Page 129 of Darling Wildfire
“I need your words, Atlas,” I ground out.
“I’m not going anywhere,” he said finally.
I stared at him for a long moment and nodded. I waited for him to move his hand so I could leave but he didn’t. Instead, I watched his gaze sweep across my chest and tattoos, landing on the one that if someone ever bothered to stare long enough, it always caught their eye. It dominated one side of my chest and swept down to my side. Heat flooded me at his attention and his eyes darkened. They flickered up to me briefly before going back down to follow the design along my body.
“I never noticed that one before,” he said quietly, his brow furrowed.
I huffed a laugh. “Well, I do have a lot. Sometimes they all blend together.”
“A wolf and a raven.”
The wolf was running down my chest, twisting back in near my abs with his mouth open towards a raven that was in flight as though his path would cut across my body and the two would circle each other. His fingers twitched on my chest as though he wanted to trace the ink. His touch made my chest tighten and the urge to touch him back was incredibly strong.
“Why did you get that?” Atlas asked.
“I have a feeling you know, my viking—” I’d been meaning to addfriendto the end of that sentence but for some reason my voice stalled in my throat, leaving it sounding an awful lot like an endearment. A slow smile curled his lips as he tilted his head and studied me intently.
“I do know—wolves and ravens symbolize many things inNorse mythology.”
“Success in an upcoming battle being one of them,” I said. “A lot of good it’s done—”
“You’re still alive aren’t you?” Atlas said, his eyes sharpening.
“That’s fair,” I admitted.
I ran a hand over where my raven was, since his was on my wolf. It was one of my favorite tattoos although I was speaking truthfully when I said I had a lot. Sometimes when people looked, they only saw the ink as a whole, not the individual art.
Atlas seemed to remember he had his hand on my chest because he blinked rapidly as though coming out of a trance and his fingers curled ever so slightly like he wanted to keep them there. He reluctantly dropped his hand.
“Thank you for stopping me today,” he said quietly.
“Anytime you need me as a punching bag, you just let me know,” I winked at him. “Especially since you’re not sorry for giving me these.” I waved a hand over my face. He gave a breathless laugh and looked at me sheepishly.
“Alright, I’m sorry for messing with your pretty face,” he said.
“Aw, you think I’m pretty?” I teased.
He fixed me with another one of his smoldering looks before he turned towards the sink.
“I’d use a few other words beforepretty,” he said gruffly and just like that our playful banter shifted to heated undertones. “Especially when you’re still covered in blood from a fight.”
He met my eyes in the mirror and we stared at each other for a moment that went on just a little too long.
“Fuck,” I muttered. I ran a hand through my hair, breaking the moment. “You say things like that—”
“I shouldn’t,” Atlas interrupted. “Not here at least.”
We stared at each other again, so many things going unsaid between us. Finally, I nodded.
“I’m glad you didn’t leave us, Atlas,” I said.
“Me too.”
With a last smile, I left him alone in the bathroom, still feeling every inch of where he’d touched me and feeling like we’d only added more question marks to whatever the fuck was going on between us. All I knew for sure was that walking away from him in that bathroom only made me feel more empty and unsatisfied and I didn’t have any idea what that meant.
64
THERON
