Page 16 of Live To Tell

“You triggered me by fighting,” he retorts and rubs at his fingers, mumbling about me biting him.

“The stone knew I’d stop the shadows you possess from touching it and influenced you against me.”

“That’s not true.”

I scoff, heart still thumping, but with fear of what I just witnessed. “And if I took the stone and hid it?”

“No!” His eyes go wider.

“That response tells me you can’t keep that item, Rowan.” The time he attempted to blackmail me with Holly’s coat, he wanted help from someone ‘with Blackwood magic running through their veins’. There must be something already inside Rowan for me to prompt them easily.

Could this Willowbrook stone absorb and amplify the Blackwood magic I gave him too?

“I can’t believe you bit me—and not in a good way,” he complains.

“How could I ever bite you in a good way?”

“I won’t answer that.” He half-smiles.

“Honestly, Rowan,” I mutter. “Have some common sense.”

His hand sneaks into the back of my hair, and he brushes a thumb across the nape. “Should I trust you now you’ve tasted my blood and have me pinned to the floor?”

“I barely tasted you,” I retort. “Grazes produce little blood.”

“Mmm. But you’re still holding me down.” Fingers digging into my neck, he lifts his head and pulls my bottom lip into his mouth.

Taking advantage of my surprise for the second time this evening, Rowan flips me back over, pressing his mouth and body hard against mine. I could easily send him careening halfway across the room and ensure he does hit his head this time.

But I don’t.

Rowan’s kissed me like this before, the craving he suppresses escaping as his tongue tangles with mine, devouring, wanting more. My preference for hard kisses recently moved away from just a preference, and towards our shared yearning for more than kisses.

So when Rowan slips his hand beneath my shirt, and runs fingers along my side, the touch ignites desire rather than affront. I delve my hands beneath his T-shirt, Rowan’s skin softer than I imagined, the muscles beneath taut against my fingertips. His fingers don’t move anywhere else, instead lightly stroking the skin he’s found, and I dig my nails into his side as the kiss continues, our limbs entwining.

For the first time ever, I'm shaking because everything about this situation creates a girl who’s a million miles from the one in careful, total control of her body and mind. I’ve experienced a lot of change since I arrived at Thornwood and this I’m struggling to deal with most.

Rowan pulls his mouth away, an invitation for me to move, but I don’t want to escape from under him or lose his touch on my skin. Flames can never touch me, but the heat licking every inch of my skin burns arousal, and I’m aching in places I never thought I’d ache, the heat from our fight now pooling low in my belly.

Rowan’s magic forged with mine many times, and a desire for a more intimate connection surges between us as that happens, but this is different. Rowan’s magic isn’t what’s pulling us towards joining physically, nor is mine.

Neither of us speak, our breaths mingling, as his hand moves further up my side, but he stops as my own hand tenses against his back.

“I don’t like this,” I say hoarsely.

His eyes widen. “Really?”

“What’s happening?” Rowan side-eyes where the stone rolled beneath his dresser as his heart thrums against mine. “What magic is in that?” I ask.

He runs his fingers along my lips, swollen from his harsh kiss. “I told you. Power.”

“I don’t understand. I’ve never wanted something that badly,” I say. “My magic wanted it. Whatever the power your stone holds, I don't think Blackwood magic should merge with it.”

Rowan slowly pulls his hand from beneath my shirt, the trail of sensation shivering along my skin. He pushes himself up, caging me with his arms, palms on the floor behind me as I look up at him.

Don’t say it.

The small voice in my mind. The one from the warehouse.

---