Page 207 of The Iron Flower

Yvan turns back to me. “I love you, Elloren, but we can’t do this. Not right now.”

Of course we can’t. We can’t just forget about everything that’s happening. We can’t afford to act on every impulse. What if I got pregnant, with the world around us spiraling into disaster?

Yvan finds my hand and wraps his around it, holding my gaze with his fiery eyes.

“You’re right,” I say as my breathing gradually evens out, and we lie there, holding on to each other, until my eyes grow heavy with fatigue.

Just as I’ve let my lids fall shut, I feel Yvan roll toward me. His arm encircles me as he brings his lips to my forehead. “Good night, Elloren,” he whispers, and I reach around to hug him back.

And then we fall asleep, wrapped up in the warm safety of each other’s arms.

* * *

“Elloren.”

The sound of his voice comes from far away as I float in the darkness of a dreamless sleep.

“Hmm,” I murmur, slowly regaining consciousness, Yvan’s lovely voice filling me with a delicious warmth. I stretch languidly, like a contented cat, wanting to wrap myself around him.

“Elloren.”

There’s a strange urgency in his voice.

Something’s wrong.

The peaceful, floating feeling disappears, replaced by a spike of nervous tension, and I struggle to wake up quickly. I jerk my head side to side, the movement forcing me fully into reality.

Yvan is lying next to me, propped up rigidly on one elbow. He’s not looking at me, but at something just past me with deep concern. I turn to follow the direction of his gaze.

Aunt Vyvian stands in the doorway, her eyes narrowed to tight, livid slits as she takes in the scene before her.

“Hello, my niece.”

“Aunt Vyvian!” I exclaim in mortified surprise, bolting up and quickly remembering that I’m half-clad in my underwear. “I... We...”

“Why are you in bed with a Kelt, my dear?” she asks me slowly, smoothly.

“We didn’t...” I defend myself breathlessly, shaking my head to refute her conclusions. “We haven’t... It’s not what it looks like...”

“What itdoeslook like, Elloren, dear, is that you’re in your underwear, in bed with a Kelt.” Her cool gaze flickers back and forth from Yvan to myself.

I look over at Yvan, panicked. He’s watching my aunt carefully, eyes narrowed, sizing her up and, if his body language is any indication, finding her to be dangerous. His hand slides protectively over mine.

Aunt Vyvian stares back at him, and the side of her lip twitches. “Aren’t you going to introduce me to your friend, Elloren?”

Yvan glances over at me, his expression guarded. He releases my hand and stands up to face my aunt. “My name is Yvan Guriel.”

My aunt eyes him up and down with a look of contempt that’s scathing.

Fear seizes hold of me.

Does she suspect our involvement in what happened at the prison?

Aunt Vyvian turns to me, her brow tensing. “Your uncle is very ill, Elloren.”

The world tilts.

Oh, Ancient One, no. Not this. Not now.

---