31. Chapter Thirty-One
Something has shifted between us, but I can’t name it yet. Tonight was about showing a sliver of vulnerability in exchange for his — instead, we murdered someone today.
And what was that, with the ponytail pulling?
Good goddesses, that was fucking hot. The second he tugged, my thighs wanted to offer a free use open invitation.
I’m so confused right now. This push and pull between us is maddening.
It might be easier if we just fuck it out, but I’m not sure that’s the best solution.
After Fynn’s warning, I knew baiting Trinte like this meant I was committing to more than sex. It’s still to be determined what that “more” entails, but as much as I’d like to, at minimum, kiss him … whatever this is between us deserves more than that.
Which is equal parts terrifying and … actually, no, it’s all terrifying. I don’t do relationships. After what my mother put us through, I have no desire to risk the possibility of the same. It’s not just about the battle gym — it’s about looking like a fool.
But the more I get to truly know Trinte, I get the sense that he feels the same way. Can two people afraid of being made fools find a path together?
I’m not sure what’s going through his head, but as Trinte lets me hitch a ride home, he’s quiet. At this time of night, Gondora is mostly empty. Most of the sound comes from the wind under Trinte’s wings and the steady beating of his heart.
An arm wrapped around a horn, I trail a finger around one of the larger scales on his head. It’s warm and buttery to the touch. If only I’d paid more attention to the feel of it in my hands when I’d had the chance.
There are a lot of things I’d do differently. Unfortunately, the sole thing possible at this point is figuring out how to move forward.
What are you thinking?
Trinte’s warm, velvet voice jerks me out of my thoughts.
“Nothing,” I say hurriedly.
He snorts. You appeared to be quite lost in your thoughts.
Sighing, I lay my hand flat on his hide. “Okay, you caught me. I was thinking about how things might’ve been if we had made different choices.”
I’m not sure it’s wise to have this discussion.
“You asked,” I shoot back.
He’s quiet for a moment. You’re right. My apologies. Continue.
“Thank you,” I say primly. Trailing a finger around one of his thicker spikes, I admit, “What I was actually thinking was that it’s too late to change what’s happened, so it’s a matter of figuring out how to move forward.”
Did you discover any possibilities?
“No.” I nibble on my lip, afraid of ruining this delicate truce we’ve developed.
If it makes you feel any better, I’ve thought about it, too.
“Did you come up with anything?”
Hole up in a bedroom for six days, endless bottles of water, room service, and no cell service.
I bark out a laugh. “That’s certainly one solution.”
There’s a stretch of silence before he admits, I’ve thought about quitting the gym.
This statement makes my heart jump into my throat. “You have?”
Mmhmm. I’ve considered what would’ve happened if we hadn’t spoken about it that evening. Maybe even gone on a few dates until we found out.
“That would’ve possibly been worse.”
Would it? So if everything was wonderful aside from us both enjoying the gym, you’d still insist on breaking up after finding out?
“Well, now you make my rule sound silly.”
I’m doing no such thing. It’s a legitimate question. This rule is important enough to you that we’re … well, we’re whatevering right now. The rule itself has led to this exact moment in time. So I think it’s a fair question to ask.
“It’s not just about the rule, though.” I look away from his observing eye.
Are you not going to answer the question?
“I am,” I snipe, finally irritated by this conversation. His prodding makes me feel ridiculous. I know it’s not his intention, but when it’s put into simple terms, it sounds like I’m the one who threw away the potential because of a rule.
But I am the one who threw it away, aren’t I?
It’s easy to say how I’d react in a certain situation without experiencing it, but my choice was based on all the information I’d had at the time.
It’s not like Trinte appeared with a sign that said, “I am loyal, honest, funny, protective, and excellent in bed.”
If he had, would it have influenced my decision?
Undoubtedly. I negotiated with an attractive stranger who pulls hair perfectly and kisses like each one is his last. I wasn’t actually negotiating with the real Trinte Gleanscale. Knowing what I know would’ve made a difference.
“No. I wouldn’t have insisted on it.” Trinte’s been silent for so long, I start to think I’ve pissed him off. After a minute without speaking, his body temperature rises to an alarming degree. I frown. “Did I upset you?”
His voice is strained when he says, I’m … feeling a lot right now. But I’m not upset with you.
“I’m sorry if—”
This is your apartment complex, yes? He descends, landing on my complex’s landing platform.
I jump, landing lightly on my feet. “Trinte, if what I said was upsetting, I’m sorry.”
It’s your truth. That’s all that matters. As we’ve reminded one another, there’s nothing we can do to change the past.
Stepping closer, I press a palm to his snout. Trinte’s head jerks, like he wants to pull away, but stops himself. That’s progress, right? Running my hand along the broad expanse between his eyes, I say softly, “We can’t change the past, but maybe we can figure out a different way forward?”
Now Trinte moves his head out of reach. It’s gentle, but symbolic enough. You still have four questions. Tell me how you feel about things then. Goodnight, Firefly.
“Goodnight,” I whisper as he turns and leaps off the edge of the cliff.
***
The next morning, I wake up in my closet, staring at the awning of jackets. It took me ages to fall asleep, wired until near sunrise.
Should I feel bad about murdering Huracio? Maybe. I don’t, though.
I really, really don’t.
My mom met him when I was fifteen. While it took him about six weeks of pacing outside my bedroom door to actually start doing something, when he finally did, it became a nightly occurrence. Sometimes, I’d wake up already naked with him on top of me.
Talia asked me once where my mother was.
She was right next door, doing nothing.
While I can’t prove she knew anything about what was going on, whenever I tried to tell her, she would shut me down with insults or flat out walk away. There’s no reason to believe she didn’t sanction it.
Huracio wasn’t the first of Mom’s boyfriends to do that.
Mom had a tendency to pick awful men who probably did the same things to her.
My childhood was a revolving door of alcoholics, addicts, and abusers.
Huracio was the longest-lasting, taking away three years of my life and so much longer than that.
To be honest, he deserved worse. Some of the scars on my body prove he deserved so much worse.
One of my greatest shames is not fighting back sooner. Which is why I teach women to gain the confidence to defend themselves.
No one deserves to be me.
Sitting up with a yawn, I kick off my sheets and walk past my empty bedframe, heading into the kitchen to make some coffee and grab a croissant. While it brews, I check my phone and take a bite of my breakfast. There’s one from Orliana and two from Trinte.
Orliana: We are going to tonight’s fight, right?
Kyrielle: Yeah, you and Fynn are absolutely welcome. I’ll set aside some tickets for you.
I check Trinte’s with a racing pulse. After last night, he could pull away entirely. We literally committed murder after feeding the homeless. That’s not normal.
It’s also an excellent villain arc, though, if you ask me.
Trinte: Are you okay if I go to the battle tonight? Fynn and Orliana invited me, but I wanted your consent ahead of time.
Baby Pegasi flitter around in my belly. He wants to see me in a battle?
You just battled him directly, you ninny.
As far as I know, he’s never watched me in a fight, though. A small voice in my mind points out this is veering into line-crossing territory, but I can’t find myself to care.
Kyrielle: I’m good. You? And yes, that’s fine.
Trinte: I’m completely fine. Okay, see you tonight.
***
The Speed Dating Event
“What if we don’t have any chemistry?” Kyrielle asks, taking a sip of her beer.
I give the thigh between my legs, her thigh, a pointed look. “Well, first off, I don’t usually have the legs of a beautiful woman I don’t like between mine.” When she tries to shift it away, I lock it between my knees, grinning. “Ah, ah, I was only trying to make a point.”
“Legs touching hardly implies chemistry,” she protests through a smile.
Offering my best panty-dropping grin, I say, “There is a way we can test it.”
Kyrielle’s eyebrows jump in interest. “Oh yes? Do tell.”
I crook a finger for her to lean forward.
When she does, I quietly inhale her warm scent.
She looks and smells like the finest dessert.
Maintaining eye contact, I slide a hand past her jaw to the back of her head.
Weaving fingers into her silky soft hair, I give it the tiniest tug.
Her eyes flare; a sharp inhale parts her lips.
Bringing my mouth to hover above hers, I whisper, “How does this make you feel?”
Her breath is warm against my mouth, picking up its pace as the seconds pass. I watch every micro-expression as I apply a little more pressure. Her chin tilts up, that plump mouth widening further.
“How does this make you feel?” I purr again, ignoring the fact that dozens of people are around us. Some are probably watching.
“G-good,” she rasps out.
Kyrielle pulls against my hold on her hair, like she’s trying to bring our mouths together. “Tsk, tsk.” I raise my mouth a millimeter out of reach. “We’re testing a theory here; not actually kissing.”
She whimpers. “What is the theory?”
Tilting her head to the side, I bring my mouth to her ear. Against the soft skin, I whisper, “That without even kissing you, our chemistry is so good, you’re fucking dripping between those delicious thighs right now.”
Trinte’s not wrong; it’s an absolute waterfall between my thighs right now. Heart hammering against its mortal cage, all I can do is offer my mouth as an altar for worship.
Licking my bottom lip, drawing his attention further, I rasp out, “It makes me feel like I need things in my mouth.”
A low, rumbling growl vibrates his thick throat. “Oh, I think that can be arranged, pretty girl.”
Trinte’s lips are a hairbreadth away from mine. Before he can react, my tongue flicks out to lick his top lip. He sucks air through his teeth, then lets out a low chuckle.
“I’m fairly certain,” he murmurs against my mouth. “That only those with chemistry enjoy playing these games.”