Page 35 of Petals for Deadly Power

Indianna snorted, and Hope laughed. Courtrades and their easy ways of living.

The door to the deck was half-open, the sound of gentle rain falling on the wooden surface, calming and well-known. Hope was about to walk outside when Stevian opened the door and entered.

“Beware of the rain if you don’t want to get wet.”

Hope chuckled. The man had been soaked the first night while pushing the shadows to move the navia away from Thyria.

“I don’t mind getting wet every now and then,” she said.

His smile was pure, his blue eyes shining with wisdom and something that resembled understanding. “You are not the only one, then. He just said he likes the rain.”

Hope’s stomach reacted as if she had just dropped from the top of the navia. She didn’t need to ask to know exactly whohewas. She didn’tdareask anything else.

Stevian bowed his head, still smiling, and disappeared behind her into the navia.

She could decide what to do. She could decide where to go. Hope swallowed, her breaths fastening as an array of questions, thoughts, and warnings filled her mind at the speed of beating wings.

She shouldn’t. She totally shouldn’t.

But she still did.

The raindrops fell on her face as she closed the door behind her. She closed her eyes, inhaling deeply, smiling at the pleasant touch. She lifted her hands, palms facing the clouds blessing them with precious water.

The smile became a grin, became laughter. Seconds became minutes, maybe hours. She could stay there until the rain stopped and the clouds left.

She could, but she didn’t.

She opened her eyes, blinking a few times until the drops fell and allowed her to see clearly. And clearly, she saw.

She saw Ciaran, his back leaning on the rail, his face looking towards the sky, his eyes closed and peaceful, his wet, dark hair falling on his shoulders, his dark clothes shaping around the muscles on his body, the metal of his arm and the ring on his lip shining, the ink on his biological arm and the top of his chest fresh and clear.

Cardinals have mercy.

Hope didn’t know how long she had been staring. But when he opened his eyes and his blue met her black ones, he half-smiled.

“It’s raining,” he said.

Hope chuckled. “Is it? I hadn’t noticed.”

“You caught me off guard. How long have you been here? I hadn’t—”

He didn’t finish his sentence, and Hope knew exactly what he meant. She hadn’t scented him either, the smell of the rain covering any other scents.

“I’m not sure.” It wasn’t a lie, and it was better thanlonger than I want to admit. “Can I ask you a question?”

He walked towards her, closing the distance between them to a couple of steps. He nodded.

“What do the inks on your skin mean?” They were beautiful, intricate.

Ciaran inhaled deeply, letting go of a long exhale. “Do you want to ask any other question?”

Hope tilted her head to the side. “Of course I do, but why would I if you don’t answer?”

“My inks . . . I can’t tell you. I’m sorry.” He sighed. “I promise to answer any other question I can.”

“Have you ever been with a woman?”

No.

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