Page 165 of What Lies Within Blood & Heirs

“I’msomad at you right now.”

“That is alright.” He bent forward, anchoring himself on an elbow, and carefully brushed a hair behind her ear. Hissing at whatever ached in his neck before he admitted, “I am angrywith myself, too. When Thalon threw me off a cliff… Perhaps his approach… When death is.” And paused, shaking his head. She’d never seen him so lost for words. So shaken. “Fuck. That was incredibly foolish.”

“Onthat, we can agree.” Alora shoved away, leaving his palms to fall into the grass. The terrible rage and fear inside her subsided enough that she extended a hand.

Garrik accepted it, and she admittedly found pleasure in his harrowing groan as he stood.

It would be even more pleasing if he still felt it tomorrow.Starsdamned High Fae blood.

Alora rolled her shoulders, relieving the pressure in her aching neck as she studied the cliffside that seemed abundantly more daunting from the top. Perhaps it wasn’t as far of a drop as she’d imagined. But she would still be mad at him. For now, it felt better than the embarrassment earlier.

“How are we going to get back up?” she asked, scanning the sharp edges of rocks. Refusing to climb.

Garrik stretched his arm across his chest, back facing her, and she gritted her teeth hard enough to distract her from tracing the defined muscles under his tunic. “Retorm an maiez,” his warm, deep voice carried to the forest surrounding them. To the darkness within.

Return to me.That she knew, too.Thanks, Eldacar.

Like inhaling the homely scent of metal and leather, Garrik breathed in slowly as Smokeshadows whorled. Life returned to his body, turning him as cold as the air surrounding a snow-capped mountain. He didn’t need to say a word because she was already walking to him. And when her hand perfectly molded to the ice of his, weightlessness caressed her, and they dawned up the cliff.

Garrik decided on blades instead of words for the next hour.

That line between his brows deepened the more he grunted between sharp thrusts and swings. It was evident how much he regretted throwing himself off the ledge. Not for himself. That was clear the more she caught him glancing at her,scanning her body, worrying every time she winced when her starfire flared and she dropped to her feet from hovering.

What she wouldn’t do for one of Thalon’s ice baths …

At first, it had distracted her, the anger and fear of the fall overriding everything. But if she didn’t say something soon, Garrik would continue torturing his body until he collapsed.

Alora stuffed items in her pack as she chewed on the inside of her cheek, thinking of what to say. A few throwing daggers that didn’t fit in her thigh sheaths, a blanket, rope, wrapped jerky, and bread with a jar of honey.

Storm and Ghost grazed behind her near the tree line. Alora tightened the strings on the bag and rubbed Storm’s nose when she approached. Taking a moment to stroke Ghost’s neck, noticing a quick shimmer on her forehead before she fastened the pack to Storm’s saddle.

Then a voice like the drizzling honey in her pack whispered, “Are you alright?” Cloaked with worry, Garrik’s hands lightly brushed her sides as if they scanned for injuries, then squeezed her waist when she didn’t so much as flinch.

Alora leaned into his touch and settled herself against the pleasant chill of his chest, answering, “Yes.” Meaning it. Knowing he was likely more sore than she was. “Are you?”

Cold breath fanned against her neck. “Still mad at me?”

She frowned at his deflection but greedily tilted her head, offering more flesh, and said, “Yes.”No.

His answering hum suggested he wasn’t convinced. “Allow me to apologize?” came that breathy question. Those lips trailed along her jaw, but his hands … they needed to move anywhere—everywhere.

Stuttering, Alora toyed, “You … you think you deserve that?”

“You say I deserve many things. Is this where the line is drawn?”

Alora pressed harder into his solid muscles, blowing out a breath to steady her heartbeat as she traced her fingers along his arm. Tracking corded veins like rivers until she circled his shackle-scarred wrist with a whisper-like touch. “I’ll consider it.” His unnecessary apology. “If?—”

Bliss groaned from her the moment he kissed her neck. Words were near-impossible.

“If?” he repeated against her skin.

“If you fight me.” Her words didn’t come out as confident as she’d hoped.

Garrik stiffened, pulling away slightly. “No,” he said, rough and with lingering primal desire. “I have done one foolishly reckless thing today. I refuse to do another.”

“I’m not afraid of you.”

“I willhurtyou.” There was finality in his warning, but Alora smiled and leaned her head against his chest, rolling her eyes to meet his.

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