“Attempting to not commence with said debauching.” His hand slid around to my rear, where his fingers pressed into my flesh.
A throbbing pulse of awareness shuttled through me. “In…in case you’re not aware, you have an odd way of not engaging in debauchery.”
“I know,” he replied. “Probably because I don’t have much experience with everything debauching entails.”
Surprise flickered through me. I opened my mouth to ask if he meant what I thought he did—because surely, as a god, he couldn’t—but his lips found mine once more. And kisses…his kisses were very distracting. His lips moved against mine in a slow, drugging way as if he were sipping from my lips. It felt like hours, even though I knew it was only minutes. Not nearly long enough, and then those kisses slowed even more, gentling. There were no more unexpected pricks of his fangs, and with each sweep of his lips and flick of his tongue, I knew we would go no further than this.
And despite how I’d challenged him and his somewhat annoying and surprising restraint, this…this coming to an end was okay. It was the wise thing because forgetting the way he kissed, the pleasure he’d given me, and how I felt now would be hard enough. Anything more would be impossible.
His lips tugged slowly on mine, leaving me in a pleasant haze as his head lifted. I opened my eyes, finding him scanning the elms.
It took a moment for concern to reach me. “Do you hear something?”
“Nothing like before.” He looked at me as he slid his hand down my leg and then away. “If I stayed, I think I’d find myself obsessed with trying to count just how many freckles you have.”
What he said…it tugged at my heart, and I inhaled sharply. I did not need to feel that.
“But I need to go.”
Forcing my grip on his shoulders to loosen and unsure of how my hands had even gotten there, I nodded.
“I should’ve left already,” he added. “I didn’t expect to linger tonight.”
I ignored the burn of disappointment I felt in the pit of my stomach. “I think tonight was…entirely unexpected.”
“I can agree with that,” he replied and touched my cheek. The act surprised me. Catching a curl, he tugged it straight and then slowly wrapped it around his finger. He stared at the strand of hair, smoothing his thumb over it. “Will you be heading home now to a bed far more comfortable than a forest floor?”
I nodded.
But he didn’t move from atop me, his weight still pleasant in an intoxicating sort of way. While he appeared momentarily engrossed in my hair, I took the opportunity. Seized it, actually. I swept my gaze over his brow and the proud line of his nose, the angular height of his cheekbones, and those shockingly soft lips. I took in the cut of his jaw and the faint scar in his chin. I committed those details to memory as I had the feel of his flesh against mine and how my lips still tingled from the touch of his.
I blew out a soft breath. “If you’re to leave, you will need to let go of my hair.”
“True,” he murmured, easing his finger from the twist. He didn’t let the hair fall. Instead, he swept it back behind my ear with a gentleness I decided I also could not remember.
He dipped his head then, kissing the center of my forehead, and that was another thing I would make sure to forget. Then, Ash rose with the same grace he had when he’d faced those creatures.
I sat up quickly, making sure the slip covered all the unmentionables as best as it could. I kept stealing glances, my gaze wandering low to where I swore I could still see the hard ridge of his arousal. He was silent, then donned his shirt. Moonlight glinted off the silver band around his biceps as he set about pulling on his boots. The last thing he picked up was the scabbard and sword.
Ash faced me then, and his stare… I could feel it as if it were a physical touch along my cheek, on my breasts, and then down the length of a bare leg. A heat followed that stare, one I had a sinking suspicion would taunt me during sleepless nights.
He looked out into the woods again. “Don’t wait too long to return,” he advised.
My brows rose as I tamped down whatever antagonistic thing surely sharpened my tongue. I didn’t know if his order came from a place of assumed authority or one of concern, and neither was something I was accustomed to. It wasn’t often that anyone told me what to do outside of being shooed away, especially these last three years.
He stepped toward me and then stopped, his hair falling to rest against his cheek and his jaw, brushing his shoulder. “I…” He seemed to struggle with how to continue.
“It was nice talking with you,” I said, speaking the honest to gods truth. Ash went completely silent and still, and my cheeks heated. “Even though you did spy upon me,” I added quickly. “Most inappropriately.”
A faint smile appeared. No hint of teeth, but his features warmed. “It was nice talking to you. Truly,” he said, and my silly heart skipped around in my chest. “Be careful.”
“You, too,” I managed.
Ash remained there for a moment before turning, his steps barely making a sound as he walked away. My smile faded a little as I watched him go until I could no longer see him in the dense shadows. There was a strange ache in my chest. A sense of loss that had nothing to do with where the kisses had or hadn’t led, nor even the absence of contact. It felt like meeting a friend and then immediately losing them. That was what it really felt like. What we’d talked about seemed like things one only shared with friends. The other stuff…well, I didn’t think friends shared that.
But it was a loss of some sort because I didn’t think I would see him again. That if he still watched, I would be as unaware as I’d been before. That maybe he realized that this had already gone too far. I thought this because he’d never asked for a name.
I was still a stranger to him.
I shook my head and rose to my feet, finding my gown in the moonlight. Pulling it on, I heard a sound that had been strangely absent.
The birds.
They called out to one another, singing their songs as life stirred once more in the woods.
Chapter 14
“There was a riot last night in Croft’s Cross. It started as a protest against the Crown and what little was being done to stop the Rot, but the guards turned it into a riot by the way they responded.” Sitting at the foot of my bed, Ezra dragged a hand down her face. She’d shown a little bit after breakfast was served, looking as if she had gotten even less sleep than I had. Shadows smudged the skin under her eyes. “Six were killed. Far less than anticipated—as terrible as that sounds. But many were injured. Fire destroyed a few homes and businesses. Some claiming that the guards set them.”
“I hadn’t heard.” Absently twisting my hair into a thick rope, I sank farther into the faded emerald cushions of the chair placed before the window. The view overlooked the Dark Elms, a place that seemed like a different world now. “Let me guess, the guards were acting on the Crown’s orders?”
“They were,” she noted, falling silent as she looked around my bedchamber. Her gaze drifted over the narrow wardrobe, the only other piece of furniture other than the chair I sat in, the bed, and the chest at the footboard. Books formed leaning towers against the wall since there were no shelves to display them. I had no trinkets or serving trollies, paintings of Maia, the Primal of Love, Beauty, and Fertility. Or Keella. Or lush settees providing ample seating. It was nothing like her or Tavius’s chambers. It used to get to me—the differences—even when I was the Maiden. Now, I was just used to it.