Page 185 of The Ascended
I should have. Should have remembered my pride, my purpose, the deadly game of which I was still a part.
Instead, I curled my fingers into the fabric of his shirt and whispered, "don't you dare stop."
A growl tore from his throat as he moved, all pretense of restraint shattered. His hands seized my waist, spinning me so quickly my vision blurred. The impact of my back against the ornate dresser sent crystal bottles scattering. Quicksilver abandoned the glasses, racing in molten paths across the marble.
”I’m going to burn you alive, Thais" he growled, his voice scraped raw. "To make up for all the time wasted."
His mouth claimed mine, teeth catching my lower lip hard enough to draw blood. The metallic tang mixed with the taste of him—spearmint and liquor. My body responded with matching savagery, nails raking down his back, tearing at the fine fabric of his shirt until buttons scattered across the floor.
It began as a flicker in my belly, then spread—hot, aching, and utterly consuming. The warmth was more intense than it should have been. Gods, he truly was going to burn me alive. A distant warning drifted through my mind, but the sensation of his hands on my body snuffed it out.
The sound of ripping fabric sliced through the air as his hands fisted in my gown, tearing it from my waist to my feet. Cool air kissed my exposed skin, a momentary relief from the fever building within me, but his mouth followed immediately, scorching a path along my collarbone that left me gasping.
"This is what you wanted, isn't it?" he demanded, lifting me onto the dresser's edge. His hands forced my thighs apart, claiming the space between them as his territory. "Tell me, Thais. Tell me thatlittle mortal body of yours has been wet for me since I pulled you from that dance."
"Yes," I gasped, beyond pride, beyond pretense. My hands clutched at his shoulders, feeling the coiled power beneath his skin. The heat intensified, beads of sweat forming along my hairline, between my breasts. Too hot.
“Gods–” I whimpered.
His laugh was dark, almost cruel. "I’m right here." His fingers skimmed up my inner thighs, stopping just short of where I ached for him most. "No need to call out."
He dropped to his knees before me. His hands gripped my thighs hard enough to mark, spreading me wider, exposing me completely to his hungry gaze. The mirror caught our reflection—my disheveled form perched on the edge of the dresser, his kneeling before me like a worshiper at an altar of flesh.
"Look," he murmured, breath hot against my most sensitive skin. "Look how badly your body betrays you."
The heat beneath my skin spiked suddenly, painfully. A whimper. Something was wrong. The room was an oven.
Xül didn't seem to notice, his focus entirely on the space between my thighs. "Beg me," he commanded, mouth hovering just above where I wanted him most. "Beg me to taste you."
The inferno raged hotter, my skin prickling with discomfort bordering on pain. I leaned my head back against the cool surface of the mirror, seeking relief from the fire that seemed determined to consume me from within. Was I burning out again?
As my skull met the wall, a breath ghosted across my ear.
"This is an illusion." The voice was graveled stone and ancient dust. A voice I had heard plenty of times before. On the shore of Draknavor. In the prison. In the clearing.
The voice belonged to the damned. And it only had one master.
"This is the third trial, Thais. Get out of there NOW."
Ice replaced the fire in my veins, understanding roaring through me. My eyes flew open, gaze instinctively drawn upward—wherea shimmering viewing portal hung suspended in the air above us, its edges rippling.
I looked down to find Xül—no, not Xül—staring up at me with anticipation, his mouth poised to claim the most intimate part of me. But his eyes held none of the depth, none of the ancient sorrow that defined the real Warden. They were flat, empty, like painted glass.
Horror crashed through me, followed by understanding.Desire Consumes.Give In And Burn.Not warnings—rules.
Nothing is what it seems.
I scrambled backward, nearly falling from the dresser in my haste to put distance between myself and the thing that wore Xül's face. It reached for me, confusion replacing hunger in those empty eyes.
"Thais?" it questioned, the perfect mimicry of his voice sending fresh shivers down my spine. "What's wrong?"
"You're not real," I said. "None of this is real."
The illusion's lips curved into an evil grin.
"Clever girl," it purred, rising to its feet with unnatural grace. "Most don't realize until they're already on fire."
With a cry that was half rage, half despair, I lunged for the door. My fingers closed around the handle, and for one terrifying moment, I feared it would be locked. But the door swung open, and I burst through it into the corridor beyond, not daring to look back.
