Page 21 of A Shattered Kingdom of Steel

“I don’t know,” his companion says slowly. “But I did hear something.”

Asheros inhales and holds his breath. With one hand locked around my chest, crushing my breasts, he grips my upper arm. He drives my head back with his other hand, the one that’s still clasped over my mouth, so that my temple is pressed to his jawline. My shoulder blades bear down on the solid planes of his chest, and I make it a point to ignore how good it feels to have him this close.

Don’t lose focus.

My rear, like the rest of me, grinds against Asheros every time I pretend to struggle. I feel something harden beneath me, but I don’t stop, my breaths becoming ragged.

I can practically hear Ceren this time.

“Don’t lose focus, Lymseia.”

I squeeze my eyes shut as if that would somehow dull the heat spreading through me. I buck my hips again.

Asheros sucks in a breath, and a soft, involuntary moan slips from his lips. This time, it doesn’t sound like he’s in pain.

“See anything?” one of the guards asks.

“No,” the other answers. “You?”

“No,” the first says, though, he doesn’t sound convinced.

“Let’s move on,” the guard’s companion says. “Maybe whatever we’re hearing is headed this way.”

“All right,” the guard agrees.

I feign another scream, lost to the palm of Asheros’s hand. Cloaked in his shadows, it’s doubtful the guards would see us, even if they knew where to look.

Hooves clack on the road. They fade the farther east they go, until only the rustling of the forest surrounds us.

Asheros’s grip on me lingers. He exhales, his breath hot on my neck.

I suppress a shudder.

Then he lets me go. The shadows surrounding us recede.

I whirl around, fist raised. But before I can follow through, he catches it with one hand, touching his nose with the other.

“How did you do that?” I demand. “Conjure the shadows?”

“You’re in no position to make demands, Bladesinger.”

“As if I give a damn.”

Still clutching my fist, Asheros pulls his hand away from his face and looks at the tips of his fingers. Bright red stains them.

He snarls. “You broke my nose.”

A flicker of adrenaline sparks my combat instincts. But I don’t let it show. Instead, I snap, “It’s the least I can do.”

Asheros’s lips part into that amused half-smile. He shakes his head a little, his eyes sliding from the blood coloring his fingertips, up to my own.

I stare him down. But it only widens his grin.

“You are absolutely fearless,” he mutters, as if in awe.

“That would imply I have something to fear.” The words leave my tongue before I can stop them. Not that I want to.

“To the contrary, Bladesinger,” Asheros says, taking a step closer to me, “I think you’ve just made my point.”

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