Page 28 of Creatures that Breathe

I hold still, arched into him, tongue snug against my teeth, marveling at the lazy pinpricks of water hissing into steam on my face.

He’s burning me. Waves of dry, callous heat scald my cheeks, bring tears to my eyes.

Abruptly, I realize I want him to kiss me.

It feels wrong.

Incredibly wrong. I can’t stop it. Cross. Kissing me. Just thinking about it causes me to close my eyes.

I never once considered wanting him, desiring him, but the mere concept has my heart pounding, my stomach clenching.

“Cross,” I whisper in a voice unlike my own, dazed and distracted.

A severe crack and a vicious groan send me jolting backwards. I tumble into slush and filth, cold rushing up at me.

Cross’s hand dangles right in front of him, as if he tried to reach for me, catch me, but the horrible slant in his wrist bought him up an inch too short.

A wave of nausea rises in my throat.

The sound was his wrist snapping.

Terror sweeps through me. Run, a constant demand.

No, nothing easy. I sit up, clear my throat. “You’re hurt.”

Cross sighs. “Yes.”

“It’s happening again, isn’t it?” The tattoos. The pain.

He briefly closes his eyes, resigned. “It is.”

“And it’s still my fault?” I check as he pushes one handed to his feet, extends the non-wonky hand to me to set me back on two feet like I’m made of cotton candy and helium.

“Yes,” he rumbles darkly, even as he stares at my mouth. “Yes, you are entirely to blame.”

Then with a whispered “Just for a second,” he kisses me.

6

Cross

six meters south of the Ballasts of Tallinn

Pain is all mental.

Once you understand that, you can train yourself out of it, convince yourself it isn’t deadly or crippling, that your bones remain in straight rigid lines and your guts are still neatly packed under straining muscle.

It’s easier to block it out if you experience it regularly, but the best way to trick yourself out of it, is remembering that you’ve endured worse.

Little pains, like the fleeting bite of Leni’s nails in my scalp, the jagged catch of her zipper breaking under my fingers, the snap of my ankle, I hardly register. And crushing pain, like losing a brother, a father figure, a purpose in the same year; I force myself to forever forget.

Happiness is invasive.

It’s smothering and relentless and impossible to ignore.

Leni eviscerates me with it.

Cheeks blossom pink, lashes vibrant blue. My name on her lips, her undiluted gaze despite being submerged in the depths of my power.

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