Page 26 of Petals for Deadly Power

Hope frowned, unsure if she had heard him properly, or exactly what he meant.

“I can help you, if you let me,” he repeated.

“I’m okay.”

The slight bob of his throat was the only sign that he had chuckled. “Sure. You will not be okay in a few minutes. Let me help you.” Even through the now roaring sound of the waves and the wind, Hope felt the urgency in his voice.

He was not going to let this go. Hope sighed and nodded. “If it makes you go back to shadow business and not be distracted.”

Ciaran walked behind her and kneeled. She felt both his hands around her ankles, circling her legs in steady and rhythmic movements as his hands trailed upwards. And upwards.

Hope’s eyes widened. She could feel warmth where his hands had barely touched her, as if a thin coat of protection against the wind was being created. Maybe the source of warmth was not solely the layer of protection he was building for her, which Hope now saw was made of shadows.

His hands continued trailing upwards, and when he reached the height of her waist, there was an inch between his hands and her leather clothes as he kept circling her body. The sudden need for him to cover such a small distance was overwhelming, as it was the closeness of his pine and night scent and the warmth, the warmth, the warmth. The warmth definitelynotcaused by his protective layer alone.

She never thought her teeth could be clattering and her head and hands shaking, and yet the lower part of her body felt so . . .Notcold. Soverynot cold at all.

Bless the Cardinals for ensuring Ciaran was behind her and not in front of her, because the look on her face would have revealed more than she wanted. More than she should. Even if his circling touch on her lower abdomen made her inhale as deeply as if she could swallow all the air in the Radel Sea at once.

Now that he was finally standing, she felt the strands of his hair flying and slamming against the back of her neck, right where her red panom mark was. She felt his metallic hand across her thin, tight clothes around her breasts, and the tension between the distance of his touch and her body seemed to be electrical and as dangerous as the most fatal wave. A wave that could crash lands and worlds at once.

A rational part of Hope seemed to want to remember why she was not allowed to have his touch on her. Something about being forbidden, but every time she tried to grab the thought, it slipped from her mind again, replaced by his hands now touching her neck in steady circles. When his metallic hand touched her panom mark, her eyes rolled backwards, her head tilting slightly upwards and colliding against the curvature of his neck. She thanked the Fifth for the loud noise of their surroundings for the first time that night. The loud noise that covered her own, not-as-loud-but-still-very-loud noise. Hermoan.

She inhaled deeply and took a step forwards, spinning around to face Ciaran. His eyes were glazed, and he breathed as if this had been as much effort as controlling the hefty shadows he had reined to cover and move the navia.

“Last bit, I promise,” he said, stepping towards her, lifting his hands. If she thought her heart couldn’t beat any faster, she was wrong.

He placed his palms on top of her head, moving them down to her chin with a slow caress that sent shivers down her spine when his biological and metallic indexes touched the sides of her lips at the same time.

“Th—” she started, unsuccessfully. She swallowed before trying again. “Thank you, I feel much . . . warmer.”

Warm to the point of boiling, in fact. Ciaran smiled, his eyes pinning her down as if he was absorbing her, and without further ado, he went back to where Stevian and Nyxara were still reigning the power of darkness.

16

Lenna

Bythetimethesun shone through the curtains of their cabin in the navia, Lenna had a pounding headache and surely blueish lips from trying to sleep in such cold.

She had stacked blankets on top of her and Jake until somewhere around the fifteenth she had assumed that Giving them any sort of cover was as useful as a pile of rotten feathers.

“Is fucking our brains out the only way to survive this place at night?” Jake said, echoing her own, still-defrosting thoughts. “It is a question, not a complaint.”

Lenna would have chuckled, were her cheeks not rigid as the metal door. “Llunal is a dirty bastard.” Lenna didn’t find the god of the courtrades one damned bit funny. “If we have to be kept so busy at night, we might as well sleep when the sun is out. Actually . . . It would make sense that the god of shadows wants us to give nights a better use, don’t you think?”

“The Fifth only knows why these gods and goddesses do what they do.” Jake turned his tense body towards her on the bed, casually leaning his head on his hand. “Do you think your friends are still alive?”

Lenna’s facial and arm muscles seemed to find enough strength to elbow Jake while she pursed her lips. He didn’t flinch at her not-so-candid touch, and her elbow was almost sore by how his abdomen muscles appeared to be made of the same steel as the door. “For Cardinals’ sake, Jake. They better be.”

She wasn’t shocked that Jake didn’t consider Sasha and Brendonhisfriends. Why would he? Jake had made it clear that the only reason he was in this group of people was to get the Fifth. He wanted it to avenge his father torturing Lenna, stabbing her until she was unconscious, and taking her panom powers away.

It still shocked her that such a male, ruthless and unforgiving, gave a shit about her. According to Jake, he gave much more than a shit. Those weren’t his exact words, actually. They had been more like . . .

I chose you, Lenna Brachyan, because you have the fearless heart of those who change worlds. I chose you, because I can see who you are behind the walls you insist on putting for everyone to see. I chose you because even if you have accepted that everyone who should love you has given up on you, I know you are worth fighting for. I chose you because I know you can be as powerful as I am, if not even more. And I chose you, sweet fire, because you are absolutely insufferable, and I can’t get you out of my mind.

It didn’t make sense that he cared so much, that he saw hersomuch. Of course, Jake Coralt of the Organ House wasn’t here for friendships. He didn’t seem to care for anything or anyone other than himself and the red-haired woman lying with him in bed.

Did this man, consumed by a centuries-long life of pain and vicious orders under his wicked father, haveanyfriends?

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