Page 59 of Petals for Deadly Power

When he spoke, the shadows vanished. “Fucked up.”

Hope felt the need to get closer to him, caress his skin, get lost in his embrace, tell him she was fine, that it was all over—because shewasfine, and itwasover. Thanks tohim. She didn’t do any of that. Instead, her words left her mouth before she could stop them.

“Can I talk to you in private?” she asked. She clenched her fists to keep her hands from shaking.

“Always.”

Without a second glance back, Ciaran opened the door for her, waiting. He didn’t have to wait long, because her feet were light and her nerves thick. When she walked by him, her arm brushed his and she had to hold her breath to keep from showing what that slight touch had moved within her, how the glint in his eyes when their eyes met moved her in many ways—many of them forbidden.

It was pouring outside, so instead of going to the deck, Hope’s steps were taking them downstairs, to—

“Would you prefer to go to my room or your room?” Ciaran asked from where he was closely following her.

Fifth above and beyond, how grateful she was Ciaran couldn’t see the flushed cheeks, her widened eyes or the way she bit her bottom lip.

She surely couldn’t take him to her room. What if he sat on her bed, where she had touched herself thinking about him? What if he couldsmellwhat she had done?

“Yours is closer.”

He didn’t reply, but when she stopped in front of his metallic door and turned to him, his head was bowed, a curtain of smooth hair falling over his gorgeous face, only his blue eyes and his metal ring distinguishable.

He held the door open for her, and when she entered, she couldn’t stop from inhaling deeply. His scent filled her mind, fogging it with woods and night, pines and darkness. It was like entering intohim. Her knees wanted to buckle, but she tried her best to continue walking. It was almost impossible he’d missed the pause, the shock of what she’d just experienced, of what was surrounding her right now.

Cardinals, maybe going to his room hadn’t been the best option.

He sat on the edge of his immaculate bed. “Take a seat wherever you want.”

Hope swallowed. She could be wary and clever and sit on the couch, or she could be reckless and dangerous, and sit next to him. Her mind hadn’t yet decided when her heart moved her towards him.

His hand stopped on her thigh before she reached for the bed. “Hope,” he whispered.

She halted, still standing, his firm fingers still on her. She could have walked, she could have sat, but she must have wished for inner destruction because, instead, her body faced his, standing between his legs. He sat looking at his hand as if he hadn’t meant to move it there, but he couldn’t have stopped it. The same way she couldn’t stop—she didn’twantto stop—her hands moving to his face, her hands caressing his cheeks, gently tilting his head up until his stare met hers.

She wanted to say so many things she didn’t know where to start. She didn’t know what she should or shouldn’t do, if there was any point in trying to save herself from this. From him.

Perhaps she was beyond saving, perhaps there had never been a saving at all.

His breathing was irregular, his metal ring bobbed. “What am I going to do, Hope?” His other hand held onto the outer side of her other thigh.

The exact same question she had been asking herself for the past few days, for the past few weeks. It was easier when she was able to think rationally, to convince herself she was capable of many things—of avoiding many things. But being here, this close to him, surrounded by his scent, it wasn’t difficult. It was almostimpossible.

His hands moved her legs slightly to the side. It would be easier,mucheasier, to get away from him, back to a safe distance, if he pushed her away, because she was incapable of doing it herself.

But he didn’t push her away. He pushed her down, inviting her to sit on his leg. And Cardinals take her blades away, she didn’t refuse.

She fit perfectly on his strong, muscled leg, his hand embracing the small of her back while the other rested on her knee. Her arm rested on his metallic shoulder, her hand playing with his hair. It was softer than she thought, thicker than she had imagined.

She had thought he was brutally, fiercely handsome since the very first time. But this close, Ciaran was breathtaking.

“How can the same person save me and destroy me?” His voice was low, as if he was asking himself the question.

The question punctured her heart, but no more than the forbidding of the Cardinals had already punctured it.

“You’ve saved my life twice now, Ciaran. No words of gratitude will ever match how much this means.”

His hand moved from her knee to her throat, where the blade had hit her, where she would’ve bled to death if he hadn’t Healed her.

“No words are needed. I would do it a hundred times again.”

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