Reign of Darkness (The Prince's Assassin #2) - Ariana Nash Page 0,26

been the most intensely passionate kiss Niko had ever experienced. He wanted that again. Wanted Vasili in his fists, wanted him sprawled backward on a bed, his mouth snarling, his eye ablaze with hatred, and gods, he wanted to fuck the prince until he lost his mind to the feel of him.

Niko tore his stare from Vasili’s and swallowed hard. That damned half-sideways smile the prince was giving him… He fucking knew what it was doing to Niko. And Niko was caught. Hard as iron, there was no way he could hide his arousal. Joining them in the pool was absolutely out of the question. But he sorely needed a bath.

“Lycus!” Yasir called, treading water. “Join us.”

Niko pinned a wooden grin onto his lips. “Right after I’ve tied up the horses.”

Yasir said something lost beneath the sound of the falls. Probably some jibe at his expense. He made it to the wagon and painfully dismounted his horse, then adjusted his trousers and erection, willing the obvious arousal away. What he really wanted to do was take himself in hand, fix that image of a drenched Vasili in his head, and pump until he spent his seed, but by the three, he was a grown man and could control himself.

There was just something about Vasili that fucked with Niko’s head. It’d pass. Then he’d go back there and wash up.

Maybe he’d wait to wash up until Vasili was far away from the pool.

Or maybe he’d get back on his horse and ride away.

Gods, if only it were that easy to escape Vasili. After everything the prince had done, and would do again, Niko should despise him. And he did. But there was also that other side to Vasili, the one who had wrapped Niko around his little finger. The Vasili who had folded himself into Niko’s chair, the Vasili who doted on children and animals, the side who wanted a simple life with simple things, the vulnerable man beneath all that ice. Niko would be lying if he tried to deny he didn’t feel something for that man. The rest of Vasili could go fuck himself, but the hidden prince—he was why Niko was still here, why he’d come this far and why he was still standing with him despite everything he’d done.

Niko straightened and breathed hard, filling his lungs, re-centering himself on the task ahead. Vasili did not control him. Vasili had no power over him. He was just a man with a curse who needed protecting until they could figure out a way of getting Loreen back.

The key to surviving this had to be staying detached, like he’d been on the front line. Block everything off. Fear. Anger. Loneliness. He had to forget all that again. He didn’t need to go as far as being the butcher, but he did need to get the prince out of his head, or this would all end badly.

“Nikolas!” Vasili’s shout rang over the rumble of the waterfall.

Niko bolted from the wagon and darted down the bank toward the beach, where Vasili knelt over Yasir’s twitching body, trying to hold him down. “He collapsed.”

Tremors wracked Yasir. Niko tore off his own filthy shirt, bundled it up, and propped it under the man’s head. He grabbed a stick, pried Yasir’s mouth apart, and wedged it between his teeth. “To stop him swallowing his tongue,” he said, aware Vasili had backed off, giving him room to work.

“What’s happening to him?”

Gods, he sounded genuinely concerned. “Seizures.” The tremors were remarkably similar to those Vasili had experienced in the palace. Niko had known soldiers similarly afflicted. Lack of salt could bring it on, although Yasir had been careful to bring a bag of salt with them. Vital in the heat, he’d said. Some folks just had fits that were never explained. Yasir hadn’t mentioned any such affliction, and he would have, seeing as he’d told them most everything else about his life.

Yasir groaned, his back arched, chest heaving. He opened his rolling eyes, revealing a flicker of something that should not be there.

Niko’s breath caught. He froze. That couldn’t be right. He used a thumb to draw the eyelid back again. He had to be sure.

Black.

But…

Niko snapped his head around to find Vasili looming, his face artificially blank. Oh, the bastard knew.

Yasir thrashed again. Niko grabbed his flailing hand and clasped it between his own. “Hold on, Yasir. I have you.”

Vasili had done this.

He wasn’t sure how, or why, but the black smoldering in Yasir’s eyes could