The sensation was instantaneous and blinding. It was the sound of a red-hot iron plunging into snow.
For Kassian, it was a wave of pure, agonizing relief. Her mouth was an oasis of ice. The freezing cold of her magic rushed over his tongue, soothing the blistered, burning sensation that had plagued him for weeks. It cooled his throat, numbed the pain in his jaw, and silenced the screaming nerves in his teeth.
For Vera, it was the opposite.
His fire poured into her. It wasn't the destructive heat of a furnace; it was a liquid, golden warmth that flooded her perpetually frozen veins. It thawed the cold ache in her chest that she had lived with for years. It felt... good.
Gods, it felt terrifyingly good.
Her struggles faltered. The hands that were beating against his chest lost their force. Her fingers uncurled, clutching the fabric of his white shirt instead of pushing him away.
Kassian groaned into her mouth, a low, guttural vibration that rumbled through her entire body. Sensing her surrender, the nature of the kiss shifted.
It was no longer just medicinal. It became greedy.
He devoured her. His lips moved over hers with a frantic, starving rhythm. He tasted of wine and smoke and dangerous, unbridled power. His hand slid from her waist to her hip, his thumb digging into her flesh possessively, pulling her so tight that she could feel the hard ridge of his desire pressing against her stomach.
Vera's head spun. The room dissolved. There was only Kassian. Only this overwhelming heat that made her toes curl and her breath hitch.
She found herself kissing him back.
She parted her lips wider, inviting him in, chasing the warmth. Her hands slid up his chest to wrap around his neck, her fingers tangling in his damp, white hair. She pressed herself closer, molding her soft curves against his hardness, a soft whimper escaping her throat.
The sound seemed to snap something inside him.
Kassian growled, lifting her effortlessly until she was straddling his lap, her dress bunching up around her thighs. He bit her lower lip, hard enough to sting, then soothed it with a sweep of his tongue. The friction, the heat, the sheer size of him beneath her, it was intoxicating.
It was escalating fast. Too fast. Vera's heart was pounding a frantic rhythm. She was drowning in him, ready to let him do whatever he wanted if it meant staying this warm.
But Kassian didn't stop at her mouth.
He broke the kiss with a ragged gasp, but he didn't pull away. Instead, he buried his face in the curve of her neck, inhaling sharply like a drowning man finding air.
"Put it out..." he groaned against her skin, his voice rough with need. "Drown me."
His lips trailed down her jawline, hot and wet, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. He found the sensitive spot just below her ear and sucked gently, sending a jolt of pure electricity down Vera's spine.
Vera's head fell back, exposing her throat to him. It was an instinct she didn't know she had—submission to the heat.
Kassian's hands tightened on her waist, pulling her flush against him as his mouth moved lower. He kissed the hollow of her throat, then lower still, until his lips brushed against the silver snowflake mark on her collarbone.
The moment his hot mouth touched the source of her magic, the sensation exploded.
It wasn't just warmth anymore. It was a collision of ice and magma. The mark pulsed violently under his lips, and a wave of intense, shivering pleasure crashed through Vera.
"Ah..."
The sound escaped her before she could stop it. A soft, needy moan that echoed in the silent room.
Vera froze. Had she just made that noise?
The sound seemed to snap something in Kassian, too. Or perhaps it woke him up.
He went still against her neck. His heavy breathing hitched.
For a second, he stayed there, his forehead resting against her collarbone, fighting a silent battle between the primal urge to take her right there on the table and the rational part of his brain that remembered why he had started this.
Then, abruptly, he pulled back.
Kassian tore himself away from her with a gasp, putting a foot of distance between them.
He didn't let her go completely; his hands were still gripping her arms to keep her from falling off his lap, but he looked at her as if she were a puzzle he couldn't solve.
His chest was heaving. His lips were red, swollen, and wet. His blue eyes were blown wide, dark with arousal, but also gleaming with something else.
Success. And a flicker of shock at his own lack of control.
Vera sat there, straddling the Emperor of the known world, her breathing ragged, her neck wet from his mouth, her body thrumming with a heat she hadn't felt in a decade. She stared at him, dazed, her lips parted, waiting for him to say something. To kiss her again. To take her to bed.
Kassian took a deep breath, testing the air. He ran his tongue over his teeth, his expression shifting from passion to clinical satisfaction in a heartbeat.
"Better," he said simply.
Without another word, he reached around Vera's frozen form, picked up his fork, and speared a piece of the roasted duck.
Vera watched, stunned into silence, as he put the meat in his mouth.
He chewed slowly. A look of genuine wonder crossed his face.
"Rosemary," Kassian whispered, swallowing the food. "And... orange zest. I haven't tasted orange zest in so many years."
He looked at Vera, who was still sitting in his lap, her hair a mess, her lips bruised from his kiss, and her collarbone throbbing where he had licked it.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" Kassian asked, cutting another piece of meat. "You can get off now. I need to eat before the heat returns."
Vera's jaw dropped.
The shock was replaced by a wave of cold, sharp fury.
She scrambled off his lap, nearly tripping over her own dress in her haste. She backed away from the table, wiping her mouth and her neck with the back of her hand, her face burning with humiliation.
"You..." Vera stammered, pointing a shaking finger at him. "You just... You kissed me just to eat a duck?"
Kassian paused, a piece of potato halfway to his mouth. He looked at her with genuine confusion, as if her anger was the most illogical thing in the world.
"I kissed you to cool my palate," he corrected, his voice calm and maddeningly arrogant. "The fact that it was... enjoyable... was merely a bonus."
He popped the potato into his mouth and closed his eyes, savoring the flavor.
"Delicious," he mumbled. "Sit down, Vera. Your food is getting cold."
Vera stared at him. She looked at the heavy silver pitcher on the table. For a fleeting, reckless second, she considered smashing it over his head.
"I hate you," she hissed, the words dripping with venom.
"I know," Kassian replied, not even looking up from his plate. He poured himself more wine, now able to taste the vintage. "But you taste like winter rain and salvation. So I suppose we are stuck with each other."
He gestured to her empty chair with his knife.
"Sit. Eat. Or I will have to kiss you again to make sure you have an appetite."
Vera froze.
Kassian looked up, a slow, dangerous smirk curling the corner of his mouth. It was a challenge. A threat. And a promise.
"And next time," he added, his gaze dropping to her heaving chest, then lingering on the mark he had just kissed, "I might not stop at the collarbone."
Vera sat down.
She grabbed her fork and stabbed her roasted duck as if she were stabbing him. She didn't look at him, but she could feel his gaze on her, heavy and hot.
The dinner continued in silence, save for the scraping of cutlery. But the air in the room had changed. It was charged, electric with a tension that was no longer just about survival.
Kassian had tasted the cure. And Vera had tasted the fire.
And despite her anger, despite the humiliation, Vera's hand drifted to her neck, tracing the wet spot where his mouth had been.
She was in so much trouble.