Chapter 15
Fifteen
Ivy
Alek sets his fingers against the edge of his mask as if he’s looping a noose around his neck. I brace myself against the urge to leap in and stop him—not for my sake, but because he looks so conflicted.
Maybe taking this step will be better for him. But I don’t know exactly what he’s about to reveal.
He undoes a snap that attaches the mask’s strap around his head and eases the molded leather away from his face. His head starts to droop so his dark hair falls forward, as if he wants to hide himself as much as he can still, but he catches himself and lifts his chin.
When he lowers the mask, he turns his face so the most damaged side is angled toward me. So the full impact of the chemical burn is obvious.
Across his forehead and nose other than a strip over his eyes where he shielded them, down his right cheek to the edge of his jaw, streaks of mottled scars discolor his bronze-brown skin. Ruddy patches mingle with darker brown ridges, crossed through here and there by marks of deep gray.
In that first glimpse, my heart lurches, but only in shock. I hadn’t pictured the damage looking quite like this.
But as I steady myself, gazing at him, it doesn’t take long for my mind to adjust. There’s nothing gory or frightening about the face before me. It’s simply… different.
The swathes of different hues make me think of the impressionistic paintings I’ve seen—portraits and landscapes conveyed in broad strokes of paint that don’t appear realistic up close but merge together into a cohesive image when you take in the bigger picture.
It’s a style favored more by poorer artists who can’t always take the time to match every tiny detail for pure realism, but I’ve always appreciated the vision that goes into them.
Alek shifts his gaze to meet mine, his bright eyes part of that varied canvas now rather than standing out starkly amid an even plane, but no less penetrating for it. His stance is so taut I’m almost afraid to speak.
He needs to see that I’m not afraid of him.
I slip off the table and raise my hand. “Does it still hurt?”
“No,” Alek says quietly, with a hint of a rasp. “Not since the first few weeks.”
I rest my fingertips gingerly against the right side of his face. Alek somehow tenses even more, but he doesn’t pull away.
Ever so cautiously, I trace the erratic, overlapping streaks of color. The ridged lines are only slightly raised, the texture rough to my touch but not unpleasantly so. Even in the smooth areas between them, the scarred flesh feels thicker, denser, like scales more than skin.
But still just as warm as the other parts of his body I was pressed up against minutes ago.
“You know,” I say lightly, “I think I like it. It’s as if an artist decided to experiment with his techniques on your face. You’re art. There aren’t many people who can say that.”
Alek sputters a laugh. “You don’t have to pretend it isn’t bad. I have a mirror. I know how it looks.”
“You know how it looks to you. With the weight of all your regrets, with the knowledge of how all the haughty assholes around here would talk about it.” The corner of my mouth quirks slightly upward. “You know, the same assholes who’d assume I must be a monster because of the crack in my soul.”
“It isn’t the same. You—”
“You,” I interrupt, resting my palm flat against his mottled cheek, “are a pretty incredible person too. You don’t have to let your past mistakes and the judgment of idiots define you.
If a riven sorcerer can make a go of being a hero, then gods be sure you can decide what you’re going to be now. I don’t see how anyone can stop you.”
Alek grimaces. “I don’t think simply deciding is going to absolve me of my crimes.”
“What about everything you’ve done since then?
” My mind trips back over all my memories of our times together, my heart squeezing.
“I don’t think I’ve ever thanked you for how much you’ve been here for me.
You tried to get me help when you could tell I was hurting, even though I was pushing you away so you wouldn’t realize why.
You listened to me. You kept an open mind in spite of the awful circumstances that brought me into your life.
Even when you weren’t sure you could trust me, you answered all my questions, you brought me all the information I asked for and more. ”
At the thought of all the reasons he’s had to distrust me, my gaze drifts away, but Alek tugs it back with the grasp of my other hand in his.
“I never thought you were a bad person, Ivy. Maybe I didn’t know what to make of you at every moment, but I could tell you were doing the best you could with this mess. ”
A small but ever so real smile crosses my lips. “I’m glad I’ve had you and your brilliant scholarly mind on my side.”
Still cupping his scarred check, I guide him to me so I can claim another kiss.
My mouth brushes Alek’s tentatively, and his breath stutters hot over my lips. But then he presses closer and kisses me back.
It’s not the hasty rush of our first coming together. More a careful feeling each other out, meeting halfway, testing just how far we can take this tenderness.
I run my fingers up into his thick hair, reveling in the texture that’s a mix of soft and coarse. Alek lets out a rough sound of approval.
His arm slides around me, his hand on the small of my back beneath the worst of my own scars, but I can still feel tension in his stance. A trace of hesitation, as if he’s nervous about giving himself over to the moment completely.
I ease back just an inch, teasing my thumb along his jaw. “You know, I thought you were breathtakingly handsome from the very first time we met.”
Alek lets out a light guffaw. He tips his head so his nose grazes mine. “Did you?”
“Oh, yes.” I tap those full lips that caught my attention even while he was interrogating me on our second meeting. “And now I know you’re also clever and caring and brave… and just as stubborn as me.”
He brings both of his hands to my face, framing it between them.
“I can’t keep my eyes off you when you’re nearby.
You glow, in so much color, like the sun shining through one of the stained-glass windows in the temple out there.
And yes, you’re stubborn, but about things that matter—and if we’re talking cleverness, who manages to teach themselves Woudish—and the dedication you’ve shown to this mission that wasn’t even yours… ”
Alek pauses. For a second, I think he’s going to kiss me again, which I’d fully approve of. But his voice dips lower.
“I’m not the only one who’s noticed how fantastic you are. You and Casimir—I’m sorry I went off on you when I saw you two together—”
I grasp the front of his shirt with a firm tug to emphasize my point. “You’ve already apologized. I understand.”
“I shouldn’t have taken my jealousy out on you.”
I draw back far enough that I can meet his eyes directly again.
“You don’t need to be jealous. Casimir made it clear from the start that what happened between us was only casual for him.
He’s been sweet to me, but that’s how he is with everyone.
I don’t know if he even can see ‘companionship’ as something exclusive. ”
Alek studies me with his incisive gaze that picks up on so much. “But you would have wanted him to.”
My throat constricts. I’ve had enough of lying to this man.
“I have… feelings for Casimir that I’m still sorting out,” I say. “But that doesn’t mean that I want you any less. It simply means that I’ve had a lot of feelings since coming here that don’t seem to know how to make up their minds.”
“And if Casimir showed that he was interested in something more committed…?”
I can tell the scholar is trying to sound detached about the subject, but his voice has gone a bit raw all the same.
I turn my head to press a kiss to his palm before I lock eyes with him again.
“I wouldn’t use you to pass the time while waiting to see if he comes around.
I… I don’t think that would be good for either of us, would it?
If we’re doing this, I’m choosing you. For however long it lasts, however it all plays out.
And I’ll be nothing but happy with that choice.
I’ll feel like the luckiest woman alive that I got to make it. ”
My voice drops to a whisper with that last sentence as it hits me just how true it is. A few weeks ago, I could barely imagine risking another no-strings-attached roll-about, let alone having an actual partner who wanted to stick around. Who I could trust with everything I am.
Alek gives a strained laugh, but his face has lit up. He leans closer again to speak in a murmur. “And what exactly are we doing here?”
Elation sweeps through me at the promise in his question. At the sense that we’re teetering on the edge of crossing a line we’ll never come back from… but that I wouldn’t want to back away from anyway.
A wider smile curves my lips. “Well, I’m about to go on a deadly mission with an uncertain outcome. And—”
The ding of the palace bell, somewhere overhead, interrupts. Nine resonant peals.
I raise my eyebrows at Alek. “And we still have an hour before Stavros gets peeved. That’s plenty of time. Why shouldn’t we make the most of it?”
Alek beams back at me. “I think that’s the most brilliant idea I’ve ever heard.”
Then he’s kissing me again, and it really is nothing short of brilliant.
Our mouths collide over and over, my desire flaring hotter until I have to gasp for breath. Alek takes advantage of the moment to grasp me by my hips and lift me back onto the edge of the table so I no longer have to stand on my toes to reach his lips.
I’m not sure what thrills me more—the strength I always forget he’s hiding in those slim arms or the greater access he’s given both of us.