Chapter 46 Scarlett
CHAPTER 46
SCARLETT
S carlett woke to fingers brushing gently down her cheek, and she leaned slightly into the touch. Her eyes fluttered open to find Sorin crouched before her, his cloak already around his shoulders and most of the camp packed up. Sloan, Finn, and Callan had just finished clipping their bags to their saddles. Eliza was apparently still keeping Callan from coming near her until she woke.
“Hey, Love,” Sorin said quietly, a soft smile on his lips.
His voice, his words, snapped something wide awake inside her. “Don’t call me that,” she replied. She tried to push herself into a sitting position, but her side was stiff where her wound ached at the movement. Sorin’s hands were instantly there, helping her up.
“I want to check your wound before we go,” he told her as she pulled her legs free of her bedroll.
“Can’t Eliza check it?” she asked.
“I suppose she could, but I tend to be someone who needs to see something to believe it, so I will need to see it myself to believe it is indeed fine,” he answered.
Scarlett shot him an unimpressed glare as he helped her to her feet. She went and saw to her needs, and when she returned, her bedroll was already rolled up, and Sorin was securing it to Eirwen’s saddle. As if he sensed her presence, he looked over his shoulder at her. The corner of his mouth tilted up, but a moment later, his lips thinned.
The reason stepped into her path a moment later.
“Scarlett,” Callan said, his hands in his pockets.
“Good morning, Callan,” she said softly.
“You are speaking,” he breathed in relief.
Scarlett tilted her head at the reaction. She supposed she had been pretty reclusive yesterday.
“How is your wound? How are you feeling?” He reached for her hand, and she stepped back. She saw the hurt flicker in his eyes.
Scarlett swallowed. “I’m fine, Callan. My injury is sore, but I suppose when one is pierced with a dagger that is to be expected for a few days.”
“Are your horses ready to go, Prince?” Sorin asked as he made his way to them, a jar in his hand. “I am going to check her wound and then we need to get moving. I am sure Mikale and Lord Tyndell have a host not far behind us.”
“We are ready,” Callan ground out.
“Good. Eliza has some extra black ashwood arrows for you and your guards. You will need them before we cross the border,” Sorin replied with a jerk of his chin in Eliza’s direction.
Callan held his stare for a minute before he stalked in her direction. Scarlett reached for her tunic hem and lifted her shirt. While Sorin removed the bandage, he said, “Please, for the love of Anala, if it starts to hurt today, tell me. We can stop and apply more ointment until we can see the Healer this afternoon.”
Scarlett said nothing as he unscrewed the jar and handed her the lid. “It still looks clean, so we shouldn’t need the antiseptic this morning,” he continued, dipping his finger in the jar. “It might be a little cold.” Scarlett hissed at the first contact. Sorin’s eyes flickered to hers with a smirk. “I warned you.”
“If only you had extended the same courtesy about me being the weapon your queen is searching for,” she snapped back.
“There’s the snippy tongue I have missed,” he remarked, dipping his fingers back in the jar.
“My tongue is still none of your concern.”
“Had we been alone last night, I think it would have very much been my concern,” he retorted simply, wiping his fingers on his pants before taking the lid from her hand.
He left her staring after him as he walked the jar back to the saddle bag attached to Eirwen’s saddle. When he returned, he held her cloak in his hand and tossed something to her. “I know you are likely not hungry, but please try and eat something.” She looked down at the pear she had caught in her hands, and slowly brought her eyes back to this. She said nothing as he swung the cloak around her shoulders and buttoned it for her once more. Then he tucked her hair behind her ears before reaching over her shoulder and tugging up her hood.
“We will be leaving in a few minutes,” he said over his shoulder, walking back to Eirwen.
Scarlett stared after him, not even sure what she was feeling at the moment, when a voice from beside her made her start.
“If you do not want fruit, I can find you some bread or meat,” Callan said.
“No,” she said quickly. “I’m not all that hungry. Fruit is fine.”
“But you have hardly eaten,” Callan argued with a frown.
Scarlett inhaled deeply and was immediately caught off guard by the pine and rain scent that filled her senses rather than one of ash and cedar. She could do this, she told herself, exhaling. She could have a normal conversation with Callan. After all, he was the one who’d been told his life was in jeopardy. What had they told him to make him understand he needed to go into hiding?
Scarlett forced a small smile to her lips as she turned to face him. “I will be fine, Callan. How are you ? How are you handling everything?”
Callan’s eyes seemed to widen slightly at her actually speaking to him, but he quickly recovered. “I suppose going into hiding is better than being dead.”
“One would think so,” Scarlett agreed.
“Of course, when I learned they were planning to get you out and that I would be going with you, it made the choice far easier,” he continued.
Scarlett swallowed, and her fingers dug slightly into the pear she still held with both hands. “I… I’m glad you believed everyone. That Mikale would hurt you,” she managed to get out.
Callan’s hand came up to her shoulder and stroked gently down her arm to her elbow where it stayed. Scarlett forced herself not to flinch back, and her shadows followed her actions. They hovered at her shoulders, seeming to tremble with the effort of not slithering down to the prince’s hand. “I never once believed you would willingly become Mikale’s wife. I would have done and believed almost anything if it meant getting you away from him and back to me.”
His other hand had come up and gently cradled her other elbow. Scarlett’s fingers were deep into the flesh of the pear now. The juice was running down her fingers, sticky and wet.
Like blood when a dagger had been shoved into a heart. So much like blood.
“Ride with me for a while, Scarlett,” he said softly. “Please. I need to know you are okay, and I need…”
Unable to help it any longer, Scarlett stepped from his touch, and Callan’s hands fell to his sides. “Nothing about this changes anything, Callan,” she said softly. “You are still to be a king, and I still do not desire to be a queen.”
“I am already leaving Windonelle. Maybe I will just not return. I can stay with you—”
“No, Callan.” Scarlett shook her head. Chunks of the pear dropped to the ground as her hands squeezed the fruit tighter. Her shadows finally broke through their own restraints, winding down around her arms, and Callan took a step back.
“Why?” he demanded, trying to keep his voice low. “Why is he allowed to speak with you? Why is he allowed to touch you? Comfort you? Why do your shadows let him in?”
“My darkness lets him in because he does not fear it,” she hissed. “My darkness lets him in because he fights the shadows to get to me. He gets to talk to me and touch me and comfort me because he knows how to reach me when the past is so loud all I can do is scream.”
“Scarlett.” The way Callan said her name was with a gentle sadness. “I want to understand your darkness. I want to not fear it. It is just so different from the person I know—”
“Because you do not know all of me. You never have. You only know the masks I put on to get close to you. You only know the parts of me I wanted you to see,” she answered.
“Then ride with me for a while. Talk to me. Let me get to know all of you.”
“She is not riding with you.”
Sorin’s voice was tight as he came up beside her. She glanced at him quickly and saw a muscle feather in his jaw.
“She will be fine if we are flanked by Finn and Sloan on either side. One hour of riding with me will not hurt anything,” Callan countered, his hands fisting at his sides.
“No. It is not an option. Her safety is my highest priority, which means she rides with me,” Sorin retorted.
“If approaching the border is so dangerous, does that mean your Court is just as dangerous? Will she even be safe there?” Callan challenged.
“She will be more than safe there. If anyone touches her once we cross the border, there will be severe consequences for such a decision.” Sorin’s voice had dropped dangerously low.
“You are allowed to determine such punishments?” Callan’s face was hard as he refused to back down to Sorin. Finn and Sloan had come up beside him, flanking him.
Scarlett could feel chunks of pear flesh and seeds under her nails as the fruit collapsed further under her grip.
“Maybe you two bastards should share a horse, and Scarlett can have one all to herself for a while,” Eliza said as she approached them. “You two could work out whatever trust issues you seem to have.”
The woman crossed her arms, her red-gold braided plait sweeping over her shoulder. Sorin turned incredulous eyes to her. “You know that is not an option. The border will be chaos, even if our backup arrives in time.”
“Well, General, unless you plan to share with the group why you’re being such a territorial protective prick, I suggest you stop measuring your dick with everyone else and get your ass on a horse. We need to get going,” Eliza shot back. Flames flickered in her eyes, just as Scarlett had seen them do in Sorin’s a few times, and Scarlett realized the woman still had her mother’s ring on her finger.
With his eyes still fixed on Eliza’s, Sorin said coolly, “You may ride with me or Eliza, Scarlett. The choice is yours, but I will insist you ride with someone who is Fae.”
“I will ride with you,” Scarlett answered quietly. She met Callan’s eyes as she stepped closer to Sorin. “There are things you don’t know, Callan. I need to ride with him. I want Finn and Sloan focused on protecting you. I don’t want their attention anywhere else.”
She felt Sorin’s hand on the small of her back as he gently steered her towards Eirwen. He looked over his shoulder back to Eliza and called, “You guys can get going. We will be right behind you.”
“Absolutely not,” Callan began to argue.
“Cal, let’s go,” Sloan said gruffly, stepping in front of him and herding him towards their waiting horses.
“It’s fine, Callan. Please go with Eliza,” Scarlett said, she and Sorin coming to stop by Eirwen. Sorin took the mangled pear from her hands and chucked it into the woods.
As the others mounted their horses, Sorin unhooked a waterskin from the saddle and proceeded to dump water on to her hands, washing the sticky residue of the pear from them. He was wiping them clean and drying them with his cloak when the others rode past them.
Scarlett couldn’t bring herself to meet Callan’s stare, but she felt his eyes on her like a brand.
When they were out of sight and earshot, Sorin spoke. His voice was tense and rough. “Are you all right?”
“Why wouldn’t I be all right?”
“Because you reduced a piece of fruit to pulp with your bare hands,” he answered, turning to reattach the waterskin to the saddle.
“Maybe I was imagining the pear was your head,” she retorted.
Sorin paused for a moment before his long fingers moved to double check all the clasps and ties of the saddle. “Because you hate me?”
“Yes, because I hate you,” Scarlett snapped back. “Although it was a shame to waste a pear. I actually really love those.”
“I know. I have more in the saddlebags for you.”
Scarlett snapped her mouth shut at that reply. She really wished he’d stop saying things like that.
Sorin turned then, and he had a dagger sheath in his hands. He handed it to her along with a shirastone dagger. “Here. You need to be armed today.”
He waited while she wordlessly strapped the sheath to her thigh and slid the dagger into it, then he stepped to the side and motioned for her to mount Eirwen. She reached for the saddle horn, feeling her wound stretch as she did. Sorin’s hands came to her hips to help her up as he had done all day yesterday, but he held her still for a moment. He stepped slightly into her, and she could feel his chest on her back.
“You owe him no explanations, Love,” he said quietly into her ear. “You never need to explain yourself, and as I have said before, you never need to explain or apologize for wanting someone to stop touching you. No one should be touching you without your permission.”
“You touch me all the time without asking,” Scarlett retorted, her fingers tightening on the saddle horn.
She felt him still behind her. He tilted his head slightly and when he spoke this time, she could tell his mouth was a breath from her ear. If he moved at all, his lips would brush her skin. “My apologies, Lady.” She could hear the smile in his voice as she stiffened at the title. “I will no longer touch you without your invitation unless it is an absolute necessity.”
Scarlett swallowed. “Well, that’s a relief.”
He chuckled under his breath. “Am I allowed to help you onto Eirwen, or would you like to risk aggravating your wound by doing so yourself?”
“Oh my gods,” she mumbled.
“Well, what would you like?”
She knew if she turned to look at him, his lips would be quirked up in amusement.
“I would like to change my mind and ride with Eliza,” Scarlett gritted out.
“Liar,” he purred. “May I please help you on to Eirwen?”
Scarlett sighed loudly. “Yes.”
She lifted her foot to the stirrup and felt him hoist her up, lessening the strain on her side as she swung her leg over the saddle and settled in. He was behind her a moment later, but his arm did not curl around her hips as it had all day yesterday. She glanced over and found it settled on his own thigh, while his other hand held the reins in front of her.
“Ready?” he asked.
Scarlett only nodded.
As Eirwen started forward, Sorin dipped his head slightly, but still did not touch her. “But just so we are clear, Love, I fully expect you to be asking me to touch you before we cross the border.”
“Don’t hold your breath,” she muttered.
Sorin chuckled, urging Eirwen faster to catch up to the others. And while she would never admit it, Scarlett missed his steadying arm around her as the horse ran.
They caught up with the others quickly enough, and Sorin moved past Callan, Finn, and Sloan without a word. When they came up beside Eliza, she glanced over at them. “Anything exciting happen I need to be aware of?”
Sorin sighed dramatically. “No. Scarlett here just informed me I am not allowed to touch her unless she asks me to.”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Scarlett moaned. She heard Finn and Sloan snicker behind them.
“Language, Lady,” Sorin chided mockingly.
“I swear to Saylah, if you call me Lady one more time, I am going to touch you right off this horse.”
“I am not sure I consider that a threat,” he purred low into her ear.
“Saylah?” Eliza cut in. “The goddess of shadows and night? She is not usually spoken of.”
Scarlett wasn’t sure what to say to that, but Sorin spoke before the silence became too awkward. “She bears the goddesses’ amulet, Eliza. Surely you have noticed.”
“I have. It is still surprising though.”
“She is certainly full of those.” Scarlett felt him fiddling with something, and a moment later, he reached around her and offered her another pear. “I can hear your stomach growling, Love. Please eat.”
There was no teasing in his tone at the words. None of the sarcastic arrogance.
With one hand still on the saddle horn, she took the pear from him and bit into it. The juice was sweet and lush, and at that first bite, she realized how ravenous she was. She practically inhaled the pear, and Sorin was offering her another as she finished off the first.
“Has Amaré returned yet?” Eliza asked as they rode along, and Scarlett ate her second pear at a much slower pace.
“No, but I trust he will accomplish the task I sent him on,” Sorin answered.
“If Cyrus and Rayner are not at the border, Sorin—”
“They will be,” Sorin cut it.
“You both seem very concerned about the border,” Scarlett observed.
“There are Night Children loyal to the mortal kings at the borders,” Sorin answered. “It is why we supplied Callan and his men with extra black ashwood arrows, and why you now have a shirastone dagger at your side. They can kill Night Children just as they can kill Fae. I am going to assume that they will try to retrieve you for the Lord and Mikale.”
Scarlett twisted around at the words and nearly lost her balance on the horse. Sorin’s arm was instantly around her, pulling her back into him as she dropped the pear and both hands clamped onto the saddle horn.
“This was considered a necessary touch,” he whispered into her ear. When she didn’t say anything, he went on. “Are you steady?”
She nodded her head, and his hand squeezed her hip gently before his arm slid away from her, returning to his own thigh.
“When you told me of the time you lost that powerful female, when you were attacked by a small clan of vampyres, you told me that some Night Children were allowed to stay in the kingdoms while others were forced into their secluded territory,” Scarlett said, readjusting herself in the saddle once more.
Eliza’s head whipped to Sorin at her words, but she couldn’t see Sorin’s face as he said, “I did.”
“Why? Why would they be allowed to stay? Do they not feed on humans?”
“They do, but they are also natural enemies of the Fae,” Sorin answered. “Fae blood to the Night Children would be like… opium to an addict, I suppose. The Night Children are descended from the Avonleyans. When the Great War broke out, many sided with Deimas and Esmeary because the Avonelayns would not allow them to feed from the Fae. They forbid it. By fighting with Esmeray, they were basically allowed to feast.”
“But you let Nuri feed from you?” Scarlett pointed out.
“Yes, I did,” Sorin replied, reaching around her with a piece of bread. Scarlett took it from him without thinking as he continued. “If a Fae is fed upon and not drained and killed by a Night Child, they actually become a bigger threat to the Night Child. The Fae becomes immune to that vampyre’s entrancing, and the vampyre cannot harm that Fae until his blood has left the vampyre’s system which takes days.”
Scarlett mulled that over while she chewed on a bite of bread. “If they are descendants of the Avonleyans, how did they get here? The Avonleyans have been locked in their land since the end of the war. Before that even, if the history books are true.”
“That depends on which history books you are reading,” Eliza cut in from beside them.
“History is history, is it not? You can’t change facts,” Scarlett argued.
“I feel as though we have already had this discussion,” Sorin said. “The winners write their version of history and that is what is handed down generation after generation. If your mortal kings wanted some parts of the truth forgotten, they could simply not put that information in the history books.”
“How were they created, then? The Avonleyans didn’t feed on Fae. How did the Night Children come to do so?”
“The Avonleyans did feed on the Fae,” Sorin answered, placing a piece of cheese in her hands.
“What? The Fae fought with the Avonleyans. That’s why King Deimas and Queen Esmeray—”
“I know why Deimas and Esmeray did what they did to the Fae,” Sorin cut her off quietly. “The Avonleyans blessed the Fae with their magic, but there is always a cost, Scarlett. I have told you this.”
“The cost of the magic is that they had to be food for the Avonleyans?” Scarlett asked doubtfully.
“In a way, yes. It is not feeding like you eat food for physical sustenance. That is how Night Children feed on mortals and Fae. Avonleyans need Fae for magical sustenance. They feed on their magic for healing and strengthening their own powers,” Sorin answered.
“I thought the Avonleyans were super powerful all by themselves. That’s why they thought they could take over the mortal lands.”
“They are incredibly powerful, but by keeping the Avonleyans sequestered to their continent, Deimas and Esmeray essentially cut them off from the Fae. They have been separated from us for centuries, and thus they have weakened them. They would still be strong. They still have magic, but one would guess it would be a fraction of what they could be,” Sorin explained, handing her another piece of cheese.
“How did King Deimas and Queen Esmeray defeat them then? How would they have been powerful enough to do so?” Scarlett asked, as she nibbled on the cheese.
“No one entirely knows. We do not know where Deimas’ power came from. We do know that Esmeary was Fae though.”
Scarlett snorted. “Queen Esmeray was not Fae. They hated the Fae. They protected us from the Fae by giving up their life forces to enact spells and wards.”
Sorin’s head dipped as he said quietly, “You seem to keep forgetting that you are not mortal.”
Scarlett dug her nails into the leather of the saddle horn at the breath that caressed the shell of her ear. She heard Sorin huff a soft laugh as he straightened once more.
“Anyway, Queen Esmeray was indeed Fae. She was actually a sister of the Fae Queens. There were three, not two. Some say she was disgruntled that her territory had so many mortals, so she incited a war against her sisters and Avonleya under the guise of them wanting to enslave the humans. Others say Deimas planted those seeds when they had wed and were ruling together. Maybe neither of those is true and something else entirely sparked the Great War, but what I do know is that the Fae never endeavored to enslave the mortals,” Sorin said.
“How can you be so sure?” Scarlett asked, biting into the third pear Sorin had placed in her hand.
Sorin was quiet for so long, Scarlett twisted to look at him, and instantly regretted it. Pain lanced up her side as her wound stretched with the movement. It was healing, but so stiff and sore from the night’s sleep. She hissed and lost her grip on the pear as she brought her hand to her side. With startling fast reflexes, Sorin caught the pear.
“We need to stop,” he said to Eliza. “We need to put more ointment on her wound. Then we should be fine until we cross the border.”
“I’m fine, Sorin. I just moved wrong,” Scarlett cut in.
“No. We can take five minutes to stretch our legs and then make the final leg of the trip.” There was no arguing with Sorin’s tone, so Scarlett didn’t even try.
A few minutes later, they came upon a small stream for the horses to drink. Sorin had just helped her ease down when Callan came striding up.
“We should have lunch while we are stopped,” he said, his eyes lingering on Scarlett while she pet Eirwen’s neck.
“No,” Sorin answered while he fished the ointment from the saddle bag. “There is not time. Water your horses and see to your needs. We are going to be on our way again in less than five minutes.”
“We need to eat, General. She needs to eat,” Callan argued.
“Scarlett has been eating all morning,” Sorin answered, coming towards her.
Scarlett’s brows shot up. She had been eating all morning. The entire time Sorin and Eliza had told her of the Night Children, she had eaten. Sorin had been placing food in her hands, and she had eaten it without thinking, too intrigued by their conversation.
Her eyes shot to Sorin’s, and she found his golden ones lit by soft amusement. “Am I allowed to touch you to put this on?” he asked, a half-smile on his lips.
Scarlett lifted her tunic, unable to take her eyes from his. “You distracted me so I would eat?”
Taking her exposure of the wound as permission to touch her, he began removing the dressing, breaking their stare. “Your stomach was growling so loud I knew you were starving, Princess,” he answered. “Plus, you ate that first pear like you would never eat again, so…”
“I did not,” she snapped. But she had. She totally had.
“You have truly been eating?” Callan asked doubtfully.
Scarlett had forgotten he was there. “Yes, Callan. I have eaten pears and bread and cheese all morning,” she answered.
“Come, Prince,” Eliza said, walking by with her mare. “Grab Eirwen and bring him for some water.”
Scarlett watched as Callan reluctantly grabbed Eirwen’s lead. “Thank you, Callan,” she said quietly. Callan only nodded curtly at her, and she watched him follow after Eliza. When he was out of earshot, she said to Sorin, who was now crouched before her again dabbing ointment around the wound, “Eliza always seems to show up when Callan comes around.”
“Does she now?” Sorin asked. She could see the hint of a small smile tug up on his lips.
“Yes, she does. Why?”
“She knows that I can be…temperamental,” he said, setting the jar on the ground and picking up the fresh bandage he had balanced on his leg.
Scarlett arched a brow at the response. “She is your buffer?”
“Between me and the prince? Yes,” he answered, affixing the new dressing.
“Only the prince?”
“I suppose she would step in if needed with the guards, but Finn and Sloan seem to wisely keep their distance and try to keep their prince in line,” Sorin answered, standing.
“And me?” Scarlett asked.
“What about you, Love?”
She got a little lost in those golden eyes as they settled on her once more. “Is she a buffer between us as well?”
The tiny grin played on his lips once more. “No, Love. She would likely prefer to interfere with you and me, but she will not.”
“Why?”
“Because she knows how temperamental I can be,” he answered, bending down and grabbing the jar of ointment. “We are leaving shortly. Go walk around a bit, but maybe put your shirt down first.”
Sorin turned and headed in the direction of Eliza, presumably to put the ointment back in the saddlebag. Scarlett slowly lowered her tunic. She walked in the opposite direction along the stream and followed it around a little bend. She could faintly hear the others, and she sighed heavily, bringing her hand to her side. She would never tell Sorin how much the wound actually ached and bothered her. Not having his arm supporting her on Eirwen had put extra strain on it, and she really hoped he wasn’t overselling the Healers in the Fire Court.
There was a soft rustling behind her, and she whirled around to find nothing but trees and bushes. She scanned them, suddenly glad Sorin had given her a dagger this morning. Gods, she had retreated so far into herself since Mikale had come for her. She could hardly remember who she was anymore. The handle of the dagger felt foreign and familiar all at once. She glanced back to the way the others were and, seeing no one, she slowly lifted her hand.
The shadows swirled and wove in and out of her fingers as if dancing among them. They slid and wrapped along her forearm, twisting around the three stars that were inked on her flesh. The words of Mikale in the cellar came back to her.
She bears their Mark , he had yelled to Lord Tyndell.
She traced the stars with her finger, mulling over his words. Could he have meant the beautiful man she often saw in her dreams? The one who had given her the Mark? Who had called her Lady of Darkness?
That was impossible. How could Mikale possibly know any of that? No one else had made any comment about the Mark. If Sorin had seen it, he had never said anything.
The snapping of twigs and crunching of leaves had her hand flying to her dagger once more as Sorin emerged from around the bend. He stopped short when he saw her, and she couldn’t read the emotion on his face.
Probably because there was no emotion to read. He had a mask on like she had so often seen him wear when they had first started training.
“We need to get going,” he said roughly, watching her approach.
“Okay.” She closed the distance between them, but she stopped a foot in front of him, tilting her head up to look into his eyes. “Are you all right?”
“Why wouldn’t I be all right, Scarlett?”
“Well, for one you called me Scarlett,” she answered, biting her lip.
There was a slight twitch of his lips, but the smile didn’t form. “That is your name.”
“But that’s not what you call me,” Scarlett replied.
“You have told me several times in the last two days not to call you Lady or Love or Princess,” he countered.
“And you have repeatedly ignored such requests,” she pointed out. She waved her hand dismissively. “That’s not the point. The point is that something is off. You are…” She shrugged. “It just seems like something is wrong is all.”
Scarlett made the move past him, but he suddenly caught her arm. Her eyes snapped to the contact and then dragged to his golden ones. “I thought you weren’t touching me without my invitation,” she purred.
“Unless it was a necessity,” he said, his voice low and rough.
Her brows rose. “How was this a necessity?”
“Because if you continue to walk away, we would be on our way to crossing the border.”
“I’m missing the necessity part of this.”
“Everything will change when we near the border.” There was a twinge of agony in his voice, and Scarlett found herself stepping into him. “This is my last chance to have you all to myself for a good long while.”
“Still missing the necessity portion,” she whispered.
Sorin reached up and pushed her hood back while his hand slipped into her hair that was still unbound and a complete mess. His other hand came to her waist and pulled her against him. He held her eyes for a second longer, giving her time to stop him, before he slowly lowered his mouth to hers.
When his lips met hers, she shoved down all the reasons she shouldn’t be doing this. She shoved down thoughts of Callan, who would likely come looking for them at any time. She shoved down thoughts of Sorin’s betrayal, how he had withheld such vital information. She shoved down all the emotions she had been struggling to keep at bay for days, and she let need rush to the surface. She let want drive her hands into his dark locks, and she felt him shudder against her.
She moaned against his mouth when his tongue flicked against her own, and his teeth dragged across her bottom lip. Then he was kissing down her throat, and she arched into him while his hand fisted gently in her hair, tugging her head back to allow better access. Wet warmth pooled in her core, and she could swear Sorin sensed it because the hand moved from her waist and slipped up her tunic, finding her breast and her peaked nipple. He pinched it between his thumb and forefinger, and she gasped.
His other hand slipped from her hair and down her back. Then he was spinning her, and she somehow found herself backed against a tree. The hand that was on her back slid further down until he was cupping her rear, and his mouth had found its way back to hers. He kissed her like he expected never to do it again. It was rough and desperate and full of need.
His hips pressed into her own, and she shifted slightly to avoid having pressure put on the wound in her side. Shifting through had lined her up perfectly with him. She felt his hardness grind into her as his hips shifted again, and she moaned at what that did to her. His hand under her tunic was working her breast while his other hand had worked its way around to her front, and his fingers were grazing the band of her pants.
Scarlett leaned her head back into the tree as he trailed kisses down her jaw. “Do you understand yet, Love?” he murmured onto her skin. “ You are my necessity.”
She whimpered as she ground her own hips into his and his mouth was back on hers, devouring the sound. A dark growl escaped from him when she lifted one of her legs and hooked it around his hips. His hand came to her raised thigh, holding her in place as he pressed against her again, and his tongue dragged down her neck.
A few minutes later, when he started to slowly withdraw his hand from her tunic and his hand stilled on her hip, she groaned. Her breathing was as ragged as his. She could feel his chest rising and falling rapidly against her own.
“We need to go. In about an hour, we will reach the outskirts of the border. We should be with the others when we reach it,” he whispered, his hands coming to her face. His forehead pressed against hers as he held her gaze.
She swallowed. “That seems like it would be a necessity.”
A half-smile appeared. “That it is, Love.”
“I still hate you,” she whispered.
He brushed a kiss to her lips. “I know.”