Page 30 of Power of Draken

My grip slides to the back of her neck, pulling her closer as I deepen the kiss, my body pressing hers gently against the workbench.

Rowan's hands move to my chest in answer, not pushing me away, but clinging to my shirt. The kiss turns deeper with each heartbeat, as if our hearts themselves are speaking together, trying to match each other's urgency and building need. Rowan's soft moan vibrates against my lips and what little remains of my self control wavers, my hands slipping down to grip her backside and pull her against my hardness. When I finally break the kiss, it’s only because she needs air and I need to trail my mouth down her jawline, savoring the feel of her skin.

“Ow.” Rowan jerks, pulling back with a sudden gasp. A soft self-deprecating laugh catches her breath. “You’ve some sharp teeth there.”

Ice shoots through my veins, reality slapping my head hard enough to make everything ring. I don’t have sharp teeth, I’ve sharp canines. And I’d come within a hair’s breadth of biting her for real.

I step back quickly, knocking myself against the shelves behind me and upsetting the glass jars and vials stacked there. As if jerking back now can undo what I’ve done. But it can’t. Rowan is already reaching toward the tiny scratch of blood on her neck. The one she doesn’t yet know is there. But I do.

Rowan’s hand stills, her brows knitting in confusion. “It’s alright. You didn’t hurt me. Don’t worry.”

Of course she would say that. Would try to make me feel better.

But that’s only because she doesn’t know what I am, that it was fae canines that had scraped her skin. And if she finds out, the past two years will have been for nothing. The chance for a cure, the one I’ve promised to give Lilith, will disappear. My heart hammers against my ribs as I take a step toward the exit. Then another.

The confusion in Rowan's eyes shifts to hurt. I’ve hurt her. Of course I did. That’s what I always do.

Turning on my heels, I flee the workshop without another word.

Chapter 15

Rowan

The following morning I climb into the sparring ring with the single minded intent of baiting Logan into putting me out of my misery. He doesn't, but he does keep his mouth shut and works me hard enough that by the time I crawl off the sand, my mind is too drunk on fatigue to feel the jagged edge of Kai’s rejection. Mostly.

“Want to talk about it?” Logan asks as I gulp a third ladle of water, spilling half of it down my shirt. Not that it matters, given how sweat-soaked I am to begin with.

“About?”

Logan vaults over the fence with all grace and no effort, then snatches the whole water pail and drinks from the lip. “Grayson.” He lowers the pail just enough to keep me in his line of sight, his thick black hair glistening with the few droplets of water he’s just splashed on it. “You know—tall, blond, broody, likes to order everyone around?”

I tense. Had Kai told Logan about the kiss? Does Kyrian know as well? And what did he say exactly, if so?

Fuck.

I’ve just spent two hours trying to get Kai Grayson out of my head and now he’s right back here, taking up unwelcome residence in my mind once more. Reminding me of the way his kiss lit up every fiber inside my body, rousing me higher than Collin ever had. Higher than I thought was possible. I shake my head, frustrated with myself.

Logan snorts, then studies me and his expression turning solemn. “Did he hurt you, little rabbit?” he asks quietly, pushing sweat drenched locks away from his face. For a moment, Logan doesn’t seem his usual gorgeous-scary self. Instead, there is concern there. A strange protectiveness.

Right. Like a wolf being protective of his fresh kill. Or did you miss the rabbit part?

“No. It wasn’t like that,” I assure him quickly. The possibility of Kai hurting me physically hadn’t even entered my mind yesterday, which was probably a mistake. The man could break me with one hand. With half an order. But my gut said he wouldn’t. Not physically, at least. As for the rest of it… I wince as I realize that I’d just confirmed Logan’s suspicions about Grayson’s involvement in my current mood.

“How was it, then?” Logan pulls himself up to sit on the fence, waiting for me to find words that are escaping me en-mass. Framed by thick black hair, his honey eyes seem golden in the reflecting light, stirring a memory I can’t capture. Logan’s question hangs in the space between us.

What am I supposed to say, though? Gods, I don’t even know what to say to myself, much less to Logan. Something like, I’m upset because Kai’s kiss shattered all my notions of kisses, and I don’t know where that leaves me now? Or perhaps that I’m disappointed with how quickly the commander of our whole year came to his senses about me? Or maybe that, for a moment yesterday, I thought I saw the real Kai and it hurt to see him walk away? None of that sounds right, even to me. I may not be smart enough to have stayed away from Kai Grayson, but I’m at least smart enough to keep my mouth shut in front of his best friend.

“Nothing,” I tell Logan, who’s still awaiting my answer with preternatural stillness. “It’s nothing important.” The bell chimes saving me from the conversation and to signal the end of morning training and start of academics. “I need to change. See you soon.”

I start walking toward the enchanter dorms, only to hear a soft patter of boots as Logan comes up beside me. The cadets already on the path take one look at him and step to the side, clearing out of the way. He doesn’t even acknowledge them.

“Talk to me, rabbit,” says Logan.

“There is nothing to talk about.” I stop at the entrance to the enchanter barracks and point to the building where the combat cadets bunk. “You live over there. Unless you intend to come in and watch me change?”

Logan reaches past me, his woodsy scent brushing my cheek, and opens the main door. “After you.”

“Seriously?”

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