CHAPTER FORTY #2
A tremble worked through his muscles. He didn’t want to speak, didn’t want to give voice to the memories. Yet, the determination in Ilain’s gaze told him she wouldn’t take no for an answer.
“Which time?” he said quietly.
Ilain’s face fell. “Oh, Ethenn,” she whispered.
He began to shake his head, backing away, but she reached out, grabbing the edge of his open collar. Her expression softened, and she stepped up before him, the nearness of her muddling his thoughts. “Tell me,” she pleaded.
Rejecting the pain the memories of the past brought, Ethenn spoke with rote blandness, like he was giving directions rather than recounting the worst days of his life.
“My father died when I was eleven in a hunting accident. Five months later, my mother grew ill. She passed while I was away on a hunting trip.”
Ilain stared up at him. “You lost both your parents before you were twelve?”
“I turned twelve two months after my father’s death, actually.”
Compassion drew Ilain’s features downward as she frowned.
“Oh, Ethenn,” she whispered again. Then she cupped his face.
Her hands were cold on his cheeks, soothing the heat that burned under the surface.
Gently, she pressed her lips to his. He leaned into the caress, the familiar magic spiking within him.
Coolness tingled across his skin, causing the flames of his anger to recede as a swell of desire rose in its wake.
Ready to relinquish himself to the soothing torrent of her touch, Ethenn fought his disappointment when she pulled back before the kiss ever really began.
His heart thrummed in his ears, whispering lies that his qualms didn’t matter; he could lose his whole heart and soul to her.
Why should he hold himself back when she was his wife?
After their kiss in the tavern, Ethenn hadn’t had the gumption to take another. He knew it would exert this same insatiable effect on him. One caress wasn’t enough. He craved her, his skin tingling under her touch. The heat rose along his scalp, urging him to kiss her again.
The reaction startled him, and yet he longed to give in to it.
Ilain brushed a few locks of hair from Ethenn’s forehead, her verdant gaze searching his face. “What were they like?” she asked.
He fought the urge to clench his jaw against the memory of his parents. “Good,” he said without emotion. Ilain was about to press for more, but he clutched onto her arms, stopping her. “And I don’t want to talk about it.”
He could read the disappointment on her face. “Why don’t you trust me?” she asked.
“For the same reason you don’t trust me,” he replied.
She didn’t bother denying it. A gentleness came into her gaze. “Could I persuade you to?” she asked, running her hands over his chest.
Ethenn’s shoulders stiffened as she drew closer. “Not that way,” he said.
A shadow crossed her expression for a moment. Then she chuckled. “I’m not trying to seduce you,” she promised. “I’m merely comforting you.”
“I’m not the one who needs comforting.”
“You’re a bloody orphan,” she teased. “They always need comforting.”
Ethenn couldn’t help his amused grin. “That’s quite insensitive.”
“I’m not known for empathy.”
Without his consent, his hands found their way to her waist. “And I’m not known for my openness.”
“How’s this, then?” She tugged on his shirt, pulling him toward the bed with her. She sat on the edge, gripping his hands. “You said to tell you when I needed something. Well, this is what I need, Ethenn. I want you to distract me.”
Ethenn grimaced. “By telling you about my parents?”
She shook her head, staring up into his eyes. “By telling me about yourself,” she said, patting the mattress beside her.
Ethenn stared at the pattern on the worn brown quilt. “Ilain—”
“Ethenn,” she interrupted.
He met her gaze, seeing the mix of hope, fear, and sorrow within.
“Please.”
Taking the seat she’d offered, Ethenn sucked in a deep breath. Could he do this? She needed help; that much was clear—a distraction to keep her mind off her loss. But if he opened up about his past, that would mean reliving everything, revealing everything. And he wasn’t sure he could do that.
Ilain’s fingers brushed his on the bed between them. She looped her forefinger around his, gently prodding him to speak.
Turning to her, Ethenn made his decision. “I’ll make a deal with you, Ilain.”
“What’s that?”
“I’ll answer one question with total honesty,” he said. “Then you’ll never ask about my past again.”
Her eyes narrowed. “That’s not much of a distraction.”
“I wasn’t finished.”
She nodded for him to go on.
“One question, one honest answer,” he said, then swallowed down the last of his fear and added, “And I’ll kiss you.”
Ilain blinked. “I don’t—”
“As often as you want,” he clarified. “Whenever you want, however long you want.”
Her chin lifted in understanding. “You’ll kiss me as a distraction?”
He shrugged in response.
Ilain pursed her lips, drawing back. “That doesn’t seem . . . rational,” she said, throwing the term back at him.
“It isn’t,” he confirmed. “But this is a deal, remember? I get something in exchange.”
She smirked. “Oh, and the kissing is only for me?”
“No, that’s for both of us. The question is for you, so I get something in return.”
Ilain tapped a finger over her skirt. “Let’s hear it, then I’ll decide.”
“I’m going to continue to train with Brea.” Her expression tightened, but he went on. “I have to improve as a Warrior, Ilain. If I’m going to be your Warrior, I have to be better. And as much as it hurts you right now, that means I have to work with the one woman who can help me become that.”
She hesitated, a wry smile tugging at her lips. “So I have to be rational about your training, but I get to be irrational by distracting myself with your kisses?” she surmised.
“Something like that.”
A weak laugh slipped out of her. She stared across the room, a haunted expression on her face.
Her vibrant curls drifted over her tense shoulders.
It was plain to see that the request hurt her.
She was so intelligent and cunning that sometimes Ethenn forgot how reactive and emotional she also was.
Like the resource she connected with, Ilain was full of passion, violence, and insatiable need.
And it drove her to these dramatic swings in reason, no matter how wise she might truly be.
Slowly, Ilain turned back to him. “Fine,” she said softly.
“You’ll accept the deal?” Ethenn wasn’t sure whether he felt more excited or disappointed.
“Yes, I accept it.” Her sharp eyebrows lifted slyly. “Do I get to ask my question now?”
He nodded.
Her fingers latched onto his forearm, tracing his sleeve. “How did you get your scars?”
Ethenn gritted his teeth but said, “In my uncle’s smithy.” Ilain’s glare flashed, immediately incensed by his repeated answer, but he interrupted her sharp reply. “He gave them to me.”
Her eyes widened. “Your uncle . . . burned you?”
“If I moved too slowly, messed something up, or talked back, he’d hit me with the poker straight from the forge,” he said. “You have to work with your sleeves rolled back; otherwise, they can get caught in your work, plus it’s blistering hot, so . . .”
When he didn’t continue the thought, she concluded it for him. “He branded you by marking each of your mistakes.”
An embittered grin came to his lips. “Good thing hunting took me away for weeks at a time, else I’d have more.”
Ilain’s fingers traced his sleeve. “How many—?”
“I haven’t bothered to count.”
The look on her face was so brokenhearted, so purely sorrowful, that a soft laugh escaped him. “I’m free of him, Ilain,” he reminded her. “I left behind Trollenston and my uncle for good.”
With a heavy sigh, Ilain scooted closer. “I want to ask more,” she whispered. Her green eyes were lined with tears. “But I won’t.”
“Thank you,” he said and brushed his fingers over her jaw. “Now, about that kiss. . . .”
Dry humor spread across her face, and she pulled back. She caught his hand, entwining their fingers. “Actually,” she whispered with obvious reluctance, “I think your damned sense of ‘reason’ has caught up to me.”
Ethenn frowned.
She squeezed his hand. “We shouldn’t.”
“Because it isn’t what you want?” he asked, lingering close to her, their breath mingling. “Or because it’s irrational?”
“Because,” she said, swallowing back her disappointment, “magic makes you feel out of control. And I don’t want to make this harder on you than it already is.”
Ethenn lifted his chin in understanding. She was letting him back out for his own sake. He’d opened up to her, and she would let him train with Brea. There was no need for any physical distraction that might entangle his heart or stir up his desire.
“Hm,” Ethenn hummed, considering the letdown he felt in his chest.
“Hm?” Ilain hummed back. She was so close, their faces within inches, that he could practically feel the energy of her magic tugging on his in the air around them.
With a singular nod, Ethenn made his decision. He turned to her again, took her face in his hands, and said, “I don’t care about that.”
Her eyes darted between his. “You don’t?”
“No,” he replied. Then he kissed her, distracting both of them for as long as she wanted.