Page 66 of An Empress of Earth & Darkness

It stirred something in her.

“We have to work together,” he said, his hip rising from the wall. “Professionally. Whether we like it or not.”

“Professionally,” she repeated. “Even if it could be torturous.”

He grinned, finally chasing the shadows in his eyes away. “That’s not what I said.”

“I know.” She gave a feral grin back. “That’s what I said.”

Artem huffed a little. “If you can’t handle what lies between us, sassy pants, that’s on you.”

She almost choked. “You know as well as I do that I can handle anything you throw at me.” She crossed the distance between them and looked up into his eyes.

His jaw clenched as she pressed her chest against his. “That’s a little hard to believe when you can’t even handle how you feel when you’re around me.”

Her throat tightened at his truth. “One-night stands are not meant to follow you into a new moon.”

His eyes narrowed as he stepped towards her. “We’ve had more than one night of fun, you and I.”

She always underestimated the size of him. His huge body made her feel safe in this moment. She swallowed the thoughts of them both writhing together, feeling pleasure that she had never felt before, and dismissed thoughts of his mouth around the sensitive nerves between her legs.

He stuck out his hand, and it saved her from giving in to the sweet memories of their past. Again.

“What are you doing?” she asked, screwing up her face.

“Striking a truce…in the love making.” His hand remained out, a boyish grin on his lips. “That’s what you want, right?”

“Are you not embarrassed by your choice of words? Like…ever?” She grinned back.

“Nope.”

“A truce?” She lifted an eyebrow.

He nodded, his lips thinning. “Shake my hand and we call it over.”

She swallowed and placed her hand into his, his skin covered by a red rose of winter. Suddenly feeling like she was doing something the Gods didn’t approve of, her heart dropped. “This thing between us…it’s over. No more fucking.”

“Over. No more loving,” he repeated, gripping her hand and shaking slowly. “Strictly professional. We are just two normal guards. Two very sexy, normal guards.”

If it were over, why did his touch feel like a warm charge of energy brushing over her skin?

She hid a grin of her own.

“It’s done,” she agreed.

And just as a spark of something she didn’t understand ignited in her heart, the door to the commander’s office opened, revealing the new commander and the Empress of Air.

Kellen Blacksteel sipped on a white wine as he stood in a corner, watching the celebrations in the Tower. The partygoers were nearly overflowing from the room set aside for weddings and birthdays. It wasn’t the largest room in the Tower by any means, but it had character with mismatched chairs and artwork colouring the walls. Rugs of different origins and fibres littered the floor, making it more homey than any other part of the Tower. The tables were all different heights and makes, some oak and others marble. There were game boards, music, and a bar set up in the corner.. It was a travesty that this room wasn’t used more.

What was even more of a travesty was the amount of lager and ale that Artem had had suppliers bring in. Kellen had a more refined palate for liquor, but he didn’t turn his nose up at the roasted pork skewers that the cooks were bringing around on serving dishes.

Merriment from a fiddle and accordion could be heard from the front of the room near the doors, and witches joined the clan in a dance. Feet were tapping, arms were linked, and everyone was laughing as the alcohol seeped into their blood, the severity of today disappearing into the night like some kind of daydream.

But he was happy to stay away from the fuss of it all.

Kellen supposed he was like Gideon that way. He would rather be on a chair or in a dark corner than be on a dancefloor. But, to his surprise, even his brother was dancing. The Earth Empress seemed to be the one leading their movements. It wasn’t about the actual rhythm or the steps for Kellen, it was more that he didn’t feel comfortable enough in his own skin to be in the middle of a crowd. He had known for as long as he could remember that he was different from most of his clan. He was different from his brothers, his own blood, and he had been different from a lot of the boys in the Selection too.

All but one.

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