Page 83 of A Legacy of Poison and Lies

“I can’t look at you like I don’t want to do anything but fuck you, taste you, worship you every damned day of my life. I can’t look at you like I’m just a friend and fine with that, no matter how hard I try to conceal this thing so that every person we meet, Fae or human doesn’t see it. It’s why I left Virian, before I even knew the truth of it. I can’t look at you like I’m not…” He released her chin, ran a hand through his hair again.

Zylah braced herself against the side of the passageway, her back pressing against the rock as that need turned into an ache, his words settling over her. She’d fought against the pull to him for so long, too afraid to voice whatever it was between them, as if speaking it out loud would breathe life into it.

“I’m tired,” she began, and Holt shook his head, schooling his features back to neutral as he waited for whatever she was going to say. She tugged at one of the laces on his jacket, urging him not to move away from her. “I’m tired of shutting it all out,” she whispered, looking up at him through her lashes.

Holt took a step towards her, one arm above her head on the rock, bracketing her against him. “Tell me what you want, Zylah.” His eyes searched hers. “Say it.” His other hand found her face, fingers threading into her hair, the warm pad of his thumb tracing her face.

Zylah looked up at him, his mouth so close to hers she’d only have to angle her head to get what she wanted. She didn’t fight the feeling. Didn’t try to conceal the shift she knew he could sense in her. His eyes darkened with the same need she felt coursing through every inch of her body, and her voice was breathless as at last she said, “Kiss me.”

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Holtclosedthelastof the space between them, his lips crashing against hers, his tongue sweeping in to demand all of her at once, and Zylah kissed him back just as fiercely. His hand remained threaded in her hair, the other fell to her waist, his grip firm and solid like he had no intention of letting her go.

Zylah arched into his touch with a breathy moan, the swell of his muscles flush against her body as her fingers curled into the ends of his hair.

There was no room for thought, only the feel of him pressed against her and her frantic need for more. As Zylah angled her hips for the friction she so desperately craved, Holt pinned her in place with his own, the thick length of his arousal pressing against her stomach and an ache settling between her thighs. She tore at the laces of his jacket without breaking their kiss, demanding to feel more of him, to touch him before she burned away into nothing with the need coursing through her.

Holt’s hands swept down her body, fingers pressing into her thighs as he eased her up to wrap them around his waist, pinning her to him with one arm. Zylah locked her legs behind him, her back scraping against tree roots as she arched into him further and he growled a low sound of approval.

He lifted the hem of her sweater, his rough skin tracing against the softness of her stomach and running along the waistline of her trousers. This. Him. She had wanted it for so long. Fought it. Shoved it down in that empty pit inside herself. She shivered as his fingers swept up and down as if he needed to touch her everywhere all at once.

Holt pulled back just enough to look at her, enough for her to still feel the way his heart beat just as furiously as her own, chests heaving as they held each other’s heated gazes.

She drew him back to her, and it was all the invitation he needed to dip his fingers beneath her trousers, another low growl sounding from deep in his chest as his fingers found the wetness pooling between her thighs. He claimed her mouth again as he eased her underwear aside, his thumb finding the exact spot she wanted him to as two fingers slid inside her. Zylah cried out against his mouth, but he captured the sound with a kiss, his fingers and thumb building a steady rhythm, her legs clamping around him as every muscle in her body tightened.

“Zylah,” Holt said roughly against her lips, his fingers moving faster as he kissed her again. Zylah couldn’t speak, the delicious tension coiling tighter until every inch of her skin was on fire and she gave herself over to it, to him, to the way she felt in his arms.

Her fingers fisted into his shirt, his warmth and his scent enveloping her, his powerful body flush against hers as Zylah whimpered into his mouth, her release stealing the breath from her lungs and leaving her shaking in his arms.

“Fuck,” Holt groaned, fingers and thumb slowing as he trailed kisses along her jaw and down the sensitive flesh of her throat, gripping her tightly as ripples of pleasure echoed through her.

He pulled back again to look down at her, eyes hooded with desire and his ragged breathing matching her own. Zylah held his gaze, biting down on her swollen lip as he eased his fingers out of her, his thumb still tracing its idle circles. She mourned the loss of him instantly, his hand tracing up her side to rock her against him, her hands tugging at his belt to return the favour. Holt’s mouth collided with hers a heartbeat later, her fingers grappling with the top of his trousers as he strained against them. But as she dipped her hand to reach for him, a cry echoed through the caves.

They both stilled, their frantic breaths the only sound for a moment just as a thrall shrieked in the distance. Holt released her gently, taking half a step back as his heated gaze swept over her. His thumb traced across her swollen mouth before he stole another kiss, grabbing her hand to lead her through the caves without saying a word, both of them straining to listen for how close the thralls might be.

Anticipation snaked its way up Zylah’s spine as she fought to calm her racing heart. The thralls had been tracking them, but why follow them here? She focused on steadying her breathing as Daizin and Laydan met them in one of the passageways, smoothing a hand over her sweater.

“Only one exit?” Holt asked Daizin in a way that said they all knew it was a lie.

The Fae ground his jaw together for a moment. “This way.”

“What about your little friend?” Laydan glanced over his shoulder to Zylah, one eyebrow raised.

“Kopi will find us.”

Holt released Zylah’s hand only to summon her sword and hand it over to her. Her fingers grazed his as she took it from him, trying not to think about everywhere his hands had been a few moments before. The corner of his mouth tilted up for a moment as if he’d known exactly where her thoughts had taken her.

“There’s been a group of thralls outside of Morren since we arrived,” Daizin said quietly as they followed him through more passageways. He came to a stop, pressing a hand to a rock with vines crisscrossing the surface before raising an eyebrow at Holt expectantly.

“You can get us into an ancient tomb, but you can’t get us out of here?” Holt asked, one eyebrow raised at Laydan. But he didn’t wait for a response, he raised his palm to the surface, the vines receding, rock shaking as his power bled into it. Small pieces of rock and dirt cascaded down on either side of it as fresh air hit them, the darkness just beginning to peel away and giving way to the dull grey of dawn.

“What other tricks can you perform?” Laydan asked, clapping his hands together silently, ignoring Holt’s question entirely.

Holt frowned for a moment but didn’t rise to the bait, just as Kopi hooed softly and flew down from outside to land on Zylah’s shoulder.

“Can he tell us how many there are?” Laydan asked with an amused smile.

Thralls screamed in reply, closer than before, and Zylah’s grip on her sword tightened. They still couldn’t evanesce, and with the effects of the vanquicite searing in her veins, she knew she wasn’t likely to last long in a fight. Still, she would make it count, no matter what.

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