Page 56 of A Kiss of Embers
Silence echoed in the stairwell as they stared back at each other, and judging by the twitch of his mouth, she knew he was contemplating her offer. Finally, he spoke. “Running away will only offer more problems than solutions. Besides, it will not erase the danger of the blood oath. There is always a risk I will get you with child.”
“Tell me you don’t want me. Tell me you don’t want me in your life.”
Their hands dropped limply at their sides.
“I can’t tell you that.”
Seraphina’s wings drooped as her hope slowly deflated. Throughout their dalliance, she had watched him fight for a lot of things. But he was unwilling to fight for her. No matter how difficult, love was always worth fighting for.
Wasn’t it?
She released his hand and turned away from him. Her wings still drooped to the floor, betraying the heart within her chest melting beneath the hard flames of rejection. She never should have snuck into Attleglade. She never should have—
Bastien grabbed her hand and spun her toward him, and she grunted in surprise as she bumped against his chest, and their lips smashed together in a crash of blazing passion. She felt it then—he was refusing to let her go no matter how difficult and uncertain their future seemed.
She felt it in the way he claimed her waist with both of his large, sturdy hands. In the way he backed her into the wall and deepened the kiss. In the way his mouth devoured hers in a hungry embrace.
“I hate you,” she gasped the moment she broke away for air, only to return for more.
His grip tightened around her waist. “I hate you so, so much.”
Yet, she felt his love for her in every burning touch, in every tender kiss, in every murmur against her mouth. He was everything she should have shunned, everything she feared she could not have. But for now, he was hers. And nothing else mattered.
Someone cleared their throat below, and they leaped apart, only to find Sylvain paused on the bottom stair, eyes hard as he glanced between the two of them and then toward the closed bedroom door beside them.
“Ashryn told me you were here,” the man said to Seraphina in an accusing, distrustful tone. “I worried she might be hallucinating.” His eyes shifted between them once again. “Now I know it’s true.”
Bastien interlaced his fingers behind his head, adopting a casual demeanor. “Thank the autumns you’re here. Ash was starting to get annoying with all her demands.”
Thankfully, the jest eased the tension in the man’s face and shoulders as he climbed the stairs. “How strange. She has not once demanded anything of me since her injury. It leaves it up to chance and guessing to figure out what’s on her mind.”
But then Bastien stopped Sylvain with a hand on his arm, and his jesting expression transitioned into something more serious. “I’m glad Ash has you.” And then he scowled. “If you ever break her heart, I will hunt you down and gut you like a fat squirrel hoarding nuts in the middle of a blistering winter.”
Seraphina wasn’t sure what blazed in Sylvain’s eyes. A challenge to prove himself worthy of Bastien’s trust? A fervor to remain true and unyielding to Ashryn? Either way, the man simply nodded and entered the woman’s room, followed closely by Bastien.
She leaned against the door frame and watched as Sylvain poured a cup of water from a jug on the opposite side of the room while Ashryn snatched Bastien’s hand and pulled him close to speak in private. But by leaning a little closer, Seraphina caught every word.
“You do realize my door is as thin as bird bones, right?” Ashryn whispered.
He winced. “You heard nothing.”
“Oh, I heard plenty.” She raised a suggestive eyebrow, but instead of remarking on the heated kiss and the near tumble on the stairs, she said, “You never told me about the blood oaths. Did you not trust me?”
He shook his head. “Of course, I trust you. I didn’t want the pity.”
“I could never pity you, Bas. I never realized how serious your situation was. I knew it was bad, but not this bad.”
However, Sylvain approached, and Bastien dropped her hand and murmured, “We can talk later.” And then he turned and pointed to the other man. “Like a squirrel, Sylvain. Like a squirrel.”
Bastien joined her at the door but kept it open as he descended the stairs, and she followed. She didn’t like the serious note in his eyes nor the pinched skin around his mouth. To try to ease his worries, she slipped her hand into his and squeezed.
“Blood oaths can be unbound.”
“Cranky Cricket would never allow it.”
She raised both eyebrows. “Cranky Cricket?”
“Uhh…yeah. I suppose I need to catch you up on the hierarchy in Attleglade. I’ll do it on the way.”
