Page 41 of A Realm of Fire and Ash

His knuckles graze over my cheek, and his hand gently cards through my hair. Behind me, I feel Caius's hard erection pressing into my back.

Aggonid pulls back, his eyes dark with desire yet tinged with sadness. I see my own longing reflected in his face, and the combination is both beautiful and heartbreaking. He opens his mouth to speak before he closes it, seeming to change his mind about what he's going to say. Instead, he says, "And I vow to ask High King Finian to bring your message to this Wilder."

And then he takes hold of my face and draws my lips to his own, and I surrender. This isn't like kissing Caius. This is like falling into a starry night sky, surrounded by more beauty than I can comprehend, and the only thing I can do is keep falling. It's a kiss of possession, a scorching, passionate claiming that promises far more than we bargained for.

His hands grasp the back of my neck, and his mouth moves with mine, not exploring, but knowing, exactly where to caress, exactly what pressure to use in order to tease a moan from the depths of my throat. It conquers me, and I know that if I let him, he could consume my soul as easily as he consumes my body in this single kiss.

His taste is molten honey, a mingling of heaven and hell, and I cling to him as though I could drown in it. He draws my legs around his waist, hoisting me as though I were weightless. He presses me against Caius's chest, and I revel in the feel of two hearts beating in perfect harmony with my own. Pinned between two demon fae, I'm overcome by an ache so exquisite I can scarcely breathe.

Aggonid rips himself away, dropping me as though I'd burned him, and I feel as though I've been deprived of something essential. Caius utters words that sound both like a prayer and a curse as he scoops me up to go after him. I catch two glowing red orbs in Aggonid's gaze before he storms away.

The moment is gone, and I’m bereft, my body and my heart transformed by the power of his kiss. I feel as though I've just seen a glimpse of something I'm not meant to understand. Something I'm not sure I will ever experience again.

Why does it feel as though I've been cleaved in two?

CHAPTER ELEVEN

MORTE

It's pitch dark, and I feel trapped. I've locked myself in a closet, overcome with a grief I can't understand. Aggonid is somewhere on the other side of the room, and Caius pleads for me to open the door, but I ignore him.

Surrounded by linens and towels, I remain huddled in a corner, trying to make sense of how I got here. Confusing emotions run through me: longing, guilt, rejection, feelings of inadequacy. As hard as I try, I can't seem to get a grip on any of it.

Being in here reminds me of my small treehouse in Castanea, where after a long mission, I'd seek solace in the quiet. But the softness of the cotton linens and the warmth of the closet doesn't offer me the same peace this time. Instead, all it does is remind me that I'm trapped in a place I don't belong.

I can hear the voices on the other side of the door, deep and authoritative—Aggonid and Caius engaging in a fierce debate that I can't make out. A third joins them, and the ferocity of the argument builds until it is suddenly silenced. My heart races as I wait for the approaching footsteps to reach my door.

"Morte?" There's a soft tap on the wood.

It isn't Aggonid and it isn't Caius, either.

"What?" I croak, mortified that I now have yet another person witnessing my petulant-child act.

The phoenix who can enter the most dangerous missions Bedlam has to offer but hides when her feelings get too strong.

"Can I come in?"

I feel around in the dark, and after determining I might be able to fit one more in here, I say, "Okay."

The door opens, catching on my chain. Light spills in, and a giant hulking shadow fills the doorway. He squeezes in, joining me on the floor after he maneuvers the chain so he can shut the closet door.

"You okay?" Azazel asks, his voice a deep rumble.

A tear-riddled laugh escapes me. "Yeah."

"You want to talk about it?" His scent invades my nostrils, a warm, spiced aroma.

"No."

"Alright."

We sit in the darkness for what seems like an eternity before he speaks again.

"Looks like you're eating and sleeping better than the night I found you. I worried something happened to you when you weren't there the next day."

"You said you were going to stop by in the morning." I shift to face him, though I can barely see him in the dark. Fae have pretty good eyesight, but the shadows are different here.

"I did."

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