Page 35 of An Empress of Earth & Darkness

“Yes, yes I can.” His chest rose sharply and then fell. “Especially when it comes to putting you first—”

“You are not putting me first, Torin.” A horrible laugh bellowed from her throat. “So don’t you dare say that pushing me away is a choice that you made for me, because it’s not. You may be protecting me, but I don’t want it. Don’t dare say you are stepping away because of my happiness, because you are doing the opposite of what I want.”

“I have no other choice.” His frustrated brow pulled in. “Why would I put you in the firing line of my father, Emara? Tell me why. You don’t know what you are dealing with when it comes to the levels of cruelty that Viktir Blacksteel will stoop to. Nothing would be a stretch. Nothing is out of bounds.”

“I know that already,” she roared back, her muscles beginning to shake. “He has already threatened to reveal my blood if I don’t set a date to wed Gideon.” A boom thundered across the sky, followed by a flash. “I know the levels to which he will go to ensure that I am ensnared in his trap. And I still won’t break under his pressure. I refuse to let him break me.”

Rage poured over Torin’s face. “I could fucking kill him for doing that to you.” He took a breath in, and she saw a trace of fear flare in his eyes.

She let her tears run, and the saltiness hit her mouth. “My soul knew how I felt about you before my heart would give in and admit it, Torin. Don’t give up on us.”

He looked at her through his lashes, through his own broken dreams, and his lips parted, but he stilled as the wind of a storm picked up his dark hair, making it unruly.

“Those scars on your hands and body are proof that you have gone into every battle and come out alive,” she said to him. “We should treat this—how we feel about each other—no differently. We should fight for what we have. I know that I am ready to.” She paused, heart beating horrendously fast. “I am just earning my scars, and I want you with me as I do. I am the Empress of Air and I do not accept a treaty that I do not want for myself or my coven. And you should not accept this fate if you don’t want it. Fight for something else. Fight for what is in your heart.”

He ran a hand over his face, and his nose wrinkled. The scar that lay between his dark brows pulled together. “Until my father is gone, I am just a pawn in his games with the Gods. He decides my fate, not the Gods, and his stupid little sport with our hearts is proof of that.”

Emara stepped forward as another flash lit up the sky. “That’s where you are wrong, Torin; you decide your fate, and I need you to realise that before it’s too late. We have an impending war brewing in the underworld, and fate is telling me that you and I need to stick together.” She paused before allowing a fraction of a smile to grace her lips. “Even if the notorious warrior of the Blacksteel Hunting Clan is acting a little pathetic right now.”

He scoffed a laugh, and as his ocean-blue eyes found hers, she saw the storming waves in them.

He walked over to the railing and held it tight as he looked out at the city below him. Seconds that felt like years passed between them before he turned to her and said, “Has anyone ever told you how stunning you are when you are pissed off, angel? You are truly breathtaking when you fight for what you want.”

She finally managed a real smile, and it spread across her face like the summer sun. “Yes. Someone who once promised to stand by my side through more than just an oath, through something more than an alliance. Someone who promised me that his soul would find mine even when his bones were nothing but dust and stars.”

“That oath still stands.” His face was serious and deep with thought as he looked over her.

She lifted her chin as dark strands of hair battered into her face. “Then I need you to prove that to me, Torin Blacksteel. I want you by my side, no matter what it takes. Not your brother, not anyone else in this kingdom, you. I will not accept a fate that tells me otherwise and neither should you.” She did not let her gaze falter. “I have shown you all of my cards. Now you must decide where yours lay.”

He let go of the railing and turned to her fully, and with the way a lightning bolt hit through the sky behind him, he could have been a masterpiece, art to be hung in the temple of the Gods. A thick black cloud rolled over the Tower, swallowing the light and devouring the sky. A thunder crash boomed through the city, rocking the railings.

Concern threatened his brow as he finally opened his mouth to speak. “Are you not afraid of the mess in my heart, Empress?”

Yes. She was terrified that if she let go of the final string that her heart clung to, she would be lost in Torin Blacksteel forever. But this was fated, and she would rather go tumbling into fate with Torin than without him. She could feel her magic acknowledging her decision as it stroked her face, her lips, her skin, her heart…

“Are you not afraid of the darkness that runs in my blood?” she battled back, the question meaning way more than the words that formed the sentence.

“I am not afraid of anything except losing you.” There was another flash followed by a tremendous crack of thunder just over their heads, and its full echo vibrated through her. But Torin spoke again, unfazed by the approaching storm as his smouldering eyes devoured her. “It’s a good thing that I am not the same kind of man as my brother, Emara Clearwater, because I can’t let him marry you. Thorin himself is going to have to kill me first.”

Emara’s heart kissed the inside of her mouth as Torin Blacksteel strode towards her in nothing but leathers as another thunderous crack broke through the sky. He stopped mere inches from her face as bolts of lightning dazzled the clouds. Her favourite scent of pine and frozen berries hugged her even in the season of summer. Her breathing stopped as their gazes connected, her desire for him setting fire to her soul.

This was right.

They were fated.

A few heavy droplets of rain hit her face. Torin took a heavy breath, as if breathing her in, and his hands flew out. His fingers found themselves tangled in her hair in seconds, and she let a soft moan leave her lips at his touch.

His touch. Only his.

He pulled her closer, and the Gods poured rain—warm and inviting—from the black clouds. “I had convinced myself that I had lost you, that I was doing the right thing by you, and I will spend the rest of my life begging for your forgiveness. I was wrong. You were made for me, Emara Clearwater.” Placing the top of his brow to hers, Torin murmured against her mouth, “I don’t want anyone else to have you, and I don’t care if that is selfish. I want you. Only you, angel.” He paused as the rain pelted their skin, and she laughed as her tears mixed with the sweetness of the summer rainfall. A fire ignited in Emara’s core as he looked down at her, pulling her body close to his, the collision thrilling and harsh. One sinful dimple appeared when he finally growled, “You’re mine, always.”

That was all it took for something celestial to shift the world’s sphere before his mouth came down on hers, hard and fierce, like he had never kissed anyone else in the world.

Pounding rain pelted Torin’s bare back as he took Emara’s head in one hand and the small of her back in the other and dragged her into him. His lips hit hers with a thunder louder than what was in the sky. Her chest collided with his, and the feeling of her curves softening against him was everything. His tongue opened her mouth further, deepening the kiss as her hands grabbed his neck and hair.

Pulling.

Needing him.

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