Page 46 of A Sun Scorched Bloom

Janelle dwelled on this. She couldn’t imagine someone trying tousea man as kind and joyful as Erik. Spend time with him? Sure. But use him? Never. Even with her temper, along with the tendency to lose her patience quickly, Janelle found herself actuallywantingto be near him. When she was around Erik, she could rarely stop the tiny smile that pulled at the edges of her mouth. The one she constantly tried to hide. She was tough, after all, and had an image to uphold.

"And you?" Erik asked. "Have you ever been in love?"

Janelle laughed out loud. It wasn’t just funny, it was absurd. She had her use for men, and it didn’t go beyond the physical. Not since… She shook her head, refusing to think about that night. "No. I have never been in love."

Erik seemed to consider this for a moment, going silent. "Have you never been touched, then?"

Janelle could feel the tension radiating from behind her as Erik waited for her to respond. "That’s not what I said," she replied, knowing he wouldn’t like her answer, but wanting to be honest with him all the same.

"Did they at least love you well?" he rumbled, his gruff words somehow angryandtender.

Janelle shook her head no. "Nothing more than some fun. There wasn’t a lot to do in our village." She tried to minimize the truth, that she hadn’t allowed anyone in enough to let them do more than fuck her. Any physical contact she’d indulged in had been simply a means to an end.

Erik placed his hand on Janelle’s stomach, his palm splayed wide across it. The tip of his thumb rubbed against her hip bone, only inches away from the jagged, raised scar that crossed up the front of her hip and wrapped around her side.

"Fools," Erik growled.

"Maybe I’m not meant for that," Janelle croaked, hardly able to breathe with his fingertips so close to her scar.

"You are meant to be adored. Worshiped. Don’t you ever think otherwise, even for a second," he ordered, his words uncharacteristically sharp.

Janelle‘s skin felt hot, itchy and uncomfortable, as if her thoughts and emotions were trying to break free from her body. She needed to change the subject, but despite her best intentions, she leaned back against Erik instead. She couldn’t bring herself to pull away from the feeling of his hard chest against her back and his stubble tickling her temple.

"I’ll try to remember that." She cleared her throat. "Anyway. Tell me something about you I don’t know. Why are you and Gray so close?"

Erik didn’t press the subject, kindly allowing her to move past the moment that had been occurring between them. "It started because my father was the king's closest advisor. We were born only months apart from each other. Our mothers were friends, and we were raised together. We’ve always been close, but he became my brother the day he saved me." Erik paused, and as much as Janelle wished it was for dramatic effect, she could sense that it was because he needed to gather his strength to continue.

"My father was not a kind man. He was abusive, not only with his words, but with his fists as well. A coward, to attack a child."

Running a hand across his scruffy jaw, Erik sighed as if reliving a memory he wished would remain in the past. "Gray saw bruises in the shape of fingers around my throat when we were twelve years old. His powers had already begun to manifest, but he was nowhere near as strong as he is now. He went to my father in the night, left strangulation marks onhisthroat that didnotlook like fingers. He threatened to kill him should he ever lay a hand on me or my mother again. And the shame my father felt, knowing that a child would be able to fulfill that promise, it kept him from telling anyone.

"The king would have been proud if he’d known that Gray had behaved so ruthlessly. My dad never touched me again. Hardly spoke to me. I returned the favor to Gray, years later, when we made a blood oath to one another." Erik looked down at his palm where a faint scar crossed from thumb to pinky. "I bound myself to him, pledged my life to serve him and help destroy the kingdom our fathers created."

"Men from Auropera seem to have tendencies toward violence against women and children, don’t they?" Janelle’s words were bitter, angry.

"You better not be speaking from experience," Erik growled. Janelle felt heat at her back, the hand still pressing into her stomach warming to nearly searing hot.

"Just an observation," Janelle felt her stomach churn as Emma held up a hand, pulling the reins with the other to stop her horse. "Something’s coming…" Emma said, her eyes wide.

"What is it?" Gray stopped Obsidian and drew his sword in one terrifying, fluid motion, shadows exploding in a shield around them.

"They don’t know..." Emma looked around, continuing her silent conversation with the dead.

Erik cursed, and Lea’s face paled. And while Janelle was afraid of whatever they were about to face, she couldn’t deny the relief that she felt that her deepest secrets could continue to hide safely inside her for just a little longer.

Chapter 27

Emma

"Something’scoming,"Johnny,theleader of the dead, said again. "You need to listen, it’s not…"

Emma never heard the end of the sentence as a gust of wind rushed through the woods, carrying with it a chill that caused her teeth to chatter painfully. The already cold air dropped at least twenty degrees within seconds. "What the…" Emma turned to Erik to warn him of what Johnny had told her. "Get ready, something’s—"

Emma’s blood ran cold. Johnny had turned toward her. His usually amicable expression had morphed into one of rage. He dipped his chin, lowering his brows. "You can see us, and yet, you donothingto help us. We warn you. We follow you. And still, you call us the dead. Speak as if we are nothing."

A shiver ran down Emma’s spine. "I’m so sorry. I want to help. Really, I do, but I don’t knowhow."

"You haven't even tried!" Johnny roared. He bared his teeth in a gruesome smile. "Why do you think we allowed you entrance? Hmmm?" His wounds began to ooze. "You don’t deserve our help, you selfish bitch!"

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