Page 63 of Lady for Embers

“The problem isn’t when you are on this side of the Veil, Sorin. It is when you are on the other. On the side where I cannot reach you.”

He brought his lips to hers then, kissing her softly and letting their twin ?ame bond soothe her soul in a way words never could. She could tease him all day about being an overprotective male, but ever since they’d had this bond Anointed, protecting her at any cost had been as imperative as breathing. He would have given his life for her before, but now, doing whatever was necessary to keep her safe was as natural as breathing. It was why he could give her his magic without a second thought for his own well-being. It was what drove him to comfort her, despite not knowing how to ease the anxiety he could still feel rolling off of her.

He pulled back from her mouth, not wanting to get lost in her until they’d ?nished this conversation. “Be honest, Scarlett. How are your power reserves?”

She bit her lip, her blue eyes hardening some as she scowled at him. “I am not drawing from you right now, Sorin. Not until we’ve talked about this more.”

“I understand that, but I still need to know. So I know what we are dealing with.”

“How areyourpower reserves?” she countered.

He held out a hand, ?re ?aring to life in his palm. She reached over, swiping her ?ngers through the ?ames, a soft sigh leaving herlips.

A sound that had him adjusting her on his lap.

She didn’t seem to notice as she asked, “And a portal? Can you create one?”

“I have not tried,” he answered, turning so she gently slid off his lap.

“Do your reserves feel normal? Like they usually do?”

“No,” he admitted, nudging her down onto her back. She frowned slightly.

“What are we going to do about it?”

“Right now? Nothing,” he answered, settling his hips between her thighs.

“This is important, Sorin,” she admonished, rolling her eyes when she suddenly realized what he was doing.

“So is this,” he countered, his hands skimming over her hips. She was in one of his shirts, and, once again, wasn’t wearing pants. He wasn’t sure why she always thought he could concentrate on anything else when she wasn’t wearing pants.

His ?ngers slipped under the shirt. He hooked his thumbs in thehem, dragging it up as his hands moved along her ribs. Her hands slid into his hair. “I’m being serious,” she chided.

“I am always serious when it comes to getting you naked, Love.”

“Sorin,” she sighed. “Please. We need to talk about this. And Rayner. And Cassius’s power. And what Alaric said to me. And I really, really need to use the bathing room.”

He chuckled under his breath. “That is quite the list, Princess.”

Pushing herself up, she gripped the nape of his neck and pulled his lips to hers. She wasted no time meeting his tongue, her knees squeezing his hips. Nipping his bottom lip, she pulled back, and a growl rose in the back of his throat. She smiled coyly as she extracted herself from the bed and disappeared into the bathing room. Sorin rolled onto his back, propping his hands behind his head, trying to calm down. Her list ran through his head, and he got stuck on Rayner.

What if she was right? What if he was Avonleyan? He couldn’t be full-blooded though, right? Maybe he had some Avonleyan blood like Luan did? That had to be it, if he had any at all.

But he hadn’t been born in the Fire Court. He hadn’t been bornon their continent at all. He had been born on a small islandsouth of the Water Court, an island that no other territory or Royal had ruled. An island that was law unto itself.

An island that Rayner had left desolate and nothing but ash the last time he was there.

He was older than most of them, closer in age to Luan than he was to him or Cyrus. His past was dark, to say the least, and certainly not his story to tell, but she could be right, he realized. Rayner could very well be Avonleyan, considering the kinds of things that took place on that island. None of them would have ever known.Raynerwould have never known. But damnit, it would certainly explain a lot.

What exactly were they going to discover when they arrived in Avonleya?

Scarlett emerged with a scowl on her face, and she moodily snatched a piece of dried meat from the tray of food, leaning against the desk as she chewed.

When she said nothing, Sorin ventured, “To what do I owe this delightful change of mood?”

She sent him a dry look, taking another bite of the meat. “I want a bath.”

Sorin tried—he really did—but the amused smile formed on his lips. “Do not laugh at me, Sorin Aditya,” she snapped, pointing a ?nger at him. “I like feeling clean, and I like my hair shiny. And I like clean clothes. If that makes me vain, I don’t care.” She shoved the last bit of meat into her mouth and crossed her arms with apout.

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