Page 58 of A Kiss of Flame

Cat slid closer to her at the table. "Come on. Give us one?"

"Only one?" she questioned skeptically. Cat laughed, and Ismay chuckled.

"We can trade," Cat offered with a sly smirk. "I’ve got loads too."

The door to the cottage opened just as she was about to accept, and Barith came looming in, his face set with frustration. Her heart thrummed, and Levian ignored the dull aches of pain. The moment he caught sight of her, his expression softened with relief.

"You’re awake," he said, as if he couldn’t quite believe it.

Levian nodded, clearing the lump in her throat before she spoke. "Ismay did an excellent job," she said, her nerves evident.

Barith stepped further into the house, and another of his sisters followed. She was curvy and tall, with a long plait of auburn hair thrown over her shoulder. Levian immediately guessed she must be the eldest, as she took in everyone in the room, her gaze assessing.

"You should be in bed," Barith grumbled, glaring at his sisters.

"I’m the one that wanted to get out of bed," Levian defended.

He grunted, and her heart gave a familiar, irritating thump.

All the sisters watched her and Barith, waiting to see what would happen next.

"I’m Flòra,” his sister introduced herself, breaking the tension. She cleared her throat. "Come, we’ve other things to do than gawk."

"Speak for yourself," Cat grumbled.

Flòra cut her a sharp look, but Cat merely shrugged as she took her plate to the sink. "Just promise me I’ll get to hear about those fingers," she told Levian as they all began to shuffle toward the door. Jude gave her one last scathing look before she slid out of the cottage after her.

Levian stilled. She’d forgotten about the fingers and everything she’d discovered at Vane’s.

"There’s more of the dram next to the bed if you need it," Ismay told her as she wrapped herself in a shawl. "I’ll be back in the morning to check on ye and change the bandage." She looked back with one last curious glance before disappearing into the night.

Flòra turned to follow. "I’m happy you’re doing better," she told Levian. "Don’t forget our meeting in the morning," she said to Barith. She glanced between them one last time and then slipped out, closing the door behind her.

The moment they were alone, Levian was sure Barith could hear her thrumming heart. The air grew heavy as the silence lingered.

"I’ve got your bag," Barith told her awkwardly. He was still hovering near the door.

"Did you get the blade?" she questioned.

"Aye," he nodded.

Silence lingered again. It was awkward—this was awkward. Levian sighed. She was too tired to get worked up. “I’m sorry,” she told him. I didn’t mean for all of this to happen.” And when she said it, she meant everything.

Barith looked out the dark window to the night sky and exhaled a deep, steadying breath. When he glanced at Levian, all he saw was the other half of his heart. He never thought he would see Levian sitting at his kitchen table on the island of his horde, wrapped in a tartan shawl. It was an odd thing, but seeing her there made him love her that much more. His heart ached, and his fingers itched to reach out and touch her. Barith kept his hands to himself and hovered near the door, unsure what to do or say.

He’d been so angry when she’d left him at Ember Hall with nothing but her little note. He’d been furious that she hadn’t returned any of his calls. All his anger had evaporated the moment she’d been injured.

When she apologized, it felt like she was punching him right in the stomach. She was sorry for all she’d put him through for all that she’d done. He swallowed.

"I’m not," he told her.

"Barith—" Levian began, but he raised his hand to still her. He didn’t want her to apologize or explain things. He just wanted to tell her what he’d wanted to say after she left him at Ember Hall.

"I wanted you after Beltane," he confessed, looking anywhere but at her. "That night, I found you in the forest, and we made love there in the grass; I think I gave you a bit of my heart then. But I know you, Vi. You made it clear you didn’t want anything more than friendship, and I was disappointed, but I understood." He closed his eyes, lost in memory, willing the words forward.

"You came and went. I came and went. But every time we were together, I felt it. This tug in my heart. I fought it and told myself to leave it be. To leave you be. To not ruin this thing we had. But I?—"

His heart was so raw, his nervous system racked by days of agony at being so far from her and then seeing her so gravely wounded. Now that she was here, awake and alive, he couldn’t bear keeping it in any longer.

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