Chapter 41 #2
I snort, and his lips curve. I can’t ignore how my stomach flutters at the sight of him.
“You said you don’t know me, which is a fair point. The two of us can talk over dinner and get to know each other better.”
“Because that’s what Latches should do,” I say.
“No. Because you kissed me.”
My knees jump, unable to hold still. “Because I thought you were dying,” I retort, digging down on my earlier answer instead of falling into my wavering blush.
His eyes sparkle, but he shakes his head. “That’s not how you kiss a dying man, Estinya. That’s how you kiss the man you want to fuck.”
My eyes widen, breath catching at the crude word that swells in my mind. Heat splits down my spine and branches off through every vein. He hasn’t moved an inch, and yet, it feels like I’m surrounded.
“Don’t say that!” I sputter.
“Then stop lying,” he counters, his voice soft enough to stroke.
To tempt.
“Admit what that kiss really was. Admit that you wanted it as much as I did.”
“Fine,” I blurt, the confession dizzying. “I admit it. Is that what you want?”
A cocky grin breaks out, making him look like seduction incarnate. “Oh, blight. You’re not ready to know what I want.”
Fire scrapes into my cheeks, making my whole face flush. The look in his eye, the undeniable desire I see there, quickens the pace of my pulse. His gaze drops to my twisting fingers, and I quickly bury them beneath my thighs, my fingertips pressing hard into the sofa.
I take a sobering breath. If I don’t change the subject, I might combust.
“Despite . . . that,” I choke out. “Your magic latching on to me . . . that’s a big thing too, Piper. It will impact my entire life.”
I’m going to have to figure out how to deal with all of this. To figure out what this means for me moving forward.
His expression sobers. “I know.”
I drag my hands up, splitting the thick fringe on my forehead. “It’s a lot to take in. A lot to take on.”
“I know that too.” He pauses. “Can I ask you something?”
“Yes.”
“Why did you run? You had the truth about why we’re collecting fiends, and you knew my magic had just latched to you,” he points out. “So why run when you knew you weren’t in danger?”
My lip trembles with nerves and I gnaw on it like I’m trying to chew out an answer. I’m connected to him now, which means he’s connected to me too. And the desert proved to me that he’s willing to risk his own life to save mine. I don’t take that lightly.
He watches me patiently while I twist myself up in knots, but finally, I let out a long exhale and meet his eye again. “You want there to be trust?”
His head dips. “Yes.”
I swallow hard. Feel my heart blare in my ears. But after everything that’s happened and molded between us, I’m ready.
So I give him the ultimate truth.
“I ran because I have family back in Hamelyn.”
His brows instantly jump. “Family?”
I nod. “My aunt and . . . my mother.”
He blinks in astonishment. “Your mother? She survived your birth?”
“Yes.”
“I’m sorry, that was a blunt question,” he rushes to add with a frown pulling his thick brows.
“It’s just that many fae women carrying fiend children died during childbirth.
It’s lucky that fiend mothers these days don’t seem to have that same mortality rate birthing their own children, but the fact that your mother was able to deliver you safely is incredible in itself.
As is the fact that she kept you instead of leaving you at an abandonment house. It’s rather unheard-of.”
“It is,” I agree. “Aunt Lenna took us in when my mother was pregnant, and helped us.”
“Wow.” He drags a hand down his face before tossing it on his knee. “That’s—”
I watch him get to his feet and start to pace around the sitting room.
“You never considered I could have family,” I guess.
He stops in front of the fireplace and shakes his head. “No wonder you hated my guts and tried to escape. I thought—I didn’t really think,” he admits, before looking at me. “I’m sorry.”
“That’s why I ran,” I tell him, my throat going tight with emotion as I get to my feet, too nervous to sit. “They don’t even know I was captured and whipped. I wasn’t with them when the Rat Plague hit. I need to make sure they’re okay.”
Tears unload from my eyes, and something even heavier. This burden of worry that’s been weighing on my shoulders tumbles off as I finally reveal the thing that has troubled me the most.
“Don’t cry,” he says, and then he’s right in front of me, hands clenched and face scowling. “I don’t like to see you cry.”
“I need to go home,” I say beseechingly. “To check on them.”
He looks conflicted. “The latch will be strained at that distance if you try to go alone, and considering how I left Hamelyn, your Govern won’t open his gates with welcome for me anytime soon.”
My lip wobbles, despair pressing in on me.
His scowl deepens when another tear drips down my cheek. Turning, he abruptly strides from the sitting room. I dash away my tears with a frown, and a few seconds later, he comes back with a piece of paper and hands it to me. I look down at the blank sheet.
“Write to them.”
I go still, my fingers tightening around the paper. “What?”
“Write them a letter and I’ll have my messenger send it. Today.”
My heart pounds hard against my ribs, hope sprouting. “You will?”
“Yes.”
Crushing gratitude swells up like the sea, and I leap forward and bury myself against him. “Thank you,” I whisper against his hard chest.
He’s frozen for a second before his arms come up to wrap around me. He holds me gently, as if I’m fragile enough to break, his touch careful over my wounds. It makes me feel treasured in a way I’ve never experienced before.
My breath shakes as my emotions get the best of me. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” he says roughly. “Just . . . don’t cry. It makes me want to tear down the walls.”
I snort and pull away, and I know I probably look a mottled mess, but Piper watches me with an expression that makes my insides turn to mush.
“Write your letter,” he says quietly. “I have to go take care of some things, but when you’re done, give it to the guard. He’ll send it down to my messenger.”
I nod as he backs away.
“And remember. Dinner. Tonight.”
“I won’t forget.”
He gives me a searing look before heading for the door.
The second he’s gone, I stagger slightly, reaching to grab the back of the sofa so I don’t topple right over. Hope and relief float in my chest, making me lightheaded.
Finally, I have a way to check on my mother and aunt. Finally, I can find out if they’re okay.
With a smile blooming across my face, I rush into his bedroom and sit behind his desk. I smooth out the piece of paper he gave me and find ink and a quill buried at the bottom of his drawer.
I write quickly, hand practically flying over the sheet. My handwriting is rushed, my movements too eager to be neat. When I’m done, I wait for the ink to dry and press a kiss to it before folding it up.
I hope the messenger can get this to them quickly.
I hope I get a reply.
I hope they’re okay.
Surrounding all of that, my heart swells with the burgeoning confessions between Piper and me.
And I hope.