Chapter 31 #3
"It should," Fenric nodded, but as we stepped through the archway together, the thread remained, now visible only to us as a faint red glow against our skin.
We found ourselves in an elevator, rising back toward the main levels of the Bureau.
The confined space made the lingering awkwardness between us more pronounced.
I could still see those visions clearly in my mind, especially the one of us working together, his Bureau coat draped over my chair, his lips pressed against my future self's hair in a gesture of casual intimacy.
"Fenric," I broke the silence as the elevator hummed upward. "About what we saw..."
"It was merely one potential outcome among many," he cut me off, his bureaucratic mask firmly back in place. "The Archive shows possibilities, not certainties."
"You already said that. But you didn't answer my question. Is it so terrible? The possibility of us?"
The elevator slowed, approaching our destination. Fenric stared straight ahead, his profile rigid.
"It's complicated," his voice so low I almost missed it.
"Everything about this situation is complicated," I glared. "That's not an answer."
Something flickered in his eyes, frustration, confusion, and beneath it all, a longing that mirrored what I'd seen in his future self's gaze. For a moment, I thought he might actually open up, might acknowledge whatever was growing between us.
Instead, his expression shuttered. "This isn't the place for personal discussions."
"Then when is? Because every time we get close to something real, you retreat behind your protocols and regulations." I was pushing too hard, I knew, but the visions had shaken me. "I'm tired of pretending there's nothing here."
"Winter," his voice held a warning, but also a plea. "Please."
I released his arm, stepping back. "Fine. Go file your reports. Pretend you didn't see what I saw in that Archive. Pretend you don't feel whatever this is between us."
I turned to leave, frustration and hurt making my movements sharp. I'd made it halfway across the lobby when his voice stopped me.
"Winter."
I looked back to find him standing exactly where I'd left him, the red thread between us pulled taut but unbroken.
"I do feel it." The words clearly costing him. "But feeling something doesn't make it wise. Or safe."
I stared at him, his perfect posture, his immaculate suit, his face that struggled to maintain its practiced neutrality. All the careful barriers he'd built over centuries of existence, threatening to crumble when faced with something as simple and as complicated as desire.
The red thread between us pulsed brighter as I walked back to him, drawn by something beyond my understanding. Bureau employees moved around us, none of them aware of the connection that bound us together, visible only to our eyes.
When I reached him, I leaned in close, the scent of his cologne filling my senses, clean, precise, with undertones of something ancient and magical. My lips nearly brushed his ear as I whispered:
"You don't have to be scared of wanting something impossible."
I felt rather than saw the shudder that ran through him, the carefully constructed walls finally giving way. His silver-blue eyes darkened as he turned to me, his face transformed by a hunger I'd never seen there before.
In one fluid movement, so unlike his usual measured gestures, Fenric took my face in his hands and pressed his lips to mine.
The kiss was electric, shocking in its intensity.
There was nothing hesitant or tentative about it.
His mouth moved against mine with desperate certainty, as if he'd been imagining this moment for far longer than he would ever admit.
I gasped against his lips, and he used the opportunity to deepen the kiss, his tongue sliding against mine.
Before I could fully process what was happening, he had backed me against the nearest wall, one hand tangled in my hair, the other at my waist. With the solid surface behind me and his body pressed against mine, there was nowhere to retreat, nowhere to hide from the raw emotion pouring from him.
I'd never imagined Fenric could kiss like this, hard, demanding, almost rough in his need. His teeth caught my lower lip, drawing a moan from me that should have embarrassed me in the public setting but only seemed to drive him further.
The blue markings on my skin flared in response to my racing pulse, and the red thread between us glowed so brightly it cast shadows across his face.
I could feel him everywhere, his chest against mine, his fingers gripping my hip, his leg pressed between my thighs in a way that made heat pool in my core.
When he finally pulled back, we were both breathing hard, my hands somehow having found their way to his chest, his tie disheveled for perhaps the first time since I'd known him. His eyes were wild, pupils dilated, the usual silver-blue barely visible around the edges.
"Everyone else has gotten to taste you," he said, his voice rough, almost unrecognizable.
Before I could respond, a loud alarm began blaring throughout the building. Red lights flashed, and Bureau agents began rushing toward the security stations.
"What's happening?" I looked to Fenric over the noise.
He was already consulting his tablet, his expression shifting from personal conflict to professional concern in an instant. "Level One emergency. There's been a Veil breach at the eastern containment facility."
The urgency in his voice made my heart race. "Is that bad?"
"Very," he was already moving, all personal matters forgotten in the face of duty. "We need to go. Now."
I nodded, falling into step beside him as we headed for the Bureau's transport area. Whatever was happening between us would have to wait. Again.
But as we rushed toward whatever new crisis awaited, I was acutely aware of the red thread still connecting us, pulsing with a rhythm that matched the beating of our hearts. Whatever Fenric might say, whatever walls he might try to maintain, this connection between us was real.
And from what we'd seen in the Archive, it might be more important than either of us realized.