Page 87 of The Shadows Beyond
Carefully, Julien rearranged them so that Cinn was slumped against his chest, in between his parted legs. He pressed Cinn’s head to his ribs, keeping it there with a hand that rubbed soft circles into his scalp.With his other hand, he gingerly peeled back Cinn’s left sleeve to look at his wrist. The gold band, still slightly warm to the touch, had left a canvas of destruction on Cinn’s soft skin. A circlet of grotesque, raised welts, with the surrounding skin charred and blistered. Julien brushed his fingers near the burn that was furthest up his arm. His skin was too hot—even the air around his wrist was warm with residual heat. His stomach twisted in sympathy at the pain he’d felt—he’d surelyfeel—once he woke up. There would be damage to Cinn’s hand too, where he’d tried to remove the band, but Julien couldn’t face looking at that right now.
“Mon ange,”he murmured into Cinn’s hair, gently lowering his ruined arm. Cinn shifted in his arms, but didn’t wake. Julien pressed his palm against Cinn’s forehead. He felt cold. Too cold.
How much longer was Darcy going to be?
What if she didn’t make it in time?
At any moment, one of the umbraphages could escape again, find them here in this alley.
And Julien would be powerless to protect them.
“I’m sorry,” he said to Cinn, torturing himself by replaying that moment earlier where he didn’t reach for the motes at his fingertips, didn’t protect him, only stood there and awaited fate.
Wasn’t that what he was doing right now, really?
He twisted the vial of Zenolique around in his hand. Darcy was correct, now wasn’t the time to be experimenting, but neither was it the time to be unconscious and defenceless, slumped against a wall.
He tipped Cinn’s head back and placed the vial at the back of his throat, emptying every last drop of the milky blue substance into him.
Wait. Darcy hadn’t told him how much to administer. What if it was only meant to be a drop? Making a strangled sound, Julien clutched both sides of Cinn’s head and pressed it to his lips.What have you done?His fingers flew to Cinn’s pulse point on his neck, but the fumbling shake of his hand made the effort futile.
Should he stick his fingers down Cinn’s throat?
Although, what if that caused him to choke on it?
Cursing himself every vile name under the sun, he pulled Cinn tightly against him, leaning his head against his shoulder now, and resorted to praying.
Then, he felt it: the smallest stir of Cinn’s body, the slightest tickle of a fluttering eyelash against his cheek. Julien gasped, pulling back Cinn’s head to see his eyes wereopen. Beautiful hazel-gold orbs of pure sunshine. Eyes that were looking at him sleepily, dazed and disorientated. Relief coloured his face as he gazed up at Julien.
His expression was also communicating something else. Something else entirely. The slightest flicker of longing. A soft, lingering gaze that dropped to Julien’s lips before looking back up into his eyes with dilated pupils.
Cinn’s bottom lip slid between his teeth as he gave him a barely perceptible teasing smile that played at the corners of his mouth. Then Cinn’s hand reached up to fist Julien’s shirt, as if steadying himself, tethering himself to him.
Julien swallowed.
Wordlessly, they stared at each other, existing in the space between heartbeats, each frozen still.
Anticipation hung in the air like static electricity.
As one, they moved their heads towards each other, drawn together by an invisible force, magnets irresistibly pulled toward each other.
When their lips touched, the rest of the world faded away.
Their first kiss was trembling, tentative. Cinn wrapped his arms around Julien’s chest, anchoring himself in his lap, as Julien brushed his lips over his, feather-light, basking in their glorious softness, as soft as they’d always looked. Cinn exhaled an unsteady breath, and for a heart-wrenching moment, Julien feared he was about to push him away,to get up and walk away again, but then Cinn pressed his lips firmly against Julien’s own. Then he did it again. And again.
Julien needed no more encouragement. He fused his mouth to Cinn’s, allowing no space between them. He cupped Cinn’s neck, then glided gentle fingers through his hair while his other hand ran up and down his spine.
Julien’s teeth sought out the plump swell of Cinn’s bottom lip, pulling his lips open so his tongue could slip inside. The delightful taste of mint sweets danced across his tongue. Mint sweets and sunlight breaking through clouds. Moving his tongue slowly in a gentle caress, he felt the delicious sensation of Cinn’s own moving against it.
Cinn ran his hand up Julien’s arm, gooseflesh erupting in its wake. Then Julien was weightless, floating with an expansive feeling in his chest, as if Cinn was filling him with air. Filling him with life.
Out of Cinn’s mouth came a tiny sigh of contentment, and Julien wanted to swallow it, devour it, devour Cinn.
So he did.
He lost himself completely to the kiss, feeling the world spin around them and enjoying the dizzy whirlwind they’d created. Julien pulled Cinn’s body even closer to him, gripping his hip as hard as he dared. He wanted to melt into him, to climb into him. He settled for exploring every inch of Cinn’s mouth, carving into it with his tongue, his hand now fisting Cinn’s hair as he pushed their lips together.
Julien broke away to kiss Cinn’s forehead, drag his lips over his jaw, kiss the pulse point on his neck, blissfully beating. Then he pulled Cinn back into his chest, to feel his warm, alive body against his.“Mon dieu merci! J’ai cru… J’ai cru que je t’avais perdu, Cinn,”he breathed into Cinn’s hair, feeling his own heartbeat finally slow down in time with his deep, shuddering breaths.
