55. Lora
Lora
Tension coiled between us as we weaved through the streets toward the Forbidden Archives. My pulse thrummed with anticipation for the heist. It quickened even more at the memory of the prince pinning me against that wall, his breath hot against my ear.
I should have pushed him away sooner, but I’d been enthralled by the intensity in those amber eyes. The solid wall of muscle against my palms. The beat of his heart, racing just as fast as mine. The way he’d leaned in, voice dropping to that rough murmur as he listed off my “moon expressions”.
A wave of heat surged through me.
Silt and rot, what was wrong with me? Some kind of fever burned through my veins, leaving my legs trembling with weakness.
But the tide-sodden sun prince was only toying with me, like a shadow prowler with its prey. He could insist all he wanted that he’d convinced that pirate to abandon their hunt for Erion, but I didn’t trust him for a heartbeat.
As we pressed deeper into the eastern quarter, the buildings sagged. Walls were streaked with grime and soot, windows darkened or broken.
Wedged between the drooping structures, a gray building stood out, taller and prouder than the rest, like a weathered General among tired soldiers.
Guards had dragged me from that building the last time I was here. With the adrenaline burning through me, I hadn’t registered the menacing door, nor the narrow windows flanking it, their openings choked with bars.
Both the door and the bars were made of the same obsidian material as the back door Kestrel had led us through. Stone, of course—no meltable metal or flammable wood in sight.
Zaivareth strode ahead, but my fingers closed around his arm, stopping him. “You’re just going to walk right in?”
“Why not?” His eyes met mine, calm and steady. “The scholars will have left by now. We only need to avoid the guards.”
Unease prickled through me. “And how exactly do you plan on avoiding them?”
The corner of his lips twitched into that infuriating smirk. “We’ll figure it out.”
He pulled me along, but to my surprise, he led me past the main door and around the corner, into an alleyway.
“Where are you going?” I hissed. “You missed the entrance.”
“That’s the scholar’s entrance.” He stopped in front of another obsidian door huddled beneath an imposing stone arch. “This is the Royal Entrance.”
I glared at him. “You have a special entrance?”
Smirking, he freed a knife from his belt and sliced it across his palm.
Crimson drops welled up, and he smeared the blood against the black surface.
The door rumbled and clicked, just like the Vault of Secrets in the Moon Queen’s catacombs.
But she’d only pricked her finger. Why would he need to carve such a deep gash just to offer a few drops?
Zaivareth pushed the door open and stepped inside. I followed him into a small hall with doorways opening to corridors in each direction.
Darkness closed in as he shut the door behind us. A flame ignited a heartbeat later, floating above his palm, reflecting the teasing glint in his mischievous eyes.
He brushed past me into one of the corridors. “Stay close. This place is a labyrinth.”
I hurried to keep up. “But you know where we’re going, right?”
“Of course.” His smug voice oozed confidence.
He led me into one of the corridors, its walls pressing close on either side. Every few paces, a deep window alcove cut into the left side, while doors lined the right.
The soft pad of his boots on stone ceased abruptly. His head tilted, listening. The flame winked out, and darkness swallowed us.
Just as I opened my mouth to ask what he’d heard, he shoved me into one of the window alcoves. Rough stone bit into my back as he pressed me against the side wall.
I clutched his arms. “What are you—”
His warm palm clamped over my mouth. His other hand lifted between us, pressing one finger to his lips. Muscle and heat caged me in, his eyes locked on mine.
The scent of him washed over me—fire and leather, and something darker beneath. Something wild and unmistakably his. It filled my senses, warning and inviting all at once. A flush rushed up my neck and bloomed across my face.
In the pale moonlight filtering through the window bars, I could just make out his lips curling into an infuriating smirk.
What in the turning tides was this? Was he playing with me?
My palms braced against his biceps, about to shove him back, when footsteps echoed through the corridor, along with murmured voices.
By the deep, how had he heard them from so far away? Or had he sensed them with his magic somehow?
His hand eased from my mouth, fingers tracing down my throat as he shifted closer, eliminating the last sliver of space between us.
My lips hovered dangerously close to the exposed skin of his neck, just above his collarbone. His breath ghosted against my forehead, warm and unsteady. I swallowed, my pulse thundering through my veins.
Currents take me, I had to get a grip. He was only positioning himself so his body wouldn’t be silhouetted against the window.
Twirling my fingers, I coaxed shadows from nearby corners, weaving them around us in a gentle veil. Not too thick—just enough to blend us with the alcove’s darkness.
His hand came to rest around my neck, something almost possessive in the way his thumb brushed just beneath my chin. My skin tingled beneath his touch, my entire body blazing with a pulsing need I refused to acknowledge. I poured my focus into keeping each breath silent and even.
The guards’ voices grew louder, boots scuffing closer. Torchlight flickered across the stone walls, washing the other side of the alcove in wavering orange.
“…sounds ridiculous to me,” one scoffed. “I mean, really, how powerful can he be?”
“I wouldn’t mind that reward, though,” the other replied. “Two hundred crystals! I’d quit as a guard and live the life I always dreamed of.”
The first snorted. “And what life is that? Sitting on your arse all day, downing ale?”
“Pfft, please. I’d drink nothing but fine wine. And I wouldn’t be sitting. I’d be lying in bed, surrounded by beautiful women.”
Both chuckled as they continued past without glancing in our direction. Their footsteps faded, voices dissolving into distant echoes.
“This is your idea of how to handle the guards?” I hissed against Zaivareth’s neck. “Hide in a window-lit alcove?”
He didn’t pull back. Instead, his lips grazed my ear. “It worked, didn’t it?”
Tingles raced across my skin, and my reply came far too breathy. “Only because I cloaked us.”
I released the shadows, letting them slip back into their corners. But he still didn’t step away.
“Mm.” The sound rumbled deep in his chest. “And you did so well.”
His carnal tone ignited my core.
The rough pad of his thumb traced a slow path along my jaw. I should’ve pushed him away, but my body refused to move.
His other hand slid down my waist, fingers brushing my hip. Feverish heat surged through me, pooling low in my belly. My chest rose and fell with shallow breaths.
He eased back, just enough to meet my gaze. His amber eyes burned into me, holding me captive. “What, no clever retort?” His voice was a low rasp. “Those pretty lips must be bursting with threats.”
“I thought these pretty lips were only good for lying.” The words tumbled out barely above a whisper, stripped of all the bite I’d intended.
A husky laugh rolled through his chest, vibrating against my ribs. “I can imagine a few more things they’d be good for.”
My breath dissolved entirely. I should’ve rolled my eyes at his smugness or punched him for his arrogance. Instead, my gaze snagged on his mouth.
The air around us turned molten.
His head dipped closer, his hot breath ghosting against my lips. Raging desire crackled through me like lightning. Every nerve screamed to wrap my hands around his neck and crash my mouth against his.
Silt and rot, what was wrong with me? I’d never craved anything like this. Never wanted anyone as much as I wanted him.
No, not him. Just his touch. This was nothing more than my body lusting for closeness.
Blinking rapidly, I forced myself out of the haze and shoved against his biceps, pushing him back a stride.
“We should… we need to… keep going.” The words came out breathless, far less commanding than I’d intended.
His lips curved into that salt-cursed smirk. His gaze traced down my body, eyes glinting with satisfaction in the moonlight, as if he…
Ebbs and darkness, was he sensing my blush with his heat magic?
The realization struck me like a blast of icy water. Every time I’d blushed around him, that insufferable smirk had appeared. He’d been reading me like an open book this entire time.
Twirling my fingers, I summoned my cold magic, plunging my body temperature down several degrees.
Drown it all, I should have done that from the start.
Curiosity sparked in his eyes. The corners of his mouth twitched, but not with the usual amusement. Something softer. Almost like approval. Like he was impressed.
I broke free from his overbearing presence and stumbled back into the dark corridor. A flame ignited behind me, and he brushed past, taking the lead.
Currents take my traitorous body. Why couldn’t I feel this way for Erion? He was sweet, caring, and earnest in a way that made my chest ache. But he never lit that fire under my skin. Never made my pulse hammer against my ribs like something desperate trying to break free.
But I was his. And he was mine to protect. My purpose. My future. I wouldn’t allow this silt-tainted prince to come between us.
After winding through a few more corridors, we stopped before a vaulted obsidian door.
Zaivareth yanked out his knife and dragged the blade across his palm, carving another gash below the one that must’ve just stopped bleeding. Crimson welled up, and he pressed it against the black surface. As the door clicked, he shoved it open.
“So aggressive,” I scoffed. “You’re like an explosion waiting to happen.”
He turned to me, one eyebrow raised. “What’s that supposed to mean?”