it feels like here. Indranan keeping their heads down. If you feel that little tickle of awareness, Northern or Southern, you ignore it and move on.”

I’m coming for you, sister.

The words were a memory, not an immediate threat. But he was on his way. He wouldn’t stop. That constant awareness made Kavya more reckless with Tallis than she might have otherwise behaved. Events had moved between them at four times the normal speed, all because she dreaded the next day, the next hour. As long as Pashkah lived, she would carry that fear—and she would try to stay with Tallis.

And after . . .? If she was lucky enough and prepared enough and strong enough to take Pashkah down, would she and Tallis part ways?

Why wouldn’t they?

The next stall sold clothing, which gave Kavya a much-needed means of avoiding thorny topics. “This one,” she said bluntly to the stall owner. The sari was plain cotton, dyed blue, with few embellishments. It bore a striking similarity to the maroon one Tallis had stolen. She still wore it, but it had suffered the rigors of the day. Even a simple change of clothes would make her feel like a new woman.

“And this one.” Tallis held up his choice.

She froze.

No. Not that one.

She wanted to tell him the truth, but it was too terrifying. What he’d chosen was the style of garment a woman wore when she was ready to commit fratricide. When she was ready to claim the other half of her Dragon-given gift. How could she explain the significance of an outfit that blended seamlessly with the market stall’s other vibrant wares?

I can’t buy that, Tallis, she’d have to say. It would set the future in stone. I would be obligated to kill Pashkah. I would take his mind into mine. I would go really, truly mad—beyond logic or redemption.

I would lose you.

Instead she forced a harsh laugh and turned back to her simpler choice. “That’s practically a costume. Better suited for belly dancers.”

“So? You already know I’ve thought about your belly. If you aren’t going to wear jewelry there, the least you can do is give me an unobstructed view.”