The Empire (The Lover's Opalus) by Grayson Reyes-Cole Page A

confessed.
    “Darkness lives in us both.”
    “Yours is not like mine. Taritana and Valor are right to want to protect you and Rucha from me.” When Lanus started to argue, she plunged forward. “There are some moments when I feel as if I am not even of the Empire.”
    “You are–”
    “No, please, you must listen to words I have never had the courage to speak. I am not unaware that my way is strange amongst the controlled and powerful royalty of the North. Sometimes I thirst for confusion and conflict. Mayhem.”
    His eyes were on her lips as she spoke. Those invisible sparks rolled off him like lava. His body grew hard against hers and Raeche wanted to take him into her, to consume him–her desire and love were so strong.
    “Thirst for me,” he rasped.
    She did. The Emperor took her into his arms. He let his lips ravish hers, a low groan at the back of his throat signaling his failure at resistance. When Raeche believed she would choose death over ever being parted from Lanus, she broke the kiss and clasped his hand. She appealed to him: “Place your hand here.” She drew his large hand to her chest. “Perform the Amu’Wey.”
    Lanus jerked his hand back as if burned. “Are you insane, Raeche? Spirit curse me but I already knew you were. I will not.”
    “Say it.” She grabbed for his hand again.
    “You are taken with the Spirit of Madness. No one has performed that primitive rite for more than a thousand generations. If I say it and you do not love me you will die. If I say it and I do not love you, I will die.”
    “Other-Spirit! You think I am trying to kill you.”
    “ And yourself, Empress.”
    Raeche pushed away from him then stood, drawing her gown around her shoulders. “The Amu’Wey has been said. Taritana told me. In secret, couples have said it. They have survived when they loved.”
    Lanus clasped her shoulders, shaking her a bit before pulling her down to his body once more. “What you and I feel is not love, Raeche. Your tantrums and pranks are bids for attention, but they are not love. My inability to resist your considerable charm is not love. It is the Spirit of Folly, of Lust, of Obsession.”
    “You are speaking again and your words are meaningless to me.” She pulled at his neck until his eyes were level with hers. She pressed her lips to his once more then reached to place her hand against his belly, beneath the loose waist of his soft chamber pants. His hand snapped tightly over her wrist before she could claim her prize, but Raeche pressed forward so their hips collided and she found the thickness that proved the stakes had been elevated.
    So fearful he would not respond or, worse, send her away, Raeche held tight, reveled in the feel of his hard body against hers, of the intoxicating shards of heat showering over her.
    “Shhh, little one.” He kissed her softly and shifted her on his body. “Shhh. If you do not slow, you will make me repeat the mistake I made with you nearly five rings ago. You must–”
    “No! Please do not send me away. I do not know what is wrong with me but I cannot stop thinking about you, about this. I ache for you, Lanus. Spirit help me, I do. Tell me what you like, what you want me to do. I cannot go on like this. I am burning, Lanus.”
    “But do you truly burn for me?”
    “Yes.” She rolled him onto his back and sat atop him. “Yes.” She had done this once with Galan, aroused at the thought of being on top, but then she had worried she was too heavy for him. Had found that, yes, her knees were too close when they touched either side of his hip. With her husband, her husband in his form, she did not worry. She laid a hand on his chest. Felt his heart beat.
    When Raeche lifted her eyes to his, she felt drawn in, spellbound. Anxious in her belly. Unsure. Like less-than clinging to more-than. She knew that greater bowed to lesser this day and it overwhelmed her. “My Lanus,” she whispered. She had been bound by those eyes so long. She