Page 70 of A Storm of Fire and Ash
But I kissed him.
Hard.
And he kissed me back before pulling away to say, “If you can’t love me like I love you, then just love me for right now before you leave me for good. One last time.”
A tear rolled down my cheek, and Landen cupped my face, bringing his lips back to mine.
I knew I shouldn’t be using him like this, especially since he just confessed his love, but I needed him—or someone who wasn’t the prince. I needed to feel anything but the ache in my chest. I didn’t take my lips off him as we faltered where no one could see us. The sky turned amber behind the ruin of my house. We found the haystacks, tucked behind half a wall still standing.
There, in the shadow of everything I’d lost, I pulled Landen harder into me and grabbed him by the waistline, undoing his trousers. I removed mine, but kept on my shirt and cloak, and then sat him down on the haystack as I climbed over him.
“Elara,” he whispered my name.
Before I sat myself down, I kissed him again. I could sense his hesitation, but I needed him.
He gave in—gave into something quiet and wordless, as I sank myself down on him.
His hands were gentle. His breath was warm against my skin. He didn’t speak, and I didn’t want him to.
For a little while, I didn’t think about the palace, or the scars, or the fire. Only the hush of soft moans in my ear, and the rhythm of something that didn’t hurt.
The aftermath was quiet.
Landen and I lay side by side on the crumpled hay, the broken silhouette of my cottage watching over us like a hollow shell. The sun had nearly vanished, casting the sky in bruised purples and soft gold. I listened to our breathing—the only sound left.
His fingers found mine. Rough from work, warm from holding me.
“I never stopped loving you, Elara,” he said softly, his voice barely louder than the breeze. “Even after that night… even when you vanished. I waited. Hoped. I think a part of me knew you weren’t gone. That you couldn’t be. I think I will always love you, and that’s okay that you don’t feel the same way. I would rather still be friends and have you in my life rather than not have you in it at all.”
His words caught me off guard—not because they were unexpected, but because I knew I didn’t love him back and that I just used him. Put my selfish needs first. He was so understanding—understood me so well—my heart nearly broke again.
I looked at him—his honest brown eyes, the tenderness there, the way he was still trying to give me comfort even after all of it. But the truth sat heavy in my chest, and I couldn’t lie to him. Not this time.
“Of course I want you in my life too, but as friends. I wish I could love you like you deserve to be loved… You deserve someone who can give you the world, Landen. And that someone isn’t me,” I whispered. “You’re my best friend. But I can’t give you more… I can’t love anyone because I don’t even love myself.” The words left a hollow echo inside me. Saying them out loud made them heavier somehow.
More real.
Landen looked like he wanted to protest, to argue that I was worth loving—but he didn’t. He just nodded slowly and squeezed my hand.
“You’ve always been a good friend,” I murmured. “More than I deserved.”
He smiled, a sad one, and looked away.
I sat up, brushing hay from my skin, pulling my cloak back over my shoulders. The cold crept in as the sun dipped lower. A chill pricked my spine—but it wasn’t from the wind.
Something shifted.
The hairs on the back of my neck stood upright.
I froze.
Eyes narrowing, I scanned the ruined fence line, the scattered debris, the skeletal tree near a barn. Shadows stretched long across the ground, but nothing moved.
Still—something was watching. Something that didn’t want to be seen.
“Landen, you need to go. Don’t come to the palace looking for me, alright?” My voice was barely audible.
He turned to me, concern flickering. “What? What is it?”
