Page 80 of A Reign of Roses
I didn’t hesitate because of him.
When my gaze dropped to those long, outstretched fingers, all I wanted was to grasp them and pull myself into his arms. It was all I’d wanted to do for months.
But I could think only of the spires and turrets of Shadowhold, visible now through the snow and trees. That domed, decorated one, Kane’s cozy study. The stained-glass tower—devoid of its usual vibrant colors due to the hour and the snow—Mari’s precious library. That highest point there, with the wind vane, Shadowhold’s temple, which I’d never stepped foot inside before.
Memories, people, warmth—all of it as it once was.
And yet I’d been through so much. I wasn’t sure all my new edges and angles would fit through the doors the same way.
“Arwen?” Kane’s voice was a bit raw.
We had been through more in the last day than I wanted to remember. He was worried about me, and that concern made me shiver again.
Kane’s brows pulled together as he said, lower this time, “Let’s get you warm, yeah?”
“Mhm.” But still, I didn’t move.
A dry wind rustled the few crackling leaves unwilling to fall from the trees above and swept snowflakes against my hair and the shell of my ear. The hind legs of a deer were visible, only briefly, moving through the dark green brush.
“Bird?”
“I’m not sure I can”—I swallowed—“can go back just yet.”
If my words worried him further, he didn’t let on. Kane simply stepped closer to me, his boots crunching against the snow, which blanketed twigs and dirt on the forest floor, and brought his hand up to my face before saying, “May I?”
My nod felt like an understatement, but it was all I could manage.
Kane’s eyes flickered with something like relief as he brought that hand to his mouth and breathed warm air onto it. Steam filtered into the space between us, the scent of mint and cedar from his breath thickening the air. All the while his steadfast, quicksilver eyes never left mine. Kane exhaled into his palm once more before bringing his now warmed hand across my cheek.
So gentle I shivered again, though this time not from the cold.
Kane’s eyes grew warm.
He brought that hand down to the bare skin of my neck, still exposed where his cloak was too big for my frame. Then across my shoulder, until he slipped underneath the garment as well as my blouse. When his rough fingers circled gently around to the back of my neck, I stumbled into him.
Warmth, and his heady male scent and broad, muscled body made my senses fuzzy and languid. One of Kane’s hands fisted into my hair, the other dragged me closer, snaking around my back, my waist—
My lips found his chest through the thick fabric of his shirt, and my hands roamed over his ribs and the curve of his strong abdomen and subtle dip of his collarbone. When I reached up on my toes—
He was groaning my name. Again, and again.
Breathing it. Repeating it like a prayer.
“Arwen.My Arwen.”And“My bird, my love—”
And then his lips were brushing—just barelybrushing—against my own. His nose sliding gently along mine. His hands on my face near-shaking with restraint. Those thumbs, caressing my jaw, waiting for a sign from me. Some indication of what it was I wanted.
I pulled him down into me, closing every gap between us save for our mouths.
He was thick and hard against my stomach, and though it had been the last thing on my mind when we’d stepped from that dizzying portal into these woods, suddenly a pulse of need spread through my body, blaring as loudly as a bell tower.
That need pooled between my legs and low in my stomach, beneath where my stitches had healed. My eyes fluttered open to find Kane’s simmering gaze on my lips.
His eyes were wholly black. Pure, pupil-black. Not a sliver of slate gray to be seen.
And his breaths—
Ratcheting out of him at a feverish pace. As if he’d been battling a great beast.
