Page 73 of An Empress of Fire & Steel

Emara didn’t dare look at the warrior who stood beside her.

“Did you forget you are under the protection of the hunters, Miss Clearwater?” Artem smiled, but there was a cutting jest in his tone that made her think about her actions.

She had been extremely reckless. She was under the protection of the hunters and it had been silly of her not to inform them of what she had done.

But she had loved every minute of it, breathing in the air of liberation.

“I have already given her the talk,” Torin said, pulling off his wet clothes. His tunic hit the ground with a slap. “You need to leave for her to change.” Torin stood with his hands on his hips in nothing but his leathers.

Artem glanced through the small window that sat above the bed and then to the clothing on the floor. “That’s funny.” His brow pulled down. “The last time I checked outside, it wasn’t raining or snowing.” His chin lifted into the air. “So that raises the question as to why the both of you are absolutely drenched.”

Emara tried to hide the red-hot beam in her cheeks. She peeked over at Torin. He straightened, pushing back his shoulders. His neck—a neck that she had kissed and moaned into just a short while ago—bobbed.

Running his tongue along the inside of his check and a hand through his wet hair, he said, “We fell.”

Artem failed to hide the amusement that spread across his face. “You fell?”

“We did,” Emara confirmed, not looking at the inked warrior but at the water on the floor that puddled around them both. Torin walked over to the railings and pulled down a fresh towel before draping it over her shoulders. The heat from the material instantly warmed her.

“Into a waterfall, to be exact,” Torin said as he ran a towel over his hair. “Emara decided to go exploring. And we fell.”

Emara nearly choked on her own breath and threw a dangerous look his way, but his eyes burned with that same fire as when he had licked her, sucked on her flesh, and stolen her mouth with his own.

She swallowed.

His appetite didn’t stay sated for long. And, apparently, neither did hers, as her toes curled into the wooden floor.

Artem barked out a laugh. “All right. If that’s what you want me to believe, I will play along. But if you expect me to really believe that Torin Blacksteel fell helplessly into a waterfall, you must mistake me for a fool.”

“Why just Torin?” Emara asked, slightly offended. “Why is it believable for me to have fallen into a waterfall and not him?”

Artem got up from the bed and walked closer. “Because I have trained with him.” He slid his eyes to Emara’s. “I have seen him dodge five demons whilst eating a turkey leg.”

“That’s a true story.” Torin’s eyes met hers, and a buoyant excitement danced there.

“So there is no way he fell into a waterfall by accident,” Artem said as he crossed his arms. “He either jumped in after you, or you pushed him.”

Emara let out a loud hoot. “Pushed him?”

“She did,” Torin confirmed. “She pushed me.”

He turned, giving her a subtle wink that made her stomach flutter. If Emara hadn’t known what he was capable of with that wicked mouth as he pulled it into a grin, she would have described his smile as innocent.

But she couldn’t now. Or ever.

“All right, all right.” Artem snorted. “I am just glad you are both back in one piece. I will retreat for now in the hopes that, someday, I will learn the truth.” He held out his tattooed hands in surrender. “But only if you swear to make me part of the wedding party.”

“Artem, don’t go there,” Emara warned as she shivered into her towel.

“I could do a speech—”

“Don’t go there, I said.”

“I also look good in a dress jacket. Maybe you could appoint me best man of the union.”

“Right, that’s it.” Emara dove towards him.

Before she could reach Artem, something strong grabbed her around the waist, pulling her back. She kicked and punched as a gust of air brushed through the room, but all she could hear was a chuckle. Somehow, it had become her favourite sound.

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